Summer Vows

“Mid-September.”

She did the mental calculation. Her cousin’s wife was five months pregnant, and this was her first time hearing about it. “Is Dana all right?” she asked.

Tyler expressive black eyebrows lifted a fraction. “She’s good. We decided not to say anything until all tests indicated the baby is normal.” He smiled. “I called my mom and dad earlier this morning to give them the good news.”

Leaning back in her chair, Ana stared at Tyler. Like so many men in her family, he had begun graying in his thirties. The brilliant ob-gyn was now in his late forties and was to become a father for the fourth time. He’d named his first son after his father and the second one after his paternal grandfather, while he and Dana adopted their daughter after the infant’s orphaned mother died in childbirth. Now Astra was about to become a big sister.

“I know you’re here for a conference, but do you think you’ll have time to go up to West Palm to see your folks?”

Tyler took a sip of sparkling water. “They’re driving down tonight. I’m scheduled to chair one panel and sit on one, both on the same day. I’m not flying back to Mississippi until Friday. I told Dana I was going to stay an extra day to reconnect with my sister, but when I called Arianna her housekeeper said she, Silah and their kids had just left for Paris.”

The Kadirs lived in Fort Lauderdale when their children were in school and in their fashion designer father’s native Morocco during the summer months. The Kadir children spoke English, Spanish and French. Tyler shook his head. “My sisters are gypsies,” he continued. “The only time I get to see Arianna is during Thanksgiving and the week of Christmas.”

Reaching across the table, Ana placed her hand on Tyler’s. “You’re turning into your father, complaining that he doesn’t see his children or grandchildren enough.”

“Wait until you have children, Ana, and then you’ll realize what it is to have your children spread out all over the world. My kids are still young, but I miss my sisters. Regina lives in Brazil, but she only comes to the States once or twice a year. Arianna divides her time between Florida and North Africa or Europe. At least your father has his children and grandchildren within a couple of hours of a car or plane ride.” He reversed their hands. “Enough talk about the family. What about you? How are you doing?”

A smile parted Ana’s lips. “Life is good for Serenity Records. Justin Glover—aka O’Quan Gee’s debut album is number one on the Billboard chart.”

Tyler angled his head and laughed, attractive lines fanning out around his large eyes. Anyone looking at him and Ana would’ve taken them for brother and sister. The first cousins had inherited their paternal grandmother’s olive coloring, delicate features and dimpled smile.

“I wasn’t talking about rappers and hip-hop artists, Ana. I’m talking about you. Are you seeing anyone?”

She averted her gaze. “Not right now.” Her eyes met and fused with Tyler’s. “To tell you the truth it has been a while since I’ve been involved with a man. I have male friends I can call if I don’t want to go a social function by myself, but most times I attend the award ceremonies with Jason.”

“You can’t marry your brother, Ana.”

She laughed quietly. “I know that, Tyler, but he’s the only man, other than those in my family, that I can trust.” Without warning, Ana sobered. “Can you answer one question for me?”

“What’s that?”

“Why do men cheat?”

The seconds ticked as Tyler stared at something over Ana’s shoulder. “I can’t answer that because I’ve never cheated on Dana.”

“How about your girlfriends before you married her?”

His gaze swung back to her. “I’d never cheated on them, either. Even if I’d wanted to I could never forget what Abuela went through with grandpa when she’d discovered he had fathered an illegitimate child.”

“Uncle Josh is as much a part of our family as your dad or mine,” Ana argued softly.

“I’m not saying he isn’t, Ana. It shouldn’t have taken more than thirty years for everyone to accept him as a Cole even though his last name was Kirkland.”

She exhaled an audible sigh. “Our grandfather cheated on our grandmother, and I can’t seem to find a man who doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with sleeping with more than one woman at the same time. It’s the same with celebrities. They date one woman and father a child, then move on to the next without a pang of conscience that they’ve become a serial baby daddy.”

“Therein is your problem. You have to stop dating guys in the business.”

“I would if I happened to meet one who’s not in the business. But, day in and day out it’s songwriters, musicians, recording artists and producers. I’m ready to try one of those dating sites, but with my luck I’ll end up with a psycho.”

“Don’t do that, Ana. I can always hook you up with one of my colleagues.”

She shook her head. “And have him think I’m desperate. I don’t have a problem attracting men, Tyler. It’s just that I attract the wrong ones. Would you believe I was hit on by a twenty-year-old?”

Tyler swallowed a mouthful of savory crab cake. “Who’s that?”

“Justin Glover aka O’Quan Gee aka OG.”

“What’s up with the stage names? Why doesn’t he just go by Justin Glover?”

“He’s a crossover artist. He’ll record pop and R&B under Justin and rap and hip-hop as O’Quan Gee.”

Tyler chuckled under his breath. “How does it feel to be a cougar?”

Ana rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so, Tyler. There is nothing a twenty-year-old can do for me. I have enough trouble with immature thirtysomething baby boys. And for all his musical genius Justin may prove to be a problem.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s good and he knows it. But I’ll let Jason handle the musical end of his career. I had enough issues trying to convince him to sign with Serenity instead of Slow Wyne. It ended in a bidding war where we signed him for less than what Slow Wyne would’ve offered, but our perks are more lucrative. We also included a morality clause at the insistence of our publicist: no drugs, DUIs or DWIs and he cannot become involved in any paternity suits for the term of his contract.”

“How long is his contract?”

“Two years with an option to renew for an additional two. Slow Wyne wanted to tie him up for two years with a five year option. Negotiations became a little dicey when Basil Irvine went gangsta on me, but in the end he had to back down.”

“What do you mean he went gangsta?”

Staring at the twitching muscle in her cousin’s jaw, Ana chided herself for mentioning the telephone conversation between herself and the CEO of Slow Wyne. “He said I would pay for stealing Justin away from him.”

“Pay how, Ana?”

She forced a brittle smile. “I don’t know. He didn’t go into detail.”

“Aren’t you concerned that he threatened you?” Tyler asked.

“Not really. He was just acting like a little boy who couldn’t get his way. Basil Irvine doesn’t have the best reputation when it comes to his artists. He will throw a few dollars at them—more money than they’ve ever seen to win them over. He also has a reputation for hosting elaborate parties for his artists complete with beautiful women, premium champagne and I suspect drugs, and in the end he’ll own their souls. His performers make a lot of money, but unfortunately too many of them die before they’re able to get what’s coming to them. If they’re not involved in some feud or have beef with another performer, then it’s a drug overdose.”

“I want you to be careful, because this clown sounds like he’s going to be trouble,” Tyler warned softly.

“If he wants trouble, then he’ll get it,” Ana countered. “As soon as he issued the threat I told him I was going to tape all of our conversations. I suppose it was enough for him to back off. He sent me a letter last month congratulating Serenity after Justin’s album debuted at number one.”

“What was your response?”

“I called and thanked him personally. He mentioned something about sharing drinks at the next Grammy awards, and I told him I would make certain to set aside time to meet with him.”

“So, you’ve kissed and made up?”

Ana’s mouth twisted. “We’re more like fremenies.”

“Friend or enemy, you still should watch him.”

Waving her hand in a dismissive gesture, Ana affected a bored expression. “I try not to give him a passing thought.”

Tyler glanced at his watch, touched the napkin to the corners of his mouth and then placed it beside his plate. “I hate to eat and run, but I want to go back to my hotel and unwind before I go over my notes for tomorrow’s presentation.”

Ana realized her cousin must have gotten up early to fly in from Mississippi. She’d offered to have him stay in her condo, but Tyler said it was more convenient to check into the hotel where the conference was to take place. Reaching into her handbag, she took out her wallet and placed enough money on the table to cover their meal and a generous tip.

“Thanks for sharing lunch.”

Tyler winked at her. “Thanks for inviting me and next time it’s on me.” Pushing back his chair, he stood up and came around the table to ease back Ana’s chair. “Are you coming to Hillsboro for Thanksgiving?”

She looked at him. “Are you sure Dana’s going to be up to hosting Thanksgiving so soon after giving birth?”

“We’re having it catered.”

She nodded. Although she wasn’t married and had no children Ana always got together with her cousins and their families for Thanksgiving. Their parents had complained that Thanksgiving was a family holiday, but the younger generation stood firm when they’d decided to exercise a modicum of independence. The result was a livelier and unrestrained gathering with an ever-increasing number of children running around in abandon.

Arm in arm they left the restaurant and walked out into the brilliant late-spring Florida sunshine. Ana placed a pair of sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, Tyler following suit. “Where are you parked?”

He pointed to a late-model silver sedan. “I’m right here. Where are you parked?”

“I’m around on the other side.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

“That’s all right.” Going on tiptoe, Ana pressed a kiss to Tyler’s cheek. “If I don’t see you before you go back to Mississippi I’ll definitely see you for Thanksgiving.”

Winding his arms around Ana’s waist, Tyler pulled her close. Dipping his head, he whispered in her ear. “Stay out of trouble.”

“What are you—” Her words stopped when a sharp sound pierced the humid air. Tyler’s arms fell away as he crumbled to the ground in slow-motion like fluttering confetti. All warmth fled from her body, replaced by an icy-coldness that wouldn’t permit Ana to move. It seemed like an eternity where it was only seconds before she was able to scream when she sank to the ground beside her cousin’s body. The screams kept coming until people in the parking lot raced over to see what the commotion was about.

Her eyes wide with fear and panic, Ana screamed, “Help me!” She cradled Tyler to her bosom, her white blouse stained red with the warm blood seeping from his chest wound. His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow. The wait seemed interminable, but off in the distance she heard the sound of wailing sirens.

“Let me have a look at him.”

She glanced up to find an elderly man kneeling beside her. Her brain refused to process what had just happened. How could someone shoot Tyler and she not see them? She hadn’t noticed anyone close to them in the parking lot. Ana tightened her hold on her cousin’s neck. “No.”

“Please, miss. I’m a doctor.”

“No!” She screamed again, this time when a pair of strong hands pulled her up and held her fast. Ana fought like a cat, crying and clawing, but she wasn’t able to free herself from the arms that held her like manacles.

Some of the fight went out of her, and she slumped against the wide chest of a man who towered above her by a full head. The wail of sirens came closer and closer and within minutes first responders and police officers filled the restaurant’s parking lot. She was barely coherent when she gave an officer the account of what she didn’t see.

Working quickly, the paramedics stabilized Tyler, placing him on a gurney as she stood numbly by. A crime-scene unit had arrived as Ana was helped into the rear of the ambulance. Reaching for Tyler’s hand, she closed her eyes and prayed.

* * *

Ana sat in the family room at her parents’ house, reacting like an automaton. She’d become a prisoner. Easygoing, laidback David Claridge Cole had turned into a tyrant, taking the keys to her car and condo, while declaring he had no intention of burying any of his children and if he had to shackle her to keep her from leaving, then he would. Ana knew her father was incensed because she hadn’t divulged the details of the negotiations to sign Justin Glover, and she’d argued because he was no longer involved with the day-to-day operation of the recording label she wasn’t obligated to apprise him of the proceedings.

And the media had exacerbated the situation when headlines blared about the attempted murder of a member of one of Florida’s most prominent families. An undisclosed source told a reporter at The Miami Herald about the alleged ongoing feud between Slow Wyne Records and Serenity Records, and that Dr. Tyler Cole unintentionally had become collateral damage. Ana prayed the source hadn’t come from Serenity, because all the employees had signed a confidentiality agreement as a condition to employment. And if not them, the rumors had to come from someone in the Slow Wyne camp.

Reporters had also attempted to interview Jason, but his ‘no comment’ left them searching for other leads. Basil Irvine did agree to be interviewed, stating emphatically that there was no bad blood between his L.A.-based company and Serenity. He did admit he’d wanted to sign Justin Glover, but conceded when the singing phenom said the music produced by Serenity was better-suited for his singing style and vocal range. His Cheshire cat grin and velvety smooth voice had Ana screaming at the television that he was lying; she was incensed because she wasn’t able to rebut his allegation.

It’d been three days since someone had gunned down Tyler and instead of fading, the image of her cradling him persisted. An unscheduled gathering of the family descended on West Palm Beach when the news hit that Tyler had become the victim of a possible sniper. Fortunately the bullet missed all major arteries; however, the wound was still serious enough for the attending physician to recommend he remain in the hospital for several days.

The police were able to find the spent round and a ballistics expert had identified it as military issue; surveillance feed from cameras outside the restaurant and several other buildings showed a figure in camouflage repelling down the side of an office building and speeding off on a motorcycle. The police were able to identify the make and model of the bike, but when the video was enhanced the Kawasaki was missing the license plate, leading them to believe either it was stolen or the plate was intentionally removed.

Ana had felt like a parrot, repeating the same thing over and over when interrogated by law enforcement officials. First it was the local police, then special agents from the FBI. The theory that the sniper was connected to the military was a cause for concern among family members. Particularly those who’d had military experience.

Pulling her knees to her chest, she rested her head on them and closed her eyes. Why, she thought, did her parents insist on keeping their home so cool. “I’m freezing, Mom.”

Serena Morris-Cole stared at her daughter. She was shaking and it wasn’t from the air-cooled temperature but because she was still traumatized. “I’ll adjust the air and bring you a cup of hot tea.”

Ana’s head popped up. Her registered-nurse mother had divided her time between sitting at Tyler’s bedside and providing emotional support for Ana. “Thank you, Mom, but I can get my own tea.” Serena gave Ana a look she recognized immediately: do not argue with me. “Okay,” she conceded. It was as if all the fight had gone out of her when she’d never been one to back down from any confrontation.

David and Serena had raised their children to be free spirits in the tradition of 1970s hippies and Ana had become somewhat of a wild child. She was never one to turn down her brothers’ challenges and she preferred hanging out with them rather her architecture-historian sister who was the consummate girly-girl. For Ana it was baseball instead of cheerleading, shooting pool instead of ballet lessons. She’d earned an undergraduate degree in business and finance before enrolling in law school, with a focus on business law.

She’d taken control of Serenity Records once her father retired, while her twin brother, Jason, had become the label’s musical director and producer. She’d negotiated deals with artists who had served time for felonies, yet never at any time had she ever felt threatened or intimidated until now.

Ana didn’t want to believe Basil’s denial that there wasn’t bad blood between them, despite his too-sweet letter congratulating Serenity on Justin’s successful record launch. But the more she thought about it the more she felt it was retribution for signing up an artist the head of Slow Wyne coveted as if he were the Holy Grail.

A tentative smile parted her lips when Jason walked into the room. Ana patted the cushion beside her on the love seat. “Hang out with me for a while.” Fraternal twins, and older by fifteen minutes, Jason was her masculine counterpart. He was undeniably a Cole: tall, broad-shouldered, olive complexion, black curly hair, delicate features and dimples.

Extending his hand, Jason pulled her to stand. “Come with me.”

Walking on bare feet, Ana had to practically run to keep up with his longer stride. “Where are we going?”

Jason flashed a wolfish grin. “To my place.”

He was the only one of his parents’ four children who still lived at home. He had his own apartment in the expansive house and had access to an in-home recording studio. Although he was provided ultimate privacy, Jason refused to sleep with a woman under his parents’ roof. If his dates didn’t have their own place, then he entertained them at hotels.

Jason had surprised everyone once he’d announced that he’d bought property in Oregon near the Cascades where he’d built a sprawling house he dubbed Serenity West. It was where he spent months writing and recording music, and he made it a point to spend at least half the year there.

Ana followed Jason into the living/dining area and sat with him on a sofa covered with Haitian cotton. The seating arrangement faced a wall of pocket doors that overlooked the patio and inground pool.

Shifting, he turned to face his sister. “They’re making plans to send you away.”

Ana’s eyes widened until he could see the dark centers of the golden orbs. “Send me where?”

“Diego said he has a friend who is a U.S. Marshal. It appears the man has a house down in the Keys, and that he’s taken an extended vacation leave, so Diego asked him to look after you.”

“Look after me!” Ana’s voice had gone up several octaves. “What the hell do they think I am? I’m not a three-year-old that has to be looked after.”

Reaching out, Jason caught her shoulders and pressed his forehead to his twin’s. “Calm down, Ana.”

“Calm down! Would you be calm if someone decided to send you away against your will?”

His eyes, so much like Ana’s, bore into hers. “I would if my life depended upon it.”

There was something in her brother’s voice and expression that made her pause. “What is it, Jay?” she asked, using her pet name for him.

Jason closed his eyes, a fringe of long, thick black lashes touching high cheekbones. “That bullet was meant for you.”

She went still, nothing moving as Ana held her breath. “How do you know that?” she whispered once she exhaled.

He patted his chest over his heart. “I feel it here.”

People had always asked them as twins if one felt when the other was in danger, and the answer was yes. And even before he’d gotten the phone call that Tyler was with Ana when he’d been shot, Jason had known something was wrong. He’d been in the studio editing a song when he’d suddenly felt as if someone or something had squeezed his heart, making breathing difficult. He’d called Ana’s cell phone at the same time she was calling him, and he was at the hospital minutes before Tyler was wheeled into the E.R.

Ana’s eyes filled with tears as she slumped against Jason, who was rubbing her back in a comforting gesture. She could admit unequivocally that she trusted her twin more than anyone. They shared a special bond that gave them the ability to complete one another’s sentences and know when the other felt joy or sadness.

“You’re saying I should go?”

“I’m saying you shouldn’t fight Mom and Dad on this.”

She eased back. “What about you, Jay? You’re also Serenity Records.”

He shook his head. “Not like you, Ana. You’re front and center, while I work behind the scene. You negotiate the contracts and handle all the legal entanglements. I know that bullet was meant for you.”

“I go away for a couple of weeks, then what? What if the police don’t catch the person who shot Tyler?”

“The police have made this case a priority. They’re going to find the shooter.”

“What if they don’t?” she asked again.

“Dad and Uncle Martin have contacted a P.I. firm who employ ex-military and law enforcement. They have their own methods of uncovering details the police may overlook.”

Ana ran her fingers through her short hair. “What about Serenity?”

Jason gave her a long stare. “It’s not going to implode because you’re not there. I may not be familiar with all the legalese, but I do have an MBA. I believe that qualifies me to know a little about running a business.”

Pinpoints of heat stung Ana’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean to imply it would fall apart without me, Jason.”

He ruffled her hair as he’d done when she was a little girl. “Everything is going to be all right.”

Ana sucked in a lungful of air, held it and then exhaled slowly. “It’s not going to be all right until they catch the person who shot Tyler.”

There was a light knock on the door and Jason and Ana turned to find Diego Cole-Thomas standing in the open doorway. Folding his arms over his chest, the head of ColeDiz International, Ltd. leaned against the frame. People who saw photographs of Samuel Cole usually did a double-take whenever they looked at Diego. He was his great-grandfather’s clone. Not only did he look like the man who’d amassed a fortune growing tobacco, bananas and coffee, but his approach to business was similar.

“Did you tell her?” Diego asked.

Ana pushed off the sofa and approached her cousin. “Why are you talking about me as if I wasn’t here, Diego? And yes, Jason did tell me.” She tilted her chin, staring up at Diego staring down at her. “Where exactly in the Keys am I going and who’s going to babysit me?”

Diego flashed a rare smile, transforming his stoic expression. “His name is Jacob Jones, he lives on Long Key and he’s not too pleased that he has to babysit you, but he’s willing to do it as a favor to me. As soon as you pack enough to last you a couple of weeks I’ll fly down with you. Jacob will meet us at the Marathon airport.”

Ana’s stomach did a flip-flop. “You want me to leave now?”

“Yes. That’s what your folks want.”

She wanted to ask him if what she wanted figured into the equation. Ana knew she definitely would’ve rejected anyone’s suggestion she go into hiding if Jason hadn’t voiced his fear that her life was in danger. “What time is liftoff?”

“Three.”

Ana took a quick glance at her watch. It was eleven-thirty. She felt like crying, but refused to let her brother and cousin see her break down. She knew her family wanted her safe as much as she wanted to live. At thirty-three she had her whole life ahead of her. And like her sister Alexandra she wanted to fall in love, marry and have children. She wanted what most normal women wanted, but there was someone out there who’d decided they wanted her dead.