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CHAPTER ONE
SYDNEY WARREN HEARD the doorbell, turned
off the stove, and made a dash for the front door. Her mother taught art
classes at Ohlone Community two days a week and wasn’t typically this late.
Sydney was supposed to join her today, but had been down for the count with a
nasty migraine, so her mom insisted she stay home and rest. Any progress with
the migraine had been lost in the last couple of hours when her mom hadn’t
answered the dozen or so texts and voicemails Sydney had left.
Sydney pulled open the door,
hoping that her mother’s explanation would be a lost phone and keys, but what
she found were two police officers standing on her porch, looking grim.
“Sydney Warren?” the older
gentleman asked.
Sydney forced back tears as she
nodded.
“I’m Officer Hill,” he said,
nodding to his female counterpart, “and this is Officer Montclair. I’m sorry,
ma’am, but your mother has been in a car accident.”
“Where is she?” she asked,
feeling a modicum of relief. If it was an accident, she could deal with that.
“I’ll come right now.”
“She’s at the hospital.”
“What do you mean at the
hospital?” she challenged. “Why didn’t they call me? Why did they send cops?”
“May we come in?” Officer
Montclair asked.
Sydney hesitated for a second
before stepping back and letting the officers inside.
“Let’s find somewhere for you to
sit down.”
She lifted a shaky hand to her
mouth. “I need to sit down?”
Officer Montclair nodded. “Yes,
ma’am.”
“Um, okay,” she rasped, and
headed into the front room, sitting in her mother’s favorite chair. “How badly
is she hurt?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but your
mother’s injuries were too extensive, and she didn’t make it.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
Sydney swallowed. “I thought you said she was at the hospital.”
“She is. I’m sorry; we can’t give
any more information.” Office Montclair gave her a gentle smile. “The doctor
will speak with you when you get there.”
Sydney nodded woodenly, her mind
numbing as shock set in. “I’ll get my keys.”
“Do you have anyone who can drive
you?”
She shook her head.
“We’ll take you, ma’am.”
“How will I get back?”
“One of us will be happy to bring
you back.”
She swallowed hard. “I...I need
to get my purse.”
The officer nodded and Sydney
walked in a haze to the kitchen, grabbing her purse and keys before sliding on
her shoes and heading back to the front door. She followed the cops to their
car. She could have been walking through water to an octopus chariot, as
surreal as the situation felt.
Sydney was grateful the officers
didn’t speak to her on the ride to the hospital. By the time they arrived, she
had half-convinced herself that they’d made a huge mistake and she’d prove it
to herself, and them, before telling her mom all about her eventful day.
She checked her phone (again) and
there was still no return call from her mom. She still hoped she’d walk into
the room and find someone else there.
One of the officers opened her
door and she slid out, following him inside.
They led her down a hallway
teaming with medical staff and into a room that was eerily quiet. A doctor met
her right inside the door. He cleared his throat, but Sydney caught sight of
the figure in the bed and rushed past him before he could speak.
“Mama,” she whispered, her heart
rate spiking. Her mother lay bloodied and bruised, a tube in her mouth, her
chest rising and falling as a hissing sound echoed in the stark room. Sydney
glanced over her shoulder. “She’s breathing.”
The doctor sighed. “We’re keeping
her heart beating because your mother is an organ donor, but there is no brain
activity. I’m sorry.”
Sydney stroked her mother’s cheek
as a tower of hopes crafted by denial began to crumble. “What happened?”
“Head-on collision,” one of the
police officers answered.
Outside of the trauma to her
body, she looked so peaceful. How could she be gone? Sydney’s world shattered
silently as she sat beside her mother’s body, watching her chest rise and fall
as the machines kept her “alive.”
“Are you her only relative?” the
doctor asked. “Is there anyone else? Your father perhaps?”
With a mighty effort, Sydney
turned her head to answer him. “My father died a while ago. It’s just us. My
uncle, my mother’s brother, lives in England, but I’m the one who has power of
attorney.”
The doctor pulled a chair up to
her and touched her shoulder. “I just need a signature on these forms to
release her organs, but why don’t you sit a while with her? We have a little
time still.”
Sydney nodded and sank into a
seat. “I need to call my uncle,” she rasped.
“No problem,” he said. “I’ll give
you some privacy.”
“Thanks,” Sydney whispered, and
pulled out her phone with a trembling hand.
* * *
Present day...
Sydney walked off the plane and
into the loving arms of her aunt Clara. “Welcome, love!”
Sydney gave her a tired smile.
“Thanks, Auntie.”
With nothing left for her in
California, Sydney had pulled up stakes and moved to London. After all, the
death of her mother left her an orphan. A twenty-four-year-old orphan, but an
orphan, nonetheless.
Aunt Clara hugged her. “You’re
probably knackered, eh? We’ll head straight home and you can sleep. Your uncle
will be home around six and we can talk.”
Sydney nodded. “Is Lucy there?”
“She will be soon. She had a couple
of classes today, but should be home around four.” Her aunt smiled. “Come on,
Burt’s got the car idling at the curb. Dennis is waiting at luggage claim.”
Sydney nodded and walked with her
aunt toward baggage claim. She didn’t know Burt or Dennis, but deduced they
were part of her aunt and uncle’s staff. Uncle Carville—Uncle Cary—was
exceedingly wealthy. Over the years he’d found it necessary to put into place
an extensive myriad of trusted house staff and security personnel who had been
with him for years. This protection now extended to Sydney, since she would be
living with them for a while.
Arriving at baggage claim, Sydney
discovered Dennis waiting to pull her bags from the carousel. She smiled and
introduced herself and then pointed out the three that came around quickly. As
they waited for the final piece, she thought about how she could easily get
used to this kind of pseudo-Kardashian-esque lifestyle.
“There it is,” Sydney said, and
pointed to the final and largest, green and blue tartan suitcase coming towards
them.
“I’ve got it, miss,” Dennis said,
and pulled it off the carousel.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a young
man jogged to them at Dennis’s wave of a hand and grabbed two of the bags,
while Dennis took the other two and then led Sydney and Aunt Clara to the car.
A rather fit, white-haired man gave a slight bow and opened the back door as
they approached. “Burt, this is Sydney.” Aunt Clara slid into the car.
He smiled. “Lovely to meet you,
miss.”
“You too. Thanks.” She followed
her aunt and Burt closed the door.
“You should feel free to just
rest and get acquainted with the staff over the next week or so, love,” Aunt
Clara said. “You’re not obligated to do anything for a while. Give yourself
some time to grieve properly and heal.”
Sydney nodded. “Thanks, Auntie.”
They sat in peaceful silence as
Burt drove them from Heathrow to St. Peters Place in London. Her aunt and uncle
lived in a spacious four-story townhouse they’d gutted and renovated twice in
the last thirty years. Lucy and her brother also lived there, although Anson
would be moving out soon, as his job was taking him to France.
Burt pulled the car up to the
front of the house, and Aunt Clara and Sydney climbed out. Tears sprang to
Sydney’s eyes as she gazed at the house and felt the love and comfort of family
it had always held for her.
“We’ve put you in the room next
to Lucy,” Aunt Clara said. “She wanted you close, but if you’d like to sleep
somewhere else, you let me know.”
Sydney smiled. “That’s my
favorite room—I love being next to her.”
Her aunt chuckled. “Almost
verbatim what she said.”
Burt and Dennis started up the
stairs with Sydney’s luggage and Aunt Clara squeezed her hand. “Are you hungry,
love, or would you like to sleep?”
“I slept a bit on the plane, so I
think I’ll go with hungry.”
“Come on, then, I’m sure Leticia
has prepared something delicious you can snack on.”
Sydney followed Aunt Clara back
to the kitchen and enjoyed a spread of cheese and cold cuts before heading to
her room and falling into bed. For the first time in a long time, she fell
asleep quickly, but as usual, couldn’t stay asleep all night. She only managed
two hours and spent the rest of the time attempting to read.
At what her family would consider
a “respectable hour,” Sydney showered in what was deemed the “small bathroom.”
It was just off her bedroom and probably bigger than a few studio apartments in
San Francisco. She’d giggled when her aunt had apologized the first time she’d
stayed. The room was all marble—a claw-foot tub, shower that fit two, plus a
toilet and bidet. Double sinks sat along a wall with two mirrored
medicine cabinets above them. A large skylight in the ceiling flooded the room
with natural light and could be opened via remote.
She headed down to the kitchen
and found Lucy sitting at the dinette table, a gossip magazine open in front of
her. Because of jet lag and the fact that Lucy had gotten home later than
expected, Sydney hadn’t seen her yesterday, so it was a long overdue reunion.
Lucy let out an excited squeal
and rushed for Sydney, pulling her into a hug. “You’re here, you’re finally
here.”
“I’m here, cuzzie.” Sydney
giggled and hugged her back. She pulled away and shook her head. “Do you ever
not look perfect?”
Lucy had dark, glossy,
shoulder-length hair that swung perfectly in an asymmetrical style that Sydney
couldn’t have achieved without a constant hairstylist. Sydney’s, on the other
hand, was long and straight, and probably would be forever. She was way too
chicken to cut it more than an inch at a time.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Hello,
pot, have you met kettle?” She tugged Sydney to the table. “Come and have some
brekkie.”
“What would you like, Sydney?”
Leticia asked with a smile.
“I’m happy to make something.”
“You know the rules, love,” the
cook said good-naturedly.
“Oh, fine.” Sydney gave her a
mock frown, secretly loving being banned from the kitchen for a few days. “I’d
love an egg on toast, please. I’ll get my own coffee if you have it.”
Leticia chuckled. “It’s in the
pot.”
Sydney poured a cup and then sat
next to Lucy.
Lucy set her magazine aside and
folded her hands on the table. “What do you want to do today?”
“Just hang out if you don’t
mind.” Sydney sipped her coffee. “I need to sit down with your dad at some
point and sort out the inheritance and money from the sale of the house, but I
kind of want to pretend that I’m on vacation for a little while.” She forced a
smile to her face, hoping it met her eyes, and lowered her coffee cup to hide
the shaking in her hand.
Lucy squeezed her arm and nodded.
“Okay, so we’ll hang out today and then tomorrow we’ll be obnoxious tourists.”
“That sounds perfect,” Sydney
said, hoping it sounded genuine.
“Do you need to stop at the
bank?”
“No, I have my credit card and a
hundred pounds in cash.”
“Good,” Lucy said, staring at her
phone. “Stasia and Nadia said they’d love to join us.”
“Oh, that would be fun!” Again
with the overly happy tone.
“We don’t have to.”
“No, I want to. Really,” Sydney
assured her.
Lucy grinned and pulled out her
phone. “I’ll let them know.”
Three hours later, Sydney, Lucy,
Stasia, and Nadia walked into a cafe near the London Eye. The girls had tried
to get Sydney to go on the Ferris wheel, but it was never going to happen. They
argued through most of the line, ordering in between good-natured bickering.
“But it has the most amazing
views,” Nadia continued as they took their seats.
“And if you’d like to go up in
that death trap, you can feel free to take a few photos for me,” Sydney said.
“It’s perfectly safe, cuz,” Lucy
piled on.
Sydney nodded. “It is if you
watch from the ground.”
Stasia giggled. “She wouldn’t
even go on the roller coasters with me when I was in the States. I was forced
to go with one of her friends.”
“Oh, yeah, you had such a
hard time screaming and hanging on to the arm of one Topher Murray, rock star
wannabe and general poor man’s bad boy.”
“He was nice.”
“I know he was, which is why he
isn’t a real bad boy. He took you on all the scary rides, promising to protect
you, and spent the whole time staring at your butt whenever you walked in front
of him.”
Stasia gasped. “He stared at my
bum?”
“Yes, yes, he did.”
She groaned. “Why didn’t you tell
me? I would have totally given him tongue if I’d known.”
Lucy choked on her tea.
“Anastasia!”
“What? I thought he wasn’t
interested, so I kissed him all chastely and crap.”
Sydney giggled. “He was trying to
be a gentleman because I told him if he wasn’t, I would cut a certain appendage
off.”
“Well, why’d you go and do that?”
Stasia demanded. “We could’ve had way more fun than we did.”
“I don’t think I want to know
what ‘more fun’ would have entailed.” Sydney took a bite of her sausage roll
and shook her head.
“No, you really don’t,” Lucy
agreed.
Stasia sighed. “He was so hot.
Are you guys still friends?”
Sydney shrugged. “Facebook
friends mostly. He moved to Australia for a girl, and I guess they broke up,
but he stayed.”
Stasia raised an eyebrow. “Hmm,
maybe I should reach out. I love Oz, and I’m thinking Daddy owes me a little
trip for my grades this past semester.”
“Aren’t you nearly twenty-four?”
Sydney said.
“Yes, so?”
“Your dad still buys you trips
for doing well on college courses?”
Stasia giggled. “Daddy buys me
anything I ask for.”
Sydney blinked back tears.
“Oh crap, sorry, love,” Stasia
rushed to say. “I’m sorry about your parents. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s okay.”
Lucy reached over and took
Sydney’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“So, Topher,” Sydney pressed. “Do
you want me to connect you two?”
“Yes, that would be amazing.”
Sydney nodded, the subject
effectively changed. All in all, it was a good day spent with old friends, and
Sydney was able to enjoy the moment. Win for her... for now.
* * *
A week later, Lucy arrived home
from school and pulled Sydney into her bedroom and closed the door.
“Whoa, lady, you okay?” Sydney
whispered.
Lucy’s head bobbed up and down as
she let out a quiet squeal. “I met a boy.”
“Seriously?” Sydney giggled.
“Deets, please!”
“His name’s Zach and he’s
American.” She let out a girly sigh. “His accent is divine.”
“Yeah, yeah, go on.”
“Well, he’s just transferred from
his school in California, and we’ve been talking for a few days. We hit it off
right away and today he asked me if I’d like to go out with him. Like a date,
date, and I said yes. Oh my god, Sid, he’s so cute. Dark hair, these yummy
chocolate-brown eyes, and he’s tall and a total beefcake.”
Sydney shook her head. “Sounds
just like your type.”
“It’s like I imagined him and he
appeared before me.”
“Maybe’s he’s a robot,” Sydney
retorted.
“With a really big schlo—”
“Lucy!”
“Not all of us aspire to be
virginal, love. No judgment, just fact. It’s been a dry year for me and I need
a little relief.”
Sydney felt heat creep up her
cheeks. “I just haven’t met the one yet. That’s all.”
“Like I said. No judgment,” Lucy
stressed. “Anyway, once Dad runs his little report on Zach, I’m hoping he’ll
release me from my gilded cage and let me go out with him.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“I can’t wait for you to meet
him! You’re going to love him.”
Sydney smiled. “I don’t doubt
it.”
“It needs to be soon, okay?”
“Sure. How about this weekend?”
“That would be great. I’ll talk
to him about it and we’ll make a plan.”
“Can’t wait.”
Lucy slid off her bed. “Okay, I
have a paper to finish. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Sydney grinned and watched her
leave. She wondered if she’d ever be in a place to date casually, but she
doubted it. One thing Sydney knew about herself was that she never did anything
casually. It made her vulnerable and it got her hurt, but try as she might, she
couldn’t change that part of her. She cared about people too much. For now
though, she was happy to live vicariously through Lucy and watch the drama that
would certainly unfold.
