"Thanks, Jenn. Talk to you soon."
Not two minutes later, Mom's phone rang again. She handed it to me.
"Raina," I heard Tristan say in a very serious sounding voice. "Tell me what's going on. Tom only mentioned you had a family emergency. I wish you had thought to call me."
"I didn't think I should involve you. I didn't want to assume…expect anything."
"We'll talk about how wrong you are to throw that at me later. Please fill me in."
I walked out of earshot of Mom and told him everything. About Dad and the unions, about the threats, the bricks and my father's continued defiance of men far more powerful and ruthless than he would ever be. I told him because I wanted someone to lean on. I wanted to know that someone as powerful as Tristan was on my side. He didn't disappoint me.
By ten in the morning, Tristan was having coffee with Mom and I. He'd taken a helicopter from the Hills. Kwan came with him and was sitting outside on the stoop with a newspaper. He was doing his best to appear casual.
My mother was smitten by Tristan's movie-star good looks as I knew she would be. The charm he turned on full blast for Marjorie Harding didn't hurt, either. The sharp-edged side of Tristan that I had glimpsed more than once was utterly missing from the solicitous, gentle persona he showed to my mother. He drew a lot more information out of her than I had ever been able to. I was surprised at just how serious the situation had become in the four years I had been an occasional presence in my parent's house.
"Mrs. Harding, before I arrived, I had my research team get as much background as they could on the thugs who attacked your husband. They aren't just ordinary working men looking for a fair shake. These men are dangerous and your situation is serious."
"Tristan, you're scaring Mom." I was alarmed at how pale my mother had become as she listened to hm.
"There's every reason for her to be scared. And you, too." He turned back to my mother. "I've taken the liberty of getting you and Raina a couple of rooms at a hotel for at least for the night. I'm going to need some time to properly address your situation at the right levels."
"Is that really necessary?" Mom wasn't used to anyone simply stepping in and taking control. She and Dad had a pretty democratic relationship.
"I'm sorry if it sounds like I am an alarmist, but why take the chance? The fact that I had no trouble persuading the police chief to station a guard outside Mr. Harding's room leads me to believe I'm more right than wrong about the situation."
Mom looked like she was about to cry. I took her hand. "Mom, try not to worry. Dad's going to be just fine. Maybe with Tristan's help we can stop this once and for all."
She sniffed her agreement. "I can't thank you enough, Tristan. I'll just go up and throw a few things in a bag and I'll be ready to go." She hesitated at the foot of the stairs. "Do you think we could at least stop by and see Don before we go to the hotel?"
"Of course." Tristan came over to me and gathered me in his arms. "Jesus, Raina."
"Thanks for coming, Tristan. I didn't realize the situation had gotten this bad. You know, I've been away most of the last four years."
"I know. Right now I have to go and meet some people. There's a lot more to this than a couple of roughnecks angling for a brawl. I intend to get to the bottom of it."
"Don't put yourself at risk, too." I didn't like the thought of Tristan ruffling other powerful feathers.
"There are risks getting out of bed in the morning." He ruffled my hair. "Kwan will see you settled in and he'll…be around. Try to enjoy the hotel." And with that he was out the door.
Nine
We were hidden in plain sight. The night at in Brian's loft, Tristan had offered me "any experience you ever imagined and wanted to try". Without knowing it, he had chosen something I'd longed to do for as long as I could remember--stay at The Plaza.
Mom and I were whisked through the lobby and up to an unimaginably lush suite looking out over Central Park. There were two bedrooms--one upstairs and one down, a dining room, living room, butler's pantry and three bathrooms. It was as big as my parent's house in Park Slope and a lot prettier. My mother was speechless. By now it was nearly lunch time. The events of the morning had given me a huge appetite and I suggested to Mom that we go find somewhere to eat.
"Or, would you rather eat in the room?" I looked at the ornate dining set and giggled. "I'd almost be afraid to eat at that table."
Mom got up to answer a knock at the door. The floor butler who had escorted us from the elevator to our suite had a rolling cart with several serving platters covered with silver domes.
"Mr. King thought you might be hungry. He sent this selection for you."
"He certainly thinks of everything, doesn't he?" asked my mother.
I didn't answer her. I was too busy salivating over the array of goodies the butler was putting on the dining table. There must have been twenty-five different items. Little bowls of different salads, cheeses, cold meats, olives, flatbreads and rolls were all laid out in perfect presentation. We sat down to a feast complete with some crisp and fruity white wine that seemed to go with every bite.
My mother isn't speechless often and when she is it doesn't last long. I knew I'd face the twenty questions sooner or later.
"How did you meet Tristan?" "Have you known him long?" "What does he do?" (Always a personal favorite of mine.) "Where is he from?" And the ultimate, ever uncomfortable, never truly answerable, "Is it serious?"
"No it isn't serious, Mom. He's got issues…I'd rather not get into it."
"Like what?"
"Did you not just hear what I said? Tristan has set some very clear limits on what kind of 'relationship' he will and won't have."
"Oh? Don't you get a say in it?"
"Not if I want to continue to see him."
"I see."
"I'm glad you see because I am utterly confused."
"Well he seems a very nice young man. He's successful, handsome and obviously," she swept her hand around the room, "cares a great deal about your well-being."
"Mother, I'm not sure Tristan is capable of caring in the way you and I would define it. But, yes, he has been very kind and generous. He's gone out of his way to take control of our problem."
"Do I detect a note of uncertainty?"
"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the way he swept into our circumstance and made it his."