'Till Time Do Us Part: Upon A Time, #1

PROLOGUE

Eight Years Earlier

Nika, wake up. Alex maneuvered the car to a full stop.

When she refused to budge, he administered an elbow jab to the ribs, a sure way to get his sleeping cousin out of her slumber.

What? Why?

Nika sprang up, like a cork out of a champagne bottle, and banged her forehead against the dashboard in the process.

Ouch! she yelped, massaging her abused head.

He gave her his lopsided, pirate grin.

Poor baby. Have a boo-boo?

Shut up, Cuz. Where are we? And why did we stop?

"Well, my girl, according to the sign, we are in the fine old town of Fernandina Beach, Florida. As to why we stopped, he grimaced The car has finally given up. She couldn’t take it any longer, poor thing. So, here we are."

I told you we should take my car instead of this heap. But did you listen?

"What, take a red, brand-spanking new Ferrari to make our secret escape from Manhattan? Yeah, that would’ve been a very covert operation indeed!"

Nika shrugged off his remark, especially since he was absolutely right. In her car they would have been located and stopped in a matter of minutes.

And why are we in Florida? I thought we were stopping in Georgia for a few days.

Well, we reached the Peach State last night, while you were in a deep slumber, but I didn’t feel like stopping. Why? Did you want to see something in particular there?

No, but we are supposed to talk and agree on things, both of us. She glared at him.

What if I didn’t want to go to Fernandina Beach?

Well, if you don’t, we’ll go somewhere else. As soon as we figure out how.

He patted the dashboard of the now dead car with his hand, and drew a deep breath. Then grinned at Nika.  Yeah, that would’ve been a very covert operation indeed!

"You wanted an adventure, my girl. I’d say, your wish came true!

Yeah, I’d say, she grumbled, pretending to be mad. Secretly she was as pleased as her cousin. But since the second-hand heap, camouflaged as a car, was his idea, and especially since he passed through Georgia without consulting her first, she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook easily. She didn’t want to stop anywhere in particular, or see anything in that state, truth be told. Principle. It was just a matter of principle to her. If they were true partners, they should make all the decisions together. Period. On that Nika was firm. When she first presented him with her idea of the Grand Adventure, or more accurately running away from their fathers, she made sure they both agreed on the most important basic terms. They were to share everything, tell the truth no matter what, and—the cardinal rule—make all the decisions mutually. He took an oath and violated it in a matter of days simply because he didn’t care to stop in Georgia. The moron! Her annoyance evaporated as soon as she turned to her favorite cousin.

Just look at the idiot!

He was grinning ear-to-ear, happy as you please, sitting in a dead car smack in the middle of a street, in some tiny picturesque town at five in the morning. Was it any wonder she simply adored him?

What do you say, my girl?

She may never forgive him for being a jerk, but Nika was crazy about her cousin since childhood. She couldn’t stop her grin even if she wanted to.

"I say, our Grand Adventure came to a screeching halt. What do you propose we do, partner?"

"Let’s see, partner. He fluffed her hair in a familiar manner that had driven her nuts since they both were in diapers. Her crazy mane of curls probably resembled a crow’s nest by now. How much money do we have?"

Nika, who was their financial manager, replied without a pause, Ninety-seven dollars, thirty-three cents in cash.

Credit cards?

Two thousand, give or take. If the fathers didn’t block them yet.

Their fathers, identical twins Joseph and Jacob, were the heads of the international Manhattan investment bank and financial services Morris & Morris and a formidable force to be reckoned with. By running away from home they had violated the Two Golden Rules of the Morris’s.

Rule number One– the twins (as they were called by friend and foe alike) are always right.

Rule number Two – If you think otherwise, look at rule one or get out of the way.

And that is precisely what they did. They both disagreed with the rule number One, especially where their life choices were concerned.

Let’s hope for the best. Alex, always the optimist, glanced at Nika. Or we could call one or the other?

What, call Dad? For money? Are you out of your mind?

Well, you could call my dad, and I could call yours.

And tell them what? That they were right, and we can’t survive without them constantly supervising our every step, or dictating our every move? And prove them right? Out of the question. I’d rather starve. Nika banged her small fist against the dashboard with a surprising force and winced. Never.

Yeah, bad idea. He nodded. "Well, there is always Verochka. She supported our cause and even bought this heap, as you call it, for us."

"Grandmother might back our decision to stand on our own and rule our lives, but even she won’t go so far as to lend us money behind the twins’ backs. Her conscience would force her to tell them our location. Nika gritted her teeth in frustration.  You know the cops would be after us, trying to capture the fugitive children."

They won’t go that far! Would they? He turned his troubled eyes to her. Looking into those eyes was like looking in the mirror. Only two out of the six children the twins produced, had inherited the unusual violet-blue shade of eyes from their Grandmother Vera, or Verochka as everyone called her.

You never know, and I don’t want to find out for sure. Nika dragged both hands through the mess of her tangled curls. She shook her mane in a defiant manner and then smiled recklessly at her partner in crime.

Hell, our luck has held up so far, Cuz. I say, let’s stick to the plan and make it a true Grand Adventure. Let’s stop here, in this town, and start building our lives from scratch.

Here? In Fernandina Beach?

He focused on her, then glanced out of the window at the sleepy town, quaint and picturesque, and somehow unreal, shimmering mysteriously in the first rays of the rising sun.

Why not? The weather is always warm in the Sunshine State, or so they claim. A big plus. The ocean is right here, so the seafood and shrimp galore, a huge plus. Nika, warming to the subject, leaned forward. The history is all around us, I can feel it! The houses, the streets, the atmosphere—it’s where we are supposed to be, Cuz. I can see us here in three, five, even eight years from now. We’ll start a business. Yes! A company we always wanted to start, just the two of us.

And what would that company of ours do? Alex asked with a chuckle. His own misgivings on the subject evaporated shortly after his younger cousin by a mere month spoke. He found it absolutely impossible to stay in a bleak mood longer than a few minutes in her presence. Her exuberance and enthusiasm were simply overwhelming, her thirst for adventure and her stubborn belief that life is beautiful were highly contagious. At least, it was always to him. Even as a boy, he shadowed his miniature tornado of a cousin, constantly in one trouble after another, but unable to resist the temptation. The most miserable period of his life was his four years of Harvard. Nika’s grades were not good enough so she attended a local college. Now, they were both graduates with freshly minted diplomas and two sets of irate parents they managed to piss off by running away on the Grand Adventure. They escaped right after their graduation party the twins had thrown for them two weeks ago. It was a desperate and daring move and yes, a rebellion against the dictatorial regime of the Morris’s households, where Jacob and Joseph reigned supreme.

Anyone unfamiliar with their fathers or their methods, might have considered their escape as an extreme measure. But to the members of the family, including the six children, who lived by the Two Golden Rules, and the staff of the Morris & Morris bank, such wasn’t the case.

Even the twins’ mother Verochka, their favorite grandmother, was in a state of a constant awe, not to mention bafflement, of her own offspring. It didn’t stop her, however, from aiding and abetting Nika and Alex. Verochka had a strong independent streak along with a firm and unshakable belief in freedom. Her motto - every person has the right to shape his or her own destiny, and be happy. And, of course, because she absolutely adored the pair of them.

We can do anything we want. We can try many different things before we find our own milieu. Well, what do you say, partner?

Heck, why not? Let’s do it, partner.

Nika laughed and, launching at him, threw her arms around his neck.

I’m so happy! I’m happy you decided to drive past Georgia, I’m happy our car has died on us, I’m happy to be here. I just know it’s where we are supposed to be. We’ll make it happen, Cuz. Just wait and see. We’ll make it fine on our own. And we will show the whole wide world what Morris & Morris Jrs. are capable of.

Please, he grimaced. "Not Morris & Morris. Whatever we call our future company, I want your solemn promise we absolutely will not mix the twins’ name into it."

You got it, darling. Nika placed her palm onto his face and gave it a light pat. She knew the ordeal was much harder on him than he let on. He was her almost-genius, soft-hearted, and serious cousin. A man who found it impossible to hurt a fly. Let alone defy their overbearing fathers. He might have entered Harvard Law School and finish it with flying colors, then join the family firm and be miserable for the rest of his life if not for her and her ingenious escape plan. Well, what was a younger cousin for. Nika was delighted for them both and the world in general. 

"Let’s name it Before and After, then. Before we came here—and after we settle here. Get it? And we make sure that whatever it is we’ll do, it will make a lasting impact on this town and its people. How about that, Cuz?"

"Before and After. Holy cow, I like it!"

He reminded her of a little boy, happy, kind and joyous, who followed her every step and got her out of mischief more than she cared to admit. Or, the times he couldn’t talk her out of it and joined her. Like right now. Was it any wonder she loved him more than her own brothers? Actually, more than anyone in the world. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

Fate, you fickle bitch, here we are, and here we stay, for better or worse, he shouted through the open window of the derelict broken-down car, delirious and carefree.

Here we are, Nika joined in, poking her head out through the passenger window, her own voice clear and sonorous like a silver bell, and here we stay! And let’s see how that fickle bitch Fate will dare to defy us now!

PART ONE

The Coleman House

CHAPTER ONE

Why are you so riled up? You wanted the Coleman house, you fought for it like a woman possessed for more than two years. And now, when it literally got dumped into your lap, you’re getting all huffy and puffy. What gives?

Alex stopped the car in front of the hotel and turned the engine off. To say that he was pissed off was the understatement of the century.

Nika kept silent, infuriatingly so, but her face and her whole demeanor screamed ‘mad’ with a capital M. At least, she went to the trouble to dress herself for the occasion. He wouldn’t have put it past her to go to this dinner meeting in grubby jeans and a paint-stained t-shirt and crowned with her infamous baseball cap. He exited the car, handed the valet his keys, and turned to his aggravating business partner, his cousin and all-around best pal. But she had already reached the entrance of the Ritz-Carlton hotel where their anonymous client had invited them to dinner. A business dinner meeting, to be precise.

Nika, seriously, he tried again after he caught up with her. Even though diminutive in size, her stride was that of an athlete, or a person who was accustomed to serious physical exercise or manual labor. Nika scored on both counts. At least, let’s listen to the man.

Nika halted in midstride. The stubborn frown that marred her high forehead was endearingly familiar. Her violet eyes were hot and blazing fire. Her infamous Morris temper, he concluded, was at a boiling point.

Nik, please. And if you won’t relax those muscles, you’ll get a permanent line up there. Always a pacifist, he smiled at her mutinous, angry face and tapped the frown that etched between her brows. Usually it made her laugh. Not this time, though. Giving up, he drew in a deep breath. He put both hands on her shoulders, and kept them there. Okay, Nika. If you don’t want to, let’s turn around and leave. We’ll send a note with our apologies, saying that something came up at the last minute and we couldn’t make it. And we refuse the job.

You’ll do it too. You’ll lie and refuse an important project, because of me. She covered his hands still lying on her shoulders with her own and gave him one of her most brilliant smiles. She raised up on her tiptoes and then plunked a sloppy kiss on his chin. Thanks, pal. I love you, too.

Hey, that’s what families are all about. Alex let go of her shoulders after the last squeeze. So, partner, what do you say?

I say, partner, let’s get this business—whatever this is—over with, and get the hell out. What do you say we grab a pint of Guinness at the Palace?

The oldest operating bar in Florida, the Palace Saloon, was the favorite local watering hole that traced its history as far back as 1878. Both Nika and Alex adored its unique ambience and had become regulars over the years.

Say it’s your treat, and I’m all yours.

You such a cheap date, Alexander Morris!

But you’re crazy about me, Veronika Morris!

Together they climbed the last step to the ornate entrance doors of the famous hotel.

Salt, an acclaimed restaurant at Ritz Carlton, was located on the main floor, so it took them less than few minutes to get there.

We are expected, he said as he gave their names to the hostess.

We just don’t know by whom, Nika added in a saccharine voice, getting her hackles up once again.

Nik, he growled in warning, his own smile strained at the corners.

Nika shrugged, annoyed. She didn’t know why she was so pissed, but the whole business with the Coleman house—the secrecy and the stupid cloak-and-dagger games surrounding it—rubbed her the wrong way. Plus, the fiasco with its acquisition. Alex was right, she wanted the house badly. Something fierce, as her grandmother always said. For two years, she had been doing everything in her power, and beyond that to get the current heirs to sell the house to Before and After, Inc. To no avail. And now, just two days earlier they had received an offer no sane person could possibly refuse to fully restore and renovate the Coleman house to its former glory. The funds were unlimited and they had carte blanche. The time frame of the work—as long as needed. And the full cooperation of the current owner and the historical society.

So, Nika summarized in her mind, no deadline, no limit on a budget and no roadblocks from the notorious organization and anonymous heirs. The sky’s the limit. The ultimate dream-job. Why then, she asked herself for the umpteenth time, was she so uneasy to accept it? Or so frightened?

That’s it! That what was making her so angry. Reality hit her like a jackhammer. She was scared. Unabashedly and unreasonably. For the first time in her career, she, a local legend aptly acclaimed by friend and foe as a house whisperer was afraid to... what? Fail? Ridiculous. The Coleman house ‘spoke’ to her as no other had for the longest time.

This way, Mr. & Ms. Morris, the hostess said, interrupting her unwelcomed musings and invited them to follow her.

Here goes, Alex muttered.

They were led to a faraway table tucked cozily into a corner. It was already occupied by a distinguished looking stranger in a dark suit who immediately got up as soon as they approached the table. Their mysterious host, Nika deduced. Even though the lights inside the restaurant were dim, he looked vaguely familiar.

Thank you both for accepting my somewhat unorthodox invitation, the stranger said in his smooth cultured tenor with a whisper of northern crispiness in it.

As soon as they were face to face, both of them recognized the man. No wonder he was trying to stay anonymous!

Senator, Alex said, momentarily taken aback. This is a surprise, to say the least. He recovered quickly, though, and pumped heartily the outstretched hand.

Nika too was surprised to see one of the current Senators from Massachusetts standing in front of her, shaking hands with her cousin.

I thought you looked familiar, she blurted in lieu of a hello when his quiet gray gaze settled on her. What are you doing here?

Why, meeting you, of course. Senator Elijah Lauder flashed a courteous smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He appeared even more uncomfortable than she. His uneasiness filled the air, even though his gaze never wavered and his manners were impeccable. But the good Senator from the North wasn’t in his usual milieu, so to speak, and despite fitting seamlessly in the plush and posh atmosphere of the Ritz’s famous restaurant, he was still not on his home turf.

He held the chair for her, and nodded at the waiter.

I took the liberty of ordering the drinks for us. I hope it will meet with your approval.

Champagne? Nika eyed the label (Dom Perignon) and arched her brows. Are we celebrating?

I hope so.

Senator gave another nod to the waiter. They waited until their flutes were filled. I really hope that the two of you have read my proposal and came to an agreeable decision.

The proposal came from the attorney’s office, not from you, Senator, Nika countered before her cousin said anything. And anyway, how are you involved in this?

Allow me to explain. Senator Lauder put his flute down without a sip. My full name is Elijah Coleman Lauder. My grandmother, Margaret Coleman, was the only surviving child of Elijah— or Eli— Coleman, the original owner of the house. She married Maximilian Lauder in 1940, and my father was born after a couple of years. I was very close to my grandmother, who passed away just recently.

I’m sorry, Nika murmured, lowering her eyes. The genuine sadness in the Senator’s eyes was making her uncomfortable, like she was witnessing something personal and very intimate.

Thank you. She was a very special lady. Very special indeed.

He took a small sip of his champagne, still obviously lost in memories, then put the flute down and focused his piercing eyes on Nika.

She remembered her parents—her father Eli, who I was named after, and her mother, Daisy—vividly and in great detail. My grandmother was the only person I’ve ever met with the eyes of a very usual color: violet-blue. The same shade as yours.

More baffled than surprised, Nika sipped her champagne.

That’s... interesting. Then again, Alex has the same violet eyes like me. We both inherited them from our grandmother.

Anybody else in the family, or just the two of you?

Only us. Why?

Just curious.

Nika had a strong hunch that it wasn’t the case, but she chose to keep her thoughts to herself.

I am sorry, Senator, but what does our eye color have to do with anything?

Maybe nothing, maybe a great deal. The last words were uttered so quietly that Nika almost missed them. A sudden chill ran up and down her spine, raising the fine hair on the nape of her neck.

Anyway. The Senator sat straighter as if he had given himself a mental shake. My grandmother had a secret. Or, more accurately, she made a secret promise to her father that she kept for many years.

And that secret was? Alex prompted after a pause. He, too, was intrigued, but puzzled by Nika’s reaction. Her face became drawn and unusually pale. Or was it a trick played by the dim light? Alex turned his eyes back to the Senator, but took one of Nika’s hands in his, and closed his fingers firmly around it. The sign of it didn’t escape the Senator, and he gave both cousins a warm smile, that finally reached his expressive eyes and made his face simply arresting.

That secret, my young friends, was a small envelope and a sworn promise to find Before & After, Inc. and its two owners, Veronika and Alexander Morris, and make sure they’ll agree to renovate the old Coleman House.

That’s it? Nika made a strange sound, somewhere between a croak and a chuckle.

That’s it. Oh, and the most important of all—it was supposed to be done no earlier or later than September 2019.

He squeezed his cousin’s hand in a death grip and leaned forward. His usual cheerful disposition had evaporated in a flash.

Senator, with all due respect, this is... nonsense.

Nika kept silent.

I admire your restraint, Senator Lauder answered with a good-natured chuckle. I myself reacted more in terms of crazy or delirious.

And was she? Nika finally broke the silence.

Was she what? Crazy? No, not at all. My grandmother, God rest her soul, was sharp as a tack until her last day. She was the rock. Even confined in a wheelchair, she was the strongest, bravest soul I’ve ever met. She was totally in charge of her mental faculties.

How did your great-grandfather even know about Before & After, Inc.? And why 2019? Suspicion spread across Alex’s face. Why not 2009 or 2017?

That, my friend, I don’t know. And neither did my grandmother. Yes, he answered the unspoken question, I asked. She just shrugged and said that what her Father had asked of her.

And she promised, just like that?

Yes, just like that.

And she was the only heir of Elijah’s, Nika said. It wasn’t a question, but the Senator answered her, nonetheless.

Correct. She was the sole owner of his estate, such as it is.

And that’s why the family refused to sell the house for so many years.

Yes. She knew through her attorneys of your interest in it, and of your numerous proposals to buy it. But she refused. As I understand now, she was holding onto her promise to her father. When she felt it was almost her time. He stopped and cleared his throat before continuing. She called me and asked me to come to her at once. She was living in Virginia at the time. I flew there immediately. At that meeting, which happened to be our last, she entrusted me with her secret and took a solemn promise from me that I will comply with my great-grandfather’s wish, however crazy and delirious it might have seemed. So, here I am.

So, here you are, Nika murmured as she studied the senator. Do you have her picture?

Grandmother’s? Of course. He produced a wallet out of his breast pocket, opened it, and removed a photo. He offered it to Nika. It was a snapshot of a woman in her late sixties-early seventies. She was smiling at the camera, her eyes crinkled at the corners. Nika’s heart gave one hard thump against her ribcage.

You said your grandmother had violet eyes.

Yes.

Do you know who she inherited them from? But even before he answered, Nika knew.

Her mother, the Senator answered. It is family lore that my great-grandfather nick-named her Daisy, for she resembled a flower.

The chills ran down Nika’s spine.

And her real name? she asked, holding her breath.

Nobody knew. She was Daisy Coleman. Even on her tombstone her name is engraved like that.

Why do I feel like crying all of a sudden?

Did your grandmother talk about her?

Not so much, come to think of it.

So, what do you know about Daisy?

To his credit, the senator didn’t move a muscle at the catch in her voice.

Very little. He frowned. Nobody knew exactly where she came from, or who her family was. She was the second wife of Eli Coleman, the love of his life, according to all accounts. She was the mother of his only child, my grandmother Margaret. And that’s about it.

And she had the violet eyes and golden curls.

Golden curls? How do you know that? Alex asked.  

Yes, my dear, how did you figure that out? Senator Lauder cocked an eyebrow.

I...I don’t know, Nika couldn’t tear her eyes from the small picture. She raised her left hand to her blond hair with its springy curls she had struggled to tame since she was a child.  A few years ago she cut them chin length, easier to hide under her baseball cap. As a result, her hair resembled a golden dandelion.

It just seems right, somehow.

I will verify with the family historian, but—

Family historian? Nika’s chuckle rung hollow even to her own ears. Fancy that!

Well, when the family is one of the oldest and most prominent pillars of the Amelia Island community and related to the Carnegies, and the Father of Florida railroads, David Yulee himself, it’s no wonder. The Senator shrugged without false modesty. Anyway, I will do my research—

No need, Senator, Nika interrupted, reluctantly handing back the picture. As the restoration project manager, it is my job to do all kinds of research, family pictures included.

She raised her flute in a small salute.

So, you are taking the job?

Yes, we are. She glanced at her cousin. A twinge of guilt bit at her. Usually they made all decisions together, especially such an important one. This time, however, Nika took it upon herself to voice a decision without consulting her partner first.

Are you sure, Nik? he asked.

He probably didn’t give a damn about her making a decision solo. Yet his actions were strange, his demeanor subdued. Something must have bothered him the entire evening. She had no idea what that was but eventually he may tell her.

I’m sure. The image of their grandmother Verochka popped into her mind. I am very sure.

Well, then.

Alex took a deep breath, let it out, and raised his champagne glass.

To the new project, then, may it be a smashing success!

Senator Lauder clinked his flute with both of theirs. To the Coleman house.

To the Coleman house, Alex echoed.

To the Coleman family, Nika said and upended her champagne in one gulp.

Oh, I almost forgot. The senator drew a small yellowed envelope from his pocket. I’m supposed to give you this.

What’s this?

Nika’s hands grew icy-cold as she reached across the table. Her heart beat erratically against her ribs, like a desperate bird trying to escape its cage.

She was suddenly as afraid as if she had seen a ghost.

"The letter from Eli Coleman, my great-grandfather. I promised Margaret to deliver it to you personally.