For Better or Hearse

Chapter Thirty-Nine

N athaniel Whitford loves her.

The reminder, the cult chant, runs through her head over the dream of the last few days. This stern, serious, kind man loves her. And she loves him back.

Yes, he has to leave in less than twenty-four hours for an oil rig in the Pacific. But he’ll be back.

And they’ll be together. For the first time in a long time, she feels like she can live happily. Live bravely.

Nathaniel makes her feel like she already is. She’s still that defiant girl who’s maybe made too many mistakes, but she keeps getting back up and trying again anyway. Like all the trials and doubt she’s faced to get here were worth it. Meant to be.

He moved mountains to be with her. She’d never ask him to, and yet he did. He supports her hobbies, her business. He believes in her. He’s the epitome of constant reassurance wrapped up in the perfect package of a man.

Which really fucks with her state of mind.

Her old anxiety, the concerns about what they were, are soon edged out by a new one.

Like all good things, it could end too soon. What if he goes back to the rig and realizes he’s made a mistake? What if her absence makes his heart wander? What if all they are is puppy love in paradise?

Ash has to remind herself, a continuous loop of positive feedback in her head—in a voice that sounds a lot like Tessie’s—that it’s not ending. It’s only just beginning.

“I think my father wants to kidnap you and keep you in the basement with his trains,” Ash says one night after another long dinner at her parents’ house, where her father and Nathaniel set up a new train track. They drank red wine and listened to Nat King Cole until Ash had to drag him away.

Nathaniel’s reflection appears in the mirror. Toothbrush in hand, he comes up behind her to nuzzle the curve of her neck. “I would be honored to sleep in the train basement.”

She tips her head back against his chest. “Brown-noser.”

He kisses her brow. “Are you going to be okay when I leave?”

Twisting in his arms, she tips her chin. Takes him in. Inhales a steadying breath.

“Yes,” she says. “I have Augustus. And my business.” Dread and excitement churn in her stomach. “I’m going to talk to a lawyer and see what else I need to do before I launch.”

It’s nowhere close to being in her wheelhouse. Planning. Organization. All for A Very Good Death . But she wants it so much. And she’ll get it. The future. Their future.

“I’m proud of you.” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “We have service on the rig. I’ll call as much as I can.”

Gripping the front of his T-shirt, she says, “I want you to be safe out there, okay? I’m the only one who kills you. Understand?”

Nathaniel barks a laugh. “Duly noted.”

Ash brushes, rinses her toothbrush off, spits in the sink. Nathaniel slips his hand into the blue-and-white kimono she bought in Japan and cups her breast. She purrs in his arms. The playful touches, the heated glances in the mirror. Even the act of brushing their teeth is foreplay.

In the mirror, Nathaniel crosses his muscular arms and leans back against the wall to watch her.

His expression is curious. Attentive. Always. She’ll turn to tell him something, only to find he’s deep in thought, considering her. That big, beautiful brain of his is working overtime. Her Very Tall Asshole who plans.

“Do you want kids?”

She freezes at the abrupt question. Wide-eyed, she meets his gaze in the mirror. Then turns to face him. “I, uh…I would. I want to travel first.”

He nods, grins. “Me too.”

“Girl or boy?”

“Either. Healthy. Happy. Not Chucky.”

Humming, he crosses his arms. “What did your wedding plans look like?”

She narrows her eyes. “Why?”

“So I can do it right.”

She almost faints dead away.

He chuckles softly. “Don’t look suspicious. I just love you.”

“You know what?” She smiles. Her heart hurts too much to possibly be good for her. “I’m just going to let you love me that much.”

“Good,” he says, taking her hand and tugging her into him. “Because I do.”

With a sigh, she lays her head on his chest and wraps her arms around his trim waist. “Sometimes I feel like I’m jinxing it.”

No matter how good things are going, she’ll always overthink it.

“You’re not,” he murmurs, stroking a hand down her back. “But I understand.”

Of course he does.

There’s a long second of silence as they hold each other.

“When I come home,” Nathaniel says, “I’ll have about three months off before I start back at Cedars.”

Her heart thrills at the prospect. “What should we do?”

“Travel. Let’s go to Tibet.”

“I’ve always wanted to go there.” She wiggles her brows, smiling. “Death vultures.”

“Ash.” His expression sobers. “I need you to tell me. When it gets bad for my grandfather. When to come home.”

“I will.” She holds his handsome face, her heart aching for him. “Of course I will. ”

He dips his head to kiss her palm. “Thank you,” he says, blinking back the silver in his eyes. “For being there for him. And for me.”

He picks her up in his arms, buries his face in her hair and lets out a shuddering breath. His gratefulness seeps through his tight hug and into her. “I love you,” he whispers, and the only sound after that is Ash’s thundering heart.

Augustus lives in the heart of Beverly Hills. An enchanting little stucco cottage covered in vines with prime views of the Hollywood hills. Earlier today, she gave a cemetery tour and then put the finishing touches on her website. While she worked, Nathaniel went with Augustus to the hospital to discuss in-home hospice plans.

Now they plan to have one last lunch before Nathaniel leaves for the Sophia Marie .

Ash shuts her car door and jogs up the hill. This is the best part about being here. Walking straight into Augustus’s house. No knock, no doorbell, just home.

Inside, it’s an homage to all of the man’s travels. Photos of the places he’s been and the people he’s met line the walls. Thailand. Vegas. South Africa.

Augustus comes around the corner. “Ash!”

“Hi,” she says, dropping her backpack with the goodies she brought on the foyer table.

She enfolds Augustus in a hug. He smells like lemons and thyme, fragrant herbs from his garden out back. “I brought whiskey,” she says, pulling away.

His eyes twinkle. “I made tea.”

Nathaniel appears then, stepping through the back door.

“How was it?” she asks, giving him a soft smile.

“It’s done.” He sets a tray of charcuterie on the table. “We arranged hospice. When the time comes, they’re ready. ”

She reads so much in his face. Concern, worry, but also resignation and that stoic calm she’s come to love.

“How long?”

“Six months.”

A knot of sadness rises in her throat. It’s a harsh reminder that Augustus isn’t infallible.

As if he reads everything on her face, Nathaniel slides a broad palm down her arm, squeezes. Ash blinks back tears.

Fuck. She’s too damn attached. To everyone.

Augustus tuts. “None of that.”

They eat in the garden. A simple meal of meats and cheeses and veggies. Whiskey and wine. Afterward, they go inside and spin records. The Beach Boys. The Bee Gees. Ash sits on the huge green sofa and plays chess with Augustus.

“I’m determined to beat him,” she tells Nathaniel.

He looks on with an amused expression, silent.

She can’t help but grin. “Just once.”

Augustus guffaws. “Just wait until the old brain is rotting. Then it’ll be easy to take advantage of me.”

She rolls her eyes. “You cannot play that card.”

Nathaniel settles beside her. A wide smile breaks across his face. Then he’s squinting, just like Augustus does when he’s pondering a deep thought. Smirking, he taps her rook. “You have to tighten it up, Bigfoot. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

She elbows him. “Hush. Let me lose in peace.”

Chuckling, he clutches her thigh with one enormous paw. Squeezes.

Without a doubt, she loses. After, Nathaniel and Augustus go at it. Grandson and grandfather battling it out for the win. Whiskey is poured. Some of the lightness ebbs. They make plans. They talk about how Ash will stay here near the end. About plans for his funeral. Who to invite. When to read the will.

Nathaniel’s brows get more and more furrowed until he stands and paces. Every so often, he stops and rubs her shoulder like she’s his touchstone. His way to cope. She soaks in the contact. She understands. He’s hers as well.

A mischievous smile on his face, Augustus rises from his chair. “Now I have something for the both of you,” he says, shuffling over to a photo on the wall. “But I need you to keep it on the down low, as the kids say.”

Nathaniel sits beside Ash, rests his elbows on his knees. “What is it?”

Without a word, Augustus tugs at the frame of the photo to reveal a safe.

Ash nudges Nathaniel’s shoulder. “Did you, uh, know about that?”

“Not a clue,” he mutters.

Augustus’s hand trembles as he twists the dial on the safe. It’s expected. The doctor told them his fine motor skills would be on the decline. When Ash meets his eye, Nathaniel makes a move to rise. Asks in a light tone, “You need help, Grandpops?”

The safe pops, and Augustus crows. “Ah-ha. Still got it.”

Nathaniel sits. Augustus returns, his eyes dancing with mischief. The object in his hand flashes gold for an instant before he deposits it in Ash’s palms.

She gasps, gapes at it. “Oh, holy shit, Augustus. Are you serious?”

To the bright sunlight of the window, she holds up a gold money clip with a mother of pearl inlay. Though polished bright, its age is evident. Weathered by time. She flips it over. Engraved on the front side are the initials CG .

“Grandpops…” Nathaniel’s eyes are wider than Ash has ever seen them. “Is this what I think it is?”

“It is.” A fond smile twists Augustus’s lips. “It was a gift from Carlo Giacomo. After I gave him a room at the Ambassador. It’s now yours.”

Ash hands the clip to Nathaniel, whispers, “We’re not going to get our legs broken just by looking at this, are we? ”

Nathaniel laughs, a bright, brilliant sound. Blue eyes lit with wonder, he runs a hand over his square jaw and evaluates the piece of history in his hands. “Grandpops, I need this story.”

Right then, Ash’s phone blares in her purse.

“Shit.” She hops up and heads for her backpack. As she brings out the device, her breath stalls in her windpipe. “Fuck.”

Nathaniel’s head snaps up. Stern brows furrowed, he asks, “Everything okay?”

No. It’s not.

Because of course. Of fucking course the universe has its own plans.

Instead, she forces a smile. And a lie. “New client. I have to take this.” She waves a hand. “Go ahead with the story. I’ll catch it later.”

With that, she heads for the backyard. Heart pounding, she winds her way through the roses and gardenias until she comes to a stone bench next to a small koi pond.

She steadies herself. Hits talk. “Hey, there.”

“Ash?” comes the hesitant voice.

She closes her eyes. “Camellia, hi.”

An image of Camellia forms in her mind. Beautiful. Sleek blond hair. Pearl earrings. Designer clothing as she walks the halls of her McMansion.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” Camellia says with false sincerity. “Time completely got away from me. How can I help you?”

She’s tempted to hang up.

In Hawaii, she wanted to know. Why. She wanted to know for herself. She felt like she owed Nathaniel. Now, though, she’s blissfully happy. By asking, would she be doing the right thing or the wrong thing? Is she meddling again, or is this some sort of fucked-up self-sabotage?

“Listen, I had a question.” Dread and anxiety join forces, stake a claim in her gut. But she goes on. “That photo you gave me. ”

Camellia’s breath hitches on the other end of the line, but Ash ignores it, powers through.

“It was Nathaniel’s sister.”

There’s a long, telling silence.

Ash swallows the burn in her throat. “But you knew that, didn’t you? You knew it was Delaney.”

“Ash—”

She closes her eyes. “You told me he was cheating on you. You hired me to break up your own wedding. You did that to your fiancé. To Nathaniel.” Her words come out in short, shaky bursts of anger. “Why? Why would you do that to him?”

“Because I didn’t want to marry him,” she snaps.

Ash freezes. Holds her breath.

A long silence, then— “I didn’t love him.”

“Fuck,” Ash breathes, pressing a hand to her heart. It hurts. She hurts for Nathaniel.

“Look, you don’t know what it was like,” Camellia protests. In the background, the sound of a baby crying. “Our parents wanted it. We had a big write-up in the LA times. Everyone had flown in.” Desperation laces her voice. “I put four years into that relationship. How would it look if I ended it?”

Heart pounding, Ash shakes her head in disbelief. “I think it would look like you were considerate enough to sit down with your fiancé and tell him you wanted to end it. Treat him like, you know, a real human being? Be a mature, reasonable adult.”

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. It was better this way. I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“So you let me do it instead?” Ash asks with an incredulous laugh.

Fury boils her blood. Camellia and Jakob, they’re the fucking same. Gaslighters to the end.

“You let me destroy your wedding, let the world think he was a cheater, let Nathaniel think god knows what for all these years. That’s incredibly fucked up. ”

Camellia’s tone is chilly. “I did what I had to do. I don’t expect you to understand it.”

Bristly protection rattles her spine. “Nathaniel’s a good man.”

“Look, why do you care? It was just a job, right?”

“Right. Just a job.” Ash lets out a drained breath. “You never deserved him anyway,” she tells Camellia. Without waiting for a response, she hangs up.