Golden Lies (32 page)

Paige knew she should have felt embarrassed, ashamed by her behavior on a public street no less, but there was laughter bubbling up from deep down inside. And she couldn't stop it from bursting out, especially when Riley was already laughing.

"Stop," she said, getting a side ache. She turned away from him. "If I look at you, I'm going to keep laughing."

"It's good for you."

She turned back around. "You're good for me." His laughter stopped. His expression changed like a cloud over the sun. "Paige—"

"Don't say anything." She held up her hand. "This is a great moment. Let's just leave it at that."

"I knew you could make it up that hill."

"You had more faith in me than I did. You've done this before, haven't you?"

"A few times."

"Like every day?"

"Three or four times a week," he admitted. "But not just this hill. There are always higher hills to climb, especially in this city."

She wondered what the hills really stood for. She doubted he would tell her even if she asked. Instead, she looked down the hill from where they had come. "I did pretty good."

"You did. Ready for the next one?"

"No way."

"You said that before."

"Maybe next time."

He studied her thoughtfully, then nodded. "Maybe next time. Ready for the best part?"

"Going down?"

"Absolutely. You earned it. Now enjoy it."

She put her helmet back on and picked up her bike. She had a momentary fear of the steepness of the downhill ride, but she pushed it away. Today was not a day for holding back but for going forward.

She sailed down the hill, the wind in her face bringing tears to her eyes—at least that's what she wanted to blame the emotion on. She knew she was lying to herself. It wasn't the wind making her cry; it was the feeling that she'd finally broken through. And the odd thing was she hadn't even realized she was holding back until now.

"How was that?" Riley asked her as he joined her at the bottom.

"It was good, but it wasn't the best part," she admitted. "The best part were those last few feet at the top of the hill."

His eyes burned bright at her reply, and they exchanged a long look of complete and total understanding.

"Was it that way for you, too?" she asked.

"It usually is," he admitted. "But today the best part was when I was kissing you, and you were kissing me back."

She smiled at him. "I hate to break this to you, Riley, but you could have had that kiss an hour ago when we were standing in your garage."

He laughed. "Now you tell me."

"I'll race you back to your apartment."

"Feeling cocky, are you?"

"Absolutely. And I like it!" She hopped on the bike and began riding back the way they had come. It didn't matter if she beat Riley or not. She'd already won the biggest battle of the day, the one going on inside herself.

Alyssa jogged up the stairs to her mother's apartment Saturday afternoon and knocked on the door. As she waited, she found herself foolishly smiling, which was pretty much what she'd been doing since she'd left Ben's apartment the night before. She'd had a good time with him, better than she'd expected. In fact, he'd reminded her of what she'd liked in him before, his intelligence, his dry sense of humor, his ability to see into her head, to make her take life less seriously.

If only he weren't Chinese, or, at the very least, if only he didn't live in Chinatown and wasn't so closely tied to this neighborhood, maybe then she could consider him as someone she could date. But ... she glanced over her shoulder, realizing how close he lived to this building, only three short blocks away. It wasn't nearly far enough.

Her mother finally opened the door and beckoned for her to come in. "Are you all right?" Jasmine asked, her gaze traveling up and down Alyssa's body, as if she were checking for bruises or broken bones.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I've been calling you since yesterday. Why didn't you call me back?"

"I didn't get a chance," Alyssa said, knowing that she'd had plenty of chances, but she'd been battling herself over how much she wanted to get involved with the missing dragon, her mother, and her newly discovered father. "What's wrong?" she asked, seeing the deep worry lines stretching across her mother's forehead. "Why are you so upset?"

"You shouldn't have spoken to your grandfather about the dragon."

"Oh. Well, I ran into him in the square. I was going to talk to Grandmother, but I couldn't find her. She wasn't at the shop."

"She came to see me."

"She came here?" Alyssa echoed in amazement. "What did she say? What did she want?"

Instead of answering her, Jasmine walked over to the nearby easel and stared at the still-wet painting. She was stalling, Alyssa thought, wondering why. She also noticed that her mother had once again painted the dragon, and this one was more distinct, the details sharp and clear where before they had always been hazy.

"You can't stop painting it, can you?" she asked.

"I try, but whatever object I start to paint always turns into this."

"What did Grandmother want?"

"She told me that I had seen the dragon at a museum in Taiwan, that I had tried to touch it, and the alarms went off, frightening me. That's why I have such bad dreams about it."

Alyssa considered the explanation. It was so simple, so easy. "Why didn't she tell you that before? When I asked Grandfather, he said you had never seen a dragon like the one you dream about."

Her mother looked as confused as she felt. "I don't know, Alyssa."

"They're not telling us the truth, are they?"

"We should not speak ill of our elders. It is wrong, disrespectful. We must honor them."

Alyssa had heard those words a thousand times, but she had always had a difficult time equating her grandparents' behavior with honor.

"My mother reminded me that the story of the dragons includes a curse on all first daughters," Jasmine continued. "Because I touched the dragon the other day, I may have brought the curse down upon you, Alyssa. I am worried about you."

Her mother's words rocked her back on her heels. She'd never thought about the curse in terms of herself. Did she even believe in curses? Wasn't that just more superstitious foolishness?

"I'm not worried," she said, trying to ignore the unease sweeping through her body.

"You should not taunt fate."

"Ben already told me about the curse, but we don't even know if the dragon you saw is part of that story, that set."

"You went to see Ben?" her mother asked in astonishment. "Why? Why would you do that? You don't care about the dragon or Ben."

"I care about you. I care about the fact that the dragon is missing, and you might have been the last person to see it before Mr. Hathaway was attacked just a few blocks from here." She couldn't quite bring herself to call him her father. It still didn't seem real.

"I didn't hurt David."

"Of course not. But he's a rich man, and his family has connections. If they need someone to blame, who better than you?"

"You don't have to worry about me."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. I love you. You're my mother."

Tears came to Jasmine's eyes. "I brought you into a world of shame."

"You brought me into a world of opportunity. And I thank God that you did. I can be whoever I want to be."

"I know it hasn't been easy for you."

"You were the one who had it the worst," Alyssa said generously, even though she still couldn't quite forgive her mother for withholding the name of her father for so many years.

"What about David?"

"What about him? He obviously didn't want to know me. If he did, he would have asked you about me. He would have wanted to see me."

"It is much more complicated than that," Jasmine replied with a helpless wave of her hand. "He did ask at times. I refused. I had my reasons. I didn't want you to be confused any more than you already were."

"That I don't understand, but it was your choice."

"Yes, perhaps it was wrong. I don't know anymore, but he is awake now."

"He is?" she asked, her body tightening.

"It was on the news last night."

"Well, that's good, I guess. He can clear you if the police come back." Alyssa paused, not sure she was ready to ask the question in her head, but it came out before she could stop it. "How did you two meet? How did a humble Chinese girl from Chinatown meet a rich, handsome man like David Hathaway?"

"It is a long story."

Alyssa sat down on the couch. "Tell me."

Jasmine stood in the center of the room, looking decidedly uncomfortable, but finally she began to speak. "I met him at a party at his home. I was working as a waitress for a caterer, and the Hathaways had ordered a special Chinese feast in honor of David's birthday." She paused. "He was very sad that night. His daughter had died only a few weeks earlier."

"His daughter?" Alyssa asked in shock. "I thought Paige was an only child."

"No, there was an older girl. Her name was Elizabeth. David left the feast as soon as possible. I was on the terrace collecting glasses. He started talking to me. I think for some reason I was the only one in the house that night that he could talk to. He said they were all pretending -- his wife, his father, his friends. They were acting as if life was normal, but he didn't think it would ever be normal again." She took a breath, collecting her memories. "I don't know how it happened. One minute we were talking, and the next minute we were kissing. It was wrong. He was married. But there was something between us, a connection. I felt as if we belonged together, as if this was meant to be for some reason."

Her mother made it sound romantic and lovely, but the consequences of that night had been anything but. Her own existence was a testament to that fact.

"I fell in love with him at first sight," Jasmine continued. "I've loved him ever since."

"But he never really loved you, did he?" she asked sharply.

"I suppose not," her mother admitted, her voice edged with pain.

"And he never loved me, either." Alyssa made it a statement, not a question.

"He couldn't. He thought loving you would be a betrayal of his love for his daughter Elizabeth. He had come to me out of grief. When I became pregnant; when I had a daughter, he didn't know how to react. For him to care about you seemed wrong."

"Were you together after I was born?"

Jasmine cleared her throat somewhat awkwardly. "A few times in the early years, usually around Elizabeth's birthday. I thought that's why he had come this past week to see me. Her birthday is on Wednesday. I was surprised when the reason for his visit was the dragon."

Alyssa nodded, her mind reeling with the information she had just received. "So you and my father met by chance at a party. It seems like such a coincidence."

"What do you mean?"

"When I was at Ben's apartment, I saw a photo of my two grandfathers. Wallace Hathaway was shaking Grandfather's hand at a New Year's celebration a long time ago. Don't you think it's odd that they knew each other?"

"It's not odd at all. When my father first came to San Francisco, he worked at the House of Hathaway."

"He did?" Alyssa asked in amazement, wondering when she would stop being surprised.

"Yes, but it was only for a short time. It was a long time ago, before he and your grandmother started the herb shop. I used to wish when I was a little girl that he worked at Hathaway's still, so he could take me inside. At Christmas when we'd walk by the store, I thought it was so beautiful, all the lights, the glass, the fancy people. My mother would never let me go inside. She said it was not the place for a poor girl from Chinatown."

Alyssa heard the wistfulness in her mother's voice and wondered if that was when the love was born. Had her mother coveted something Hathaway from the time she was a little girl? Was that why she had an affair with a married man twenty-something years later? "Do my grandparents know that David Hathaway is my father?" she asked.

"No, they don't," Jasmine said immediately.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, absolutely. I told no one."

"Did my father tell anyone?"

"No, he kept it a secret. He couldn't bear for his family to know what he had done."

She could certainly believe that. "Well, they know now."

"We can't cause them any trouble, Alyssa. I have always promised David that I would not hurt his family."

"I'm his family, too," she reminded her mother. "In fact, I just realized something. I'm a Hathaway. And I should own a piece of that fancy store that a poor girl from Chinatown didn't belong in."

"Alyssa, no. You can't upset things."

She was tempted, very tempted. She could make big trouble for David Hathaway and his family. She could sue him for paternal support, for a stake in Hathaway's and the rest of the family investments. She could win enough money to support her mother in the fashion she deserved for the rest of her life. Even if she didn't win a lawsuit, she could sell their story to the tabloids for a fortune, as Paige had suggested. The Hathaway's deserved everything they got.