Chapter 4

Andre Jacques Lourdes. . .

He will be in charge of the Detroit Entrepreneurship Summer Camp from now on. Something he never imagined he would be doing in his life. But Camilla Lourdes loved helping people—in her way. Especially ‘displaced’ young adults who she knew had so much to offer to society. And this was exactly what led her to found the Lourdes Foundation six years ago. This was only the second edition of DESC and it was unfortunate she couldn’t be there to see how much success came out of it. To this cause, Andre was dedicated. If, for once in his life, outside the business world, he hoped to do right by his mother.

How helpful and livening was it that he came across Colleen Caddell? A woman who, stunningly, seemed to rivet him?

As the soft melody of Lana Del Rey’s ‘Dark Paradise’ wafted through the massive space of his living room, Andre waltzed into the kitchen, flipping open his cabinet to take out the two-piece cocktail shaker set to do what he knew how to do best,—asides closing million-dollar business deals—mix drinks. Into the shaker went an ounce of soda water, cranberry juice, orange juice, and vodka; a spoonful of ice and to top it off, lime juice. That was his signature mix and most definitely his best.

His phone buzzed just as he was pouring the mix into a rum glass.

To say he was surprised was nothing but an understatement. The caller’s ID had him wiping his eyes to confirm he wasn’t imagining things. Not that he had ever imagined his twin brother, Gaten Lourdes, calling after what was over fifteen years. Disposing the shaker into the sink, Andre hit the answer button.

“To what do I owe this surprise, brother?” he said into his phone, reaching for the stereo remote on his kitchen counter to turn down the volume of the music.

At the other end of the call, Gaten paused for a long while, probably contemplating what a bad decision this was. But after over a minute, he answered placidly, “A lovely evening to you, too, brother. And a pleasant surprise, I hope.”

“That depends, Gaten.” Andre's voice turned deadly serious. “Why are you calling?”

“Don’t tell me you’re still bedevilled with Lana Del Rey and all her songs of melancholy and heartbreak? Oh come on, Andre, you’re going to be thirty-one next month. There’s no way you’re still that little rebellious boy's mother shipped off to France to live out the rest of his life. Alone. In nothing but absolute sadness.”

And here he was thinking his brother had called because a small part of him wanted to reunite with the only family he had left. He should have known better. There was no hope for either of them.

“I’m not going to ask again, Gaten. Why are you calling?” he said coolly, stepping into his terrace that overlooked the busy beach at night time. “If you called to continue your endless loathing, I suggest you hang up.”

“I called to talk about our mother.” He revealed to an already annoyed Andre, whose hard expression softened at the thought of his mother.

“Her will hearing is scheduled for two months after her death. And that is over six weeks from now.”

“So that’s what you’re interested in, huh? Camilla’s will.”

“Don’t you do that,” Gaten scowled. “You, of all people, have no right to even say her name from that mouth of yours. She must be turning in her grave just hearing her name come out of your mouth. From the day I was born, I was interested in the woman who gave birth to us. I can’t say the same for you.”

Guilty! Yes, Andre was guilty. But circumstances made him so.

His brother continued. “As the only family that ever cared about her, I have been working hours—day and night—trying to find out who murdered our mother. And what have you been doing? Funding some dumb Entrepreneurship program?”

“It was Camilla’s dream to see this work. I am only doing this in honor of her.” Andre responded softly.

“Is that what you told yourself?” he scoffed. “Oh brother, you are still the same cold-hearted man I know. Even after your mother’s death, you’re seeking ways to gain the spotlight. That's it, right? You want the spotlight and a new plaything out of women that come to your resort for the summer.”

Andre didn’t even bother to argue. The media has painted him in this despicable light, noting him to be a cold-hearted and arrogant man. It was just unfortunate Gaten, who knew him more than anybody, thought so low of him.

“You’re the cop amongst us, brother. So allow me some slack. I would also like to see our mother’s killer and know his reasons. But you and I know Camilla was no saint.”

“Yes. Far from it,” Gaten noted. “I guess her children took after her, won’t you say?”

When he did not answer, he continued, stating his real reason for calling. “Now that she is gone, there is a vacancy on the board. So, as the only son that cared for her, I want to be a part of the board.”

“What board?”

“Lourdes Aerospace Board."

Andre fought the urge to laugh at the thought. “I’m sorry Gaten, your qualifications are rather suited to the judicial system. And don’t even consider this one,” he added almost immediately. “Except if Camilla left you a spot on the board in her will, there is no way you can get into Lourdes Aerospace with a degree in chasing bad guys.”

“How shallow you think of my credibility.”

“And how shallow you have always thought of me,” Andre retorted in a tone filled with suppressed rage.

Following this was a silence, raw and volatile. Neither of the brothers spoke for over two minutes. And when it seemed like this would go on all night, Gaten broke the silence. “Then I want to be a part of the Lourdes Foundation. At least until the will reading, when we’ll know who mother left in charge.”

“Until then, Gaten, I am CEO and owner. Before you go priding yourself around as the golden son of the Lourdes family, remember that. And of course, you’re always welcome to be a part of the Lourdes Foundation. That is the only family business that doesn’t require your degree.”

“So you wouldn’t mind me coming to your resort to attend one of those DESC events, would you?”

“Oh no-no, brother. Why would I?” Andre said rather dramatically. “As a matter of fact, we’re having a Meet and Greet dinner tomorrow evening at eight. You're invited to make an appearance. After all, you are our mother’s son.”

And without a proper goodbye, Gaten hung up. Unsurprising to Andre, he knew his brother had always lacked manners in dealing with people. He was everything the media said about Andre; cold-hearted, arrogant, stupendously rich, and just as much of a playboy as he was. But something was left out. He was way too ambitious and jealous.

Shaking his head and laughing to himself, Andre moved further into the terrace so that he was resting on the balustrade. As he sipped from his drink, his gaze wandered beneath him, to the beach where a bonfire was being held. His penthouse was specially crafted to his taste, location, position, and all. And although he was barely in Detroit, it was the only place that ever felt like home in his entire life.

As he observed the mini-party below, his eyes caught sight of a red-head. The same one that has been the lead character in his imagination the past couple of days. However, the woman below wasn’t Colleen. The confirmation came when the wig she was wearing fell off and she jumped into the arms of a man who groped her everywhere.

Though that didn’t stop his thoughts from circling that gray-eyed beauty he met in the men’s toilet two days before. Colleen probably had no idea how stunning she was, he thought. All the women he had met always wanted to show off. They were way over their heads and believed the world would fall at their feet. Then again, he hadn’t met plenty of women. So, everything about Colleen Caddell tantalized him.

Her fair skin was flawless. From her beige bow-shaped lips to those round gray eyes that had a gleam of positivity that could make you instantly feel comfortable around her, hooded with thick long lashes, she was nothing like the women he had come across.

And her hair! Oh, her hair!

That long strawberry-like hair that swept across one eye and tumbled well past her shoulders in wavy layers.

To crown it all, Colleen was the definition of humble, courteous, and intelligent. It was unfortunate she always had to downplay those virtues most of the time, because that was what made her so graceful.

Andre found himself starry-eyed and smiling sheepishly at the thought of her. He had done a brief dive of her on F******k after their encounter in the toilet. That was how he knew she was an Architect, one that graduated with first class honors from the prestigious Boulder University.

My world! He thought.

Architectural firms should be on their knees to employ her. How did she manage to be rendered unemployed?

After what was probably half an hour of thinking about that five-five woman, red-haired beauty, Andre went back into the house, strutting purposely towards his bedroom where the landline was.

At the first ring, the voice of the blonde receptionist came in through the receiver. “Good evening, Mr. Lourdes. How may I be of help to you?”

“Were you on duty Wednesday evening?” he inquired.

“Yes, sir.”

“So it was you who checked in a certain Colleen Caddell?”

The woman quickly went through the record list for Wednesday and answered in affirmation. “She is a participant in the Detroit Entrepreneurship Summer Camp,” she added.

“Yes, I know that. What I would like to know is Ms. Caddell’s room number.”