Jane Harvey-Berrick Saving The Billionaire

by Harvey-Berrick, Jane

  Finally, Maria indicates that she’s ready to head back and we head off in the convoy of SUV’s. I’m in the front of Anderson’s, and Marcel (I think) is driving.

  No lives were lost, no paps in sight. We’re going home tomorrow.

  Thank you!

  Chapter 27

  Backdraft

  GRAY SKY. CHECK.

  Rain on the window. Check.

  New York in the fall. Check.

  Hot woman in my bed. Checkmate.

  I’d really like to stay here and watch Rachel nap after our strenuous afternoon that turned into evening, but my stomach is rumbling loud enough to wake the dead, and then my cell phone rings—it’s Lilly.

  I called her the moment we touched down on US soil, but her phone was off so I left a message.

  “Daddy! You’re back!”

  “Hey, Princess! How’s my number one girl?”

  There’s a long pause.

  “Am I your number one girl, Daddy?”

  “Of course you are, pumpkin. Why would that change?”

  “Mommy says you’re marrying Rachel.”

  Carla and her fucking loose lips!

  “Well, that’s right, sweetheart, I am.”

  “So, she’ll be your number one girl,” Lilly says sadly.

  “No way, honey. You’ll always be my number one gal. Rachel is my…” I hunt for the right words. “Rachel is my number one woman.”

  “She’s not my mom.”

  “I know that, baby. You have a mommy,” even if she’s on my least-popular-person-this-lifetime list. “Rachel will be … like an auntie.”

  I can hear sniffing on the line, then Carla’s strident vocals pollute the air.

  “Well done, Justin. You’ve been back thirty seconds and you’ve already made my daughter cry.”

  “Our daughter, Carla, and what the fuck were you doing telling her I’m marrying Rachel?”

  “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

  “I was going to tell her in person. I told you that before I went away! Were you trying to fuck it up for me?”

  “Don’t put this on me, Justin, and stop swearing—you know I hate that.”

  Is she serious?

  “I’m coming over.”

  “What? No. It’s too late. It’s after seven now. By the time you get here she’ll be in bed.”

  “Then I’ll come tomorrow.”

  “We have plans.”

  Rachel rubs my back and I take a deep breath, calming my voice.

  “Carla, she’s upset. I should have told her everything before I went away so you didn’t have to. I fucked up, I know that, but you shouldn’t have told her either.”

  She’s silent.

  “Let me come over tomorrow. Let me fix this with Lilly.”

  “Fine.”

  And then she hangs up.

  Rachel strokes my shoulder soothingly.

  I need to spend some time with my daughter.

  It’s late when the Andersons get home, but I’m not surprised that the boss goes to his office before turning in. I drag on sweats and a t-shirt and go to speak with him.

  He’s surprisingly okay about me asking for a day off to see Lilly. Maybe it’s a new found appreciation for family life—or the fact that he’s virtually comatose from a wide variety of Maria-tal bliss.

  “Take the time you need, Trainer.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He nods and turns back to his computer. When he sees I’m still standing in front of him, he frowns.

  “And?”

  “And Rachel … Ms. Smith … I’ve asked her to marry me.”

  He looks bemused.

  “And?”

  “She said yes.”

  There’s a long, pregnant pause.

  “I hope that doesn’t mean she’s thinking about resigning?”

  “No, sir. Not unless you…”

  “Not at all. Mrs. Sm— Ms. Smith is a valued employee. I hope she will continue in her present position. And Mrs. Anderson likes her.”

  That’s a relief. I thought he’d be cool about it, but the boss is predictably unpredictable.

  “Congratulations, Trainer. I’m happy for you. Both of you. When do you plan on getting married?”

  “We haven’t discussed that. In the winter?”

  He nods.

  “Fine. When you’ve decided what you want to do for your honeymoon, take the jet.”

  What the fuck? ‘Take the jet’?!

  I manage to stammer out a thank you. Damn it, that guy pisses me the fuck off! When did he start being so nice?

  I’M PLANNING to arrive at my ex’s house early in case she changes her mind and decides to take Lilly out for the day.

  I wake up before dawn and slip out of bed quietly so I don’t wake Rachel. I should probably be doing some romantic shit like leaving a note on the pillow or a rose; I don’t know, maybe a bar of candy. Nah, it would probably be weird if I left a pack of Oreos—no one likes crumbs in the bed.

  I’m not good with this parenting shit. It’s hard to know the right things to say. I’m not a part of Lilly’s everyday life, even though I call every day if I can, and text two or three times a day. It’s not the same thing. How can it be? A few minutes Facetime doesn’t compensate for not being there. And Carla lets me know it every time we communicate. I have so much guilt, the Pope wants to friend me on Facebook.

  When I get there shortly before 8AM, I see a strange car parked in the driveway. It’s probably Steeeeve’s, but seeing it there sends a jolt through me. I don’t care that he’s with my ex— he’s welcome to her, but jealousy burns through me at the thought of him spending time with Lilly.

  I knock on the door and wait. I can hear a flurry of voices—it doesn’t sound like anyone is pleased to see me.

  But then Steeeeve opens the door. Gotta hand it to the guy, he has more balls than I gave him credit for. He’s wearing pajamas, a robe and a thin smile that’s half hidden by long wispy hair. But he holds out his hand, his eyes widening slightly as I shake it.

  “Steve.”

  “Justin, this is a surprise.”

  “Is it? I told Carla last night that I’d be over for Lilly, but no worries. I hope I’m not too early.”

  I don’t give two shits whether I’m early or not, but I promised Rachel that I’d play nice.

  “Uh, no, not at all. Lilly is eating breakfast. Would you like to come in for a coffee while you wait?

  “Thanks, Steve.”

  I walk into the kitchen, my stomach clenching at the sight of domestic bliss. It looks so homey, even if Carla is glaring at me.

  “Daddy!”

  Lilly bounces out of her seat, spilling milk over the table as she skips toward me. I pick her up, hugging her tightly.

  “Surprise,” I whisper laugh.

  She giggles, then demands to be put down, a scowl on her little face.

  “I’m not talking to you,” she pouts, marching back to her chair and plopping herself down with her arms crossed.

  “Why’s that, Princess?”

  I know, of course, but I need to let Lilly tell me herself.

  She turns her head away, refusing to answer.

  “I think I’ll take that coffee now, Steve,” I say.

  Carla’s head whips around, her glare transferred to Steve who seems to wilt under her hostile gaze. I know what that’s like, dude. I consider offering the use of my body armor. But don’t.

  I sip my coffee, talking to Steve about the football season so far. Turns out he’s from Spokane Valley which is only ninety miles from where I grew up. He’s a Redskins fan. A lot of the kids at school used to follow them, since Idaho doesn’t have an NFL team.

  Not that he knows much about football, but we toss around a few topics before we find some common ground. He’s trying, and I appreciate that. It must be weird for him, too.

  I have a lot of memories in this kitchen. I installed the cabinets and the dish washer; I laid the wooden floor and went with Carla when she
picked out curtains. Fuckin’ boring day that was.

  But I also remember Carla nursing Lilly in the chair that she’s sitting in this morning, both of us dizzy with tiredness after being woken for the fourth or fifth time during the night.

  Now another man is sitting at the table and taking my place as Lilly’s dad. But he seems like a good guy, so I just have to suck it up and be grateful. Gotta say, it stings like a motherfucker.

  Lilly is still pretending to ignore me, but like her mom, she loves to be the center of attention, so it’s not long before she’s squirming in her seat.

  Eventually, I run out of small talk. It doesn’t take long. Steve glances at Carla who hasn’t said a word to me yet.

  “So, I hear congratulations are in order,” he says with a wary smile, glancing at Lilly.

  I can’t help grinning.

  “Thanks, man. I thought I’d take Lilly to buy her official flower-girl dress today, but…”

  Lilly squeals so loudly, I wince.

  She throws herself into my lap, still shrieking at full volume.

  Steve chuckles at the expression on my face, and even Carla cracks something that might be called a smile.

  “So, um, I need some help here,” I admit sheepishly. “Any suggestions for where a princess could buy a flower-girl’s outfit?”

  Carla gives an evil laugh.

  “You’re taking Lilly shopping for dresses?”

  “Uh, one dress,” I say nervously.

  “You’ll have so much fun,” she smirks. “I have lots of suggestions—Lilly loves shopping. I’ll make a list of dress shops, shoe shops and somewhere for accessories.”

  I am in so much trouble. I give her a wide grin.

  “Can’t wait.”

  While Lilly races to get ready, Carla gives me a list of six weddingy dress shops and three kids’ shoe shops in Bridgeport. Holy shit, that’s a lot of shopping. Good thing I joined the Marines—I’m trained to survive in all environments. Plus, I know somewhere we can have pizza. I’ll need the energy.

  Steve stands up and shuffles off, muttering something about putting on his pants. But it leaves me alone with Carla.

  Immediately, she attacks.

  “You can’t just turn up here whenever it suits you.”

  I want to lobby that back, but I don’t.

  “That’s not what I want either,” I say evenly, “but Lilly was upset last night—upset with me. So I need to be here to fix it.”

  “We agreed on scheduled visits.”

  “Yeah, we did, and I’ll do my best to keep to that, but it doesn’t always work, you know that. You also knew that I wanted to be the one to tell Lilly about marrying Rachel.”

  Her cheeks redden.

  “Lilly asked me a direct question! I couldn’t lie to her.”

  I sigh.

  “That’s fair enough, but you could have given me the heads up.”

  “You were in Europe!”

  “Yeah, and emails, texts and phone calls still work over there. Who knew?”

  “Don’t be sarcastic!”

  “Then don’t make excuses, Carla,” I say, my carefully controlled temper starting to crack. “If you had to tell Lilly that I was getting married, I’ll understand that. I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

  There’s a long silence as she continues to glare.

  “Are you going to marry Steve?” I ask when it becomes clear that an apology isn’t on the horizon.

  “That’s none of your business,” she snaps.

  “It matters to Lilly, so it matters to me,” I say reasonably. “He seems like a nice guy.”

  “He is.”

  I finish drinking my coffee while Carla stabs at a piece of toast with the butter knife.

  “We’re talking about it,” she says, looking up. “Marriage.”

  I watch her face, feeling the finality of her words. We were together a long time, me and Carla. We should never have gotten married, but a lot of guys wanted a ring on their girl’s finger before deployment. It seemed like the smart thing to do at the time. But now, looking at Carla, that’s all gone. We weren’t great together, but we did one good thing.

  “I hope it works out for you.”

  She blinks, surprised.

  “Lilly means the world to me,” I say quietly.

  “I know she does.”

  We stare at each other, exchanging more with that one look than we ever did with words. It’s an ending, but maybe it can be a beginning, too.

  Then Lilly comes racing down the stairs, talking so fast she trips over her words, and I smile at her excitement.

  I’m going dress shopping with my eight year-old daughter. It’s going to be sheer hell. I can’t wait.

  “STEVE SEEMS LIKE a nice guy,” I offer cautiously while I eat a late lunch with Lilly.

  It kind of sucks to admit that twice in one day, but if it completes the mission…

  We’re surrounded by bags, and we’ve got a lot more than a flower-girl’s dress and shoes. I’ve survived four hours of being dragged all over town and endured being stared at like a pervert while I waited outside the ladies changing rooms.

  In one store, there was a tense stand-off between me and the woman assistant who refused to let me in to help Lilly even though my daughter was yelling for me to go zip her up. Eventually, a mom who was with her kid went to help Lilly, but it pissed me the hell off. Being a dad is hard enough without this shit.

  Lilly shrugs. “Steve’s okay.”

  “Rachel is real happy that you’re going to be our flower-girl.”

  Lilly shrugs again.

  I clear my throat nervously. I really want this conversation to go well.

  “Rachel says you guys can do some more baking next time you visit…”

  “Okay.”

  Then she looks up sadly.

  “I wish you and Mommy were getting married. I don’t like being divorced.”

  She’s killing me, literally stomping on my heart.

  She stares down at her pizza, frowning.

  “Mommy says she loves you like a friend, but she loves Steve like a boyfriend.”

  I half smile, half cringe at Carla’s lie. Although since I met Rachel I don’t hate Carla quite as much as I used to. Not sure I’d ever describe her as a friend, but if helps Lilly…

  “Mom’s right. She and I … yeah, we’re friends. And we both love you very much. You know that, right? You’re the important one.”

  She looks away.

  “But you’re marrying Rachel. So I won’t be important. My friend Mandy, her dad married someone else and now he’s got a new baby and he never sees her anymore.” Her lip trembles. “You’ll forget about me.”

  I put my arm around her and hug her tightly.

  “I could never forget about you! You’re my baby, my Princess. Lilly, you’ll always be important to me. I promise.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “Cross your heart and hope to die?”

  Solemnly, I cross myself.

  “Cross my heart and hope to die, I will never forget you. You will always be important to me, Lilly. Always.”

  She gives a watery smile.

  “Okay.”

  “I love you, Princess.”

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  AFTER THAT, THE week goes downhill rapidly.

  The boss is in a meeting with Pam, and I’m reading through some new employee records when a sharp, high-pitched wail fills the building.

  “Fire alarm! Evac protocols—everyone out. No personal possessions. Do not use the elevator!”

  I’m shouting these commands over my shoulder even as I bring up the fire alarm schemata on my phone. Smoke in the server room: it’s the real thing.

  Ryan swings into action, pulling Tessa up by her hand and dragging her to the fire escape.

  I know that the alarm is linked to the New York City Fire Department, so the fire trucks will be on their way.

  The boss
has his laptop under one arm, breaking all the rules, but pushing Pam in front of him.

  “Trainer, report!”

  “We got fire in the server room, sir. Building evac protocol.”

  He nods, his face grim.

  As we start to descend the thirty floors, at each exit, there’s a security officer making sure that his or her floor is vacated. Rest rooms are checked, supply rooms are checked—no man or woman is left behind. We’ve practiced this: now it’s the real thing.

  On the stairs below, we hear screaming.

  The boss’s voice booms out.

  “Keep calm, walk, don’t run.”

  His voice has a slightly calming effect, but the panic is bubbling under—it won’t take much to cause a stampede down the concrete stairs.

  He spots Maria, waiting for him on the fifteenth floor and he doesn’t know whether to kiss her or cane her for not following protocol and getting the hell out.

  “Devon! Thank God!”

  He pulls her into his arms, then hurries her down the stairs.

  I know that standard building regulations enforce a thirty minute rule: all fire doors and walls have to hold for thirty minutes; we evacuate the entire building in seventeen. I want to shave four minutes off that time.

  The fire trucks have already arrived, and officers are sprinting up the stairs to do another sweep of each floor.

  I’m relieved when everyone is outside and my security officers are checking the names for their floors. Everyone is accounted for. Thank fuck. Only one injury: a sprained ankle that’s being checked out by paramedics.

  I pass the information to the Fire Captain and he nods then goes to talk to the boss. Howard is making his way through the crowd toward us.

  “Anyone injured? Damage?” Anderson barks.

  “One sprained ankle, sir. All personnel accounted for. The fire was in the server room.”

  The boss sees Howard.

  “Likely damage?”

  “Too early to say, boss, but the Halon was effective: suppressed the fire in under twenty seconds. Damage, probably minimal, but I’ll need to do some checks first. I think at least two servers and a shit load of cable got nuked. The ambient oxygen level dropped so quickly, it stopped the fire from spreading.”