“I love Emily. She and Joseph are my life. Nothing is more important to me,” Asher said quietly. “Nothing.”
“I believe you. Emily does, too. Now prove us right.”
“I suppose I should tell my pilot we’re not going anywhere.”
“He knows,” Grant couldn’t resist adding.
“What did you say?” Asher asked.
“That plans can change at any moment,” Grant added only because revving up Asher more was the last thing he wanted to do. One day, when all of this was a distant memory, he’d tell Asher he wouldn’t have made it off the runway.
Or not. There was sometimes an advantage to being underestimated.
After hanging up, Grant plunked himself down at his desk and rested his head in his hands. There were so many ways this meeting could go wrong. He couldn’t demonize Stiles because it would hurt Helene. On the other hand, keeping the truth from his family had just proven more potentially destructive than telling them.
Stiles had believed Helene and her parents would be in danger if he hadn’t cooperated. He needed to stress that part. Stiles had used that as an excuse again regarding why he’d left Helene in Andrew’s care. It was a weak excuse at best, but it might lessen the conflict for Andrew.
If all of that somehow went well, they would still need to decide how to tell their mother that her sister had hired someone to kill one of her babies. He was at a loss for how to do that.
Grant’s secretary buzzed his office phone. “Whoever it is, Sue, take a message. And clear my schedule for the morning. The only ones I want to see are my family when they arrive.”
“It’s not a phone call, Mr. Barrington. There’s a woman here to see you.”
He raised his head and tried to remember who he’d made appointments to see that day. Nothing. His normally flawless memory failed him. “Tell her I’m sorry, but we’ll have to reschedule. I’m not seeing clients today.”
“She—”
“Not today, Sue.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Sutton, but he isn’t seeing anyone today,” the secretary said with a polite and somewhat apologetic smile. “If you leave contact information I’ll look for an opening in his calendar later this week.”
I should have known he wouldn’t see me, he didn’t even have the balls to answer my phone call. He’s probably in there shaking in his shoes, hoping I’ll go away.
Well, I’m not going anywhere. Not until I say my piece.
“Later is not good enough.”
The secretary’s eyebrows furrowed. “I wish there were something I could do, but he asked me to clear his schedule for today. He doesn’t sound like he’s in a very good mood.”
“And that’s unusual?” Viviana asked sarcastically. He probably treated her like crap.
“It is. I have worked for Mr. Barrington for six years and couldn’t ask for a better employer. He’s fair, he listens, and whenever I’ve needed—”
“I’m not leaving without speaking to him,” Viviana said abruptly. She couldn’t stomach listening to someone sing the praises of him while she was still so angry.
“Maybe if I gave him your name?” the secretary suggested tentatively.
Losing patience, Viviana walked past her desk and opened the door herself. “I’ll tell him myself.”
“Sue, I thought I made myself clear—Viviana!”
At least the bastard still remembers my name. “I wouldn’t be here if you returned phone calls.”
His secretary rushed in on Viviana’s heels. “Mr. Barrington, I’m so sorry. She just—”
“It’s fine, Sue. Close the door on your way out.”
As soon as the door closed behind Viviana, she marched toward him until she reached his desk, then stopped and planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t care how rich you are, it doesn’t give you the right to treat people the way you do. I’m not a piece of trash to be tossed aside when you’re done like I’m nothing. Regardless of how you feel about me, even if all we were ever going to have was a weekend, you didn’t have to end it the way you did.”
“You’re right.”
“Damn straight I’m right. We’re both adults. We had sex. And a lot of it. I wasn’t expecting a relationship out of it, but I didn’t think you’d brush me off as coldly as you did. Or that so much of what you’d told me would turn out to be a lie.”
He rubbed his hands over his face like a man suffering from exhaustion and trying to focus. “I was planning to call you and explain.”
“Really? What were you going to explain? That you’re an arrogant, entitled asshole who doesn’t have the balls to have an adult conversation the next day?”
Grant tented his fingers beneath his chin. One side of his mouth twitched, and she stepped closer. If he smiled she really would belt him. “Something along that vein but worded differently.”
She jabbed his chest with a finger. “You think this is a joke? Maybe that I’m a joke? I’m not. I might have been the best thing to ever happen to you, but you’ll never know that because you’re—”
His kiss took her by surprise and sent her senses haywire. His ability to arouse her even when she was imagining strangling him infuriated her but didn’t make the kiss any less soul-shattering. When he lifted his head, he held her to him in a tight hug. Her body was literally shaking as it attempted to shift from angry to turned on and back to angry. After a few minutes of weakly savoring the feel of his arms around her, the tickle of his breath on her neck, and the rekindling of a heat that no one else had ever lit in her—she pushed herself out of his arms.
He turned his back to her, and she opened her mouth to tell him off again but the slump of his shoulders confused her. He walked over to the window of his office and stared out over the city. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Which part, she wanted to demand but there was something heart-wrenching about seeing the cocky, strong man she’d slept with looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Is it an act?
Why wouldn’t it be? Everything he said was a lie. Maybe this is how a liar of that magnitude looks when he’s confronted.
But it felt like more.
She didn’t want to, but she cared. She walked over to stand beside him. “Are you okay?”
He glanced at her then shook his head in disgust. “You’re too nice. I’ve been a complete ass to you. You have every right to be angry.”
There was something in his tone that pulled at her heart even as she fought against it. “I’m still angry, but that doesn’t mean I would celebrate anything bad happening to you. Compassion is something decent people offer one another. It’s right up there with honesty and respect.”
“Ouch,” he said, turning to look at her. “I’m fine. Just family issues. How are you?”
It was a moment of connection, sincerity. At least it felt like it. “Honestly? Hurt and confused. You could have told me you wanted it to be over. You didn’t have to promise to call or act like you felt something toward me.”
He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his hand over his eyes again. “I do feel something for you, but I have a lot going on in my life right now. Things I’m not ready to tell anyone—least of all someone I just—”
Screwed for a weekend? Viviana sucked in a breath audibly. “Please stop. I have one last question then I’ll go. And if you’re rich why act like you’re not? Why take me to a cheap hotel? Was it some kind of sick game to you? If so, it wasn’t a kind one.”
His expression tightened to one of pain, then he said, “In full disclosure, I found pretending to be poor exciting. It had come to my attention that I was out of touch with regular people. I went jogging by the river that night to meet some. Then I met you. You were just the kind of average, ordinary person I was looking for.”
Average. Ordinary. Fuck you. Anger rose in her again, pushing back both her attraction and her sympathy for him. “There’s a term for that. It’s called slumming.”
“That makes it sound—”
“That’s not what I mean,” he said, taking a step toward her.
“Stop lying. God, have the balls to be honest about what you did. That’s all I want. I picked you out of a crowd because I wanted to sleep with a stranger to make myself feel better. You wanted to taste average. Look me in the eye and just say it.”
“I did. I wanted to see what it would be like, but then—”
She covered her ears. “I don’t want or need the lies.” She lowered her hands. “I’m sorry I barged into your workplace, but I needed answers and now I have them.” With that she turned and strode toward the door.
“Viviana,” he called out.
Before she had time to turn, the door opened and Sue stuck her head in. “Your brother, Lance, is here, Mr. Barrington, along with his wife, Willa. Should I have them wait?”
“No need,” Viviana growled. “We’re done.”
She heard Grant call out after her again, but she bolted through his secretary’s office, past people she didn’t spare a glance at, and to the stairs. The way she felt required immediate escape, no time for an elevator.
Chapter Ten
‡
Grant chased her as far as the outer hallway, but when she chose the stairs rather than chance him catching up with her, he let her go. Had he really wanted to, he could have grabbed her arm before she made it out of his office, but he’d been disgusted with himself when he’d seen their time together through her eyes. Disgusted enough to wonder if she was right.
What kind of man treats a woman the way he treated her?
Standing in the hallway outside his secretary’s office, Grant came close to retching. I should have told her that average was a hell of a lot better than whatever I am.
I should have said something to ease her pain.
She is ordinary in the most extraordinary way. Grounded. Honest. Strong. All the qualities that make what she said about how she could have been the best thing to ever happen to me absolutely true.
I did all of it wrong, but I want a second chance to get it right.
I should have told her that.
Our time together was a game of sorts, but one that woke me up to what my life is missing.
Why didn’t I say that? That’s the truth she should have heard.
Maybe, then, she wouldn’t have left.
He looked over his shoulder at his brother and sister-in-law waiting for him. The ding of the elevator announced its arrival and when the door opened more of his family poured out. He laughed even though he found no humor in the moment. Even if I had found the words to convince her to stay, what would I have done? Invited her to this shitfest?
Don’t close your heart too firmly, Viviana Sutton. As soon as I sort this out, I’m coming for you.
“Who was that?” Lance asked from the doorway.
“Who was who?” Kenzi asked as she joined them with her husband, Dax, at her side.
“I didn’t see anyone,” Dax supplied.
Ian stepped out of another elevator. “Did I miss something? I came over as quick as I could.”
Helene arrived a moment later. “Hi. Is Andrew here yet? He called and said he and Asher were picking up Emily first, but he wouldn’t tell me what this is about.”
Before Grant had a chance to answer Helene, Ian asked, “Did you find out something?”
“My uncle? Did you find my uncle?” Helene’s voice trembled.
Grant took a deep breath and raised his hands. “Let’s all go into the conference room so we can sit and talk. I don’t want to say anything until everyone is here.”
As they followed him into the conference room, Kenzi said, “It can’t be good or you’d have Mom and Dad here.”
“It’s not good, and it’s not rock-solid provable, but it is something you all need to hear and help me decide what to do next with the information.”
There were several long somber moments in which his siblings moved closer to their partners. The air was heavy with dark anticipation.
When Asher, Emily, and Andrew arrived, Grant closed the door and told everyone to sit. To his surprise even Asher took a seat next to Emily, looking more shaken than Grant had ever seen him. If Grant had to guess, Emily had told him what he needed to hear. She didn’t look much happier than he did, but they were holding hands and that was hopefully a good sign.
Grant cleared his throat. “I found Clarence Stiles a week ago. He’s in Trinity, Canada.” For Helene’s benefit, he added, “He’s safe and apologetic.”
Helene nodded and Andrew put his arm around her shoulder. The grateful look he gave Grant had Grant clearing his throat again. “After my trip to Aruba, I expected him to confirm that Kent’s death had been the result of gross negligence which had sparked a deadly cover-up. Unfortunately, the facts he provided me paint a much uglier picture of what happened.”
“What did he say?” Helene asked quietly.
“There are more victims in his version than heroes. I can’t confirm everything he said, but it does correlate well with our aunt’s journal.”
Collectively, the group seemed to hold their breath.
Grant continued, “The way Stiles tells it, Mom’s sister hired someone to kill one of her babies.”
“What does that mean? One of?” Ian demanded.
“Stiles believes Kenzi was the target, but Kent was killed instead. Stiles only became involved after the murder when he was shown photos of Helene and her parents, and he was threatened with their deaths if he didn’t help in the cover-up.”
Kenzi gasped and huddled closer to her husband, who was taking it all in with deadly calm. “Why would anyone want to kill me?”
Grant looked around the room wishing he could spare his family from this. “I have read and reread Patrice’s journal. I believe she was a sociopath who was jealous of the life our mother made for herself. Mom was happy. Patrice wanted to destroy that. She genuinely hated Mom and us by default. It could have been as simple as not wanting Mom to have a girl or twins. I don’t know.”
His family asked all the same questions he’d asked Stiles. They wanted someone to pay for what had happened, but everyone involved was gone. Except Stiles.
It was a painful, enormous elephant in the room.
Helene’s eyes were brimming with tears. Andrew looked like his heart was breaking along with hers.
Kenzi was half scared, half in shock. Dax was coiled like a cobra in the grass.
Lance and Willa were sad and at a loss for what to say.
Ian was processing.
And Asher—his attention was where it belonged, on his wife and how she was handling the news.
Flexing his shoulders, Grant took on the first hurdle his family faced. “I wanted to hate Stiles, but I don’t know what I would do if I thought someone would hurt any of you. I’d like to think I’d make better choices. Everyone wants to be a hero, but sometimes life doesn’t offer that option. The fact is a lot people lost their lives over this. He took money, yes, but would Helene be with us today if he hadn’t? None of us know the answer to that. So, was he wrong? Yes. But can we let God be the one who punishes him? I think we have to or we continue to breathe life into the evil Patrice brought to our family.”
Helene started to cry against Andrew, and Grant waited for his siblings to respond. Asher shared a look with Emily then leaned across the table and offered his hand to Helene.
Helene placed her hand in his. Andrew covered both with his. One by one, wordlessly, each of his siblings and spouses added their hand to the pile. Then Grant added his to the top and said, “This is what matters: family.”
The group slowly relaxed back into their seats and Ian slapped his hand down on the table. “So, what do we tell Mom?”
Viviana didn’t cry on the way back to her apartment. She refused to. For the sake of her baby, she was determined to remember
Grant as a sperm donor. Working for a fertility clinic had introduced her to plenty of women who didn’t think a male presence was a necessary part of a family unit. None of them hated their donors. In fact, they were often grateful there was a system in place that allowed them to be independent mothers. She wasn’t going to remember Grant as an elitist asshole, she would remember him as male, late thirties, tall, brown hair, brown eyes, probably college educated, health history unknown.
She didn’t cry when she called Audrey to tell her that meeting Grant Barrington had been a disappointing experience. Anger and confusion nipped at her, but she shoved both back as she calmly informed Audrey she’d decided not to tell Grant about the baby.
This time Audrey didn’t argue.
She also told her she was moving home earlier than expected. Her job had told her two weeks wasn’t necessary so she wasn’t concerned with that. She did hate leaving Audrey so quickly, but she offered to pay for an extra month’s rent. Audrey wouldn’t hear of it.
“When will you go?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet. I need to talk to my dad before I make any big decisions. Either way, it’s not like I could stay here.”
Always quick-witted, Audrey had joked, “You could, you’d just start paying two thirds of the rent.”
Had Audrey been in the room, Viviana would have hugged her then. Some friendships were fragile and dissolved when schedules or circumstances changed. Audrey had become family. “Unless I have twins.”
“Oh, Lord.” Audrey laughed. “You haven’t been sipping that fertility cocktail have you? Are you having a litter?”
Viviana laughed along, and it felt good. “I’d give you the runt.”
“You would.”
“Yes, I would.”
“I was going to work late tonight, but tell me if you need me.”
“No, I have this. No matter what I decide, I still have to pack.”
“True. Okay. Call me when you know something.”
“I will.”
Viviana wandered from room to room in the apartment, gathering her courage and the right words. She wasn’t a child anymore. It wasn’t like her father could ground her.
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