“So, as you will see by the copies of the report from the analyst, these pictures do not appear to have been altered. Given the data that we have gone through from your staff records here, we believe the woman in question was Jenna Emerson. I’ve engaged an investigator to follow that trail with a request for privacy and urgency.”
“I remember Jenna,” Nancy said. “She was a sweet young woman. She worked in the general secretarial pool and stood in for Stella, Douglas’s PA, while Stella took an extended leave of absence when her father was ill. So he had an affair with her, too?”
“We don’t know that for certain yet, Mom,” Kristin hurried to assure her mother, who sounded shell-shocked.
“That’s right, Nancy. We have not been able to substantiate any of this person’s claims to date. Which leads me to the latest development.”
He quickly explained the DNA report he’d received in the post.
“We would require testing of all of you for comparative purposes.”
Keaton shook his head.
“We went through all that this time last year when Logan arrived. Surely the data from that will be sufficient.”
“It’s interesting you mention that,” Jack said. “Because the claimant seemed to know it also. They said that their independent report should be compared to the data collected from all of you last year.”
“But how would they know about it?” Logan asked, incredulous.
“Perhaps Douglas was still involved with Jenna at that time,” Nancy said faintly. “Nothing would surprise me anymore. Until Douglas’s funeral, we had no idea about Eleanor, so it’s entirely possible he kept Jenna on a string, too. He might have said something to her about Logan’s return to the family.”
“Mom, we all know that if Dad really was this person’s father, he would have made greater financial accommodation for them and their mom. He might have been a bastard but he was a fair bastard when it came to providing for his kids. That hundred thousand dollars looks more like a payoff, to me. Not support,” Keaton said.
“But how can we be sure he didn’t?” Nancy said, her voice sounding utterly weary of it all.
“There has to be something. Some financial record somewhere,” Lisa said on screen.
“What date did this Jenna woman leave your employment?” Fletcher asked. “We can get a search done of the company accounting here for around that period and see if there are any discrepancies. Who knows what Dad was able to hide before the accounting systems became tighter? There are print and digital records of that period. I’ll put one of our best accountants on it.”
“Thank you, Fletcher,” Logan said, “And Kristin, will you do the same here?”
“You bet I will,” Kristin said with determination.
Jackson thanked everyone for their cooperation and drew the meeting to a close. The TV screen went blank, and everyone began to file out of the room. Jackson moved to cut Kristin off from leaving the room straight away.
“A word with you, if you don’t mind?” he queried lightly.
He felt the huff of frustration she uttered, but she nodded and stepped away from him, crossing her arms and staring at him with a challenge clear in her eyes.
“What is it? I have work to do, and I believe we’re under some urgency after today’s discussion.”
“We are, but this is important, too. I need to talk to you about last Thursday night.”
“I thought we agreed there was nothing to talk about,” she said with those arms still firmly crossed and her eyes alight with a burning fire.
“We both know that’s not true. Kissing you like that was...”
“What? Wrong? Yes, it was. It was very wrong, and we’ve agreed that nothing will come from it. I have reservations about trusting you, and you clearly don’t want to make another commitment. I’m good with that. Now, can I get to work, or do you want to rehash this some more?”
She was hurting. He could see it in every line of her body language and in the tone of her voice.
“I’m sorry, Kristin. For the past, for the present, for everything.”
“Yeah, I believe you’ve said something along those lines before. Look, we have a past. I think we’re ready to move on. So, can we shelve all this postmortem rubbish over what was simply an impulse and leave it there?”
A spark of irritation burned deep in his mind. That impulse had led to a kiss that continued to haunt him—awake or asleep. And despite everything, he wanted more. But she was making it fervently clear that was not going to happen. She had been completely correct in her statement that he wasn’t open to another commitment. But was he completely averse to a dalliance? A simple outlet of physical and emotional frustration? Could they consider exploring that without the complication of putting a label on what they did and who they were while they were doing it?
Before he could overthink it, he started to speak. “It was more than an impulse, Kristin. I think we both know it. And I think we still have something going between us. What we do with it is up to us. The way I see it, we have two options. One, we continue to try to ignore this awareness between us or, two, we act on it. We don’t need to have any strings attached, but maybe we owe it to ourselves to give in, even just once, and get this out of the way once and for all.”
Stunned surprise froze her features, and he could see her mentally processing his words. Her pupils had dilated slightly, and her breathing quickened. The pulse, visible at the base of her slender throat, beat more rapidly.
“You’re suggesting a fling?”
“How about friends with benefits?”
“We are not friends.”
“But we could be. After all, we know each other well enough, and last Thursday night’s kiss proved we are still fiercely compatible.”
She looked as if she wanted to argue with him on that point for just a moment, but then her arms dropped to her sides.
“Let me think about it,” she said stiffly.
He let go of the breath he’d been holding, surprised and satisfied she hadn’t rejected his suggestion out of hand.
“I still don’t fully trust you,” she said obstinately.
“And you don’t have to,” he replied gently. “But maybe we can work on the trust issue while we explore our...friendship.”
“I’ll get back to you on that,” she said.
With that, she abruptly turned and left the meeting room. Jackson began to gather his papers up from the table and realized his hands were shaking slightly. Anticipation for what might come? he wondered. Or fear that she would turn him down? He hoped it was the former and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they needed to do this. They needed, more than anything, to lay to rest the ghosts of the past.
And his love for Annie, his promises to her? They would still be safely under lock and key in his heart. This thing with Kristin, if it went ahead, would be purely physical. He could deal with that. It was the emotional commitment he refused to accept.
Because, when it came to emotions, he was all wrung out. And he suspected Kristin was, too. But what was friendship, if not an emotional commitment? Had he just made the second biggest mistake of his life?
Twelve
Kristin paced the floor of her apartment. Tonight she was expected at her mom’s for a Christmas Eve get together. She knew that Nancy had asked Jackson to join them and that he’d accepted. She really didn’t know how she felt about that. But then again, nothing in life was as it had been. It was just over a year since her father had died, and their entire world had turned upside down and inside out. And it didn’t look as if things were going to get better anytime soon.
On the bright side, if it could be called that, both Fletcher’s accounting team and her own had found evidence of two payments of fifty thousand dollars each to an unknown creditor just over twenty-five years ago. Further investigation had revealed the recipient
to be Jenna Emerson. The dates tied in with the time she left Richmond Developments and were near enough to the age of Douglas’s supposed love child. How the accounting teams at both Richmond Developments and Richmond Construction had never questioned the payments at the time bore serious scrutiny. Kristin had authorized a historical audit to make sure there were no other skeletons about to come out of her fiscal closet. The one security she had now was that the systems she had in place at Richmond Developments allowed no bogus invoices to make it through.
But the trail back to Jenna Emerson made it begin to look more and more as if the person had a legitimate claim—which raised the question, why, if their claim was legitimate, had they used such underhanded means to stake it? She only hoped that the results of the DNA comparisons would give them the truth, once and for all.
On her coffee table, Kristin’s phone buzzed to alert her to an incoming message. She snatched up her phone and tapped the screen. It was from Jackson.
Need a ride to your mom’s tonight?
She chewed her lower lip before answering. She hadn’t given him a response yet regarding the preposterous suggestion he’d made last Monday, but it had never been far from her mind. She’d almost hoped he’d tell her he’d changed his mind, but he’d kept radio silence since that discussion in the meeting room.
Kristin didn’t want to examine too closely how his suggestion had made her feel. The moment the words had passed his lips her entire body had begun to heat and her heart rate increase in anticipation of what might happen next.
What this it? Was this what happened next? She’d accept his offer of a ride, they’d make nice and polite at her mom’s Christmas Eve gathering, and then they’d race to his place, or hers, for crazy monkey sex and hope to get it out of their systems?
A swell of desire poured through her, heating her body anew and making her body tense with anticipation. And there, she admitted, was her answer. She desired him. No matter how much she distrusted him in personal matters, he’d been faultless in his handling of the love child issue so far. And worse, she had never quite lost that physical recognition every time they were in the same room. There really was only one answer she could give him, but she thought it might be fun to let him sweat it a little longer. For now, she’d accept his offer of a ride. What happened next, well, she’d play that by ear.
Yes, please. I’ll be downstairs at seven, she replied.
I’ll be there, came the immediate response.
Suddenly it became more important than ever that she look her best tonight. She had about half an hour before he’d be here. Kristin strode to her bedroom and opened her lingerie drawer, her hand settling on a bright red lace and satin bodysuit that she’d bought on a whim and yet never worn. It was the kind of sexy bit of something someone wore purely to titillate.
She lifted it from the drawer and imagined Jackson’s face when he saw it. Whoa, there! She cautioned herself. When? Maybe it should be if. Either way, her body hummed with anticipation at the thought. She quickly shucked off the eminently sensible black trousers she was wearing, together with the high-necked ruby-red cashmere sweater she’d teamed with it, and slipped off her bra and panties. Taking a deep breath she donned the bodysuit, the hook-and-eye fasteners giving her a bit of trouble at first, but she conquered them and slowly turned and looked at herself in her full-length mirror.
She studied her reflection with a critical eye, turning this way and that before nodding at herself in the mirror. It would do. The garment hugged the curves of her bottom perfectly. And the satin back was silky soft to the touch. She shivered a little and not because it was cold. Feeling brave, she slipped on a pair of black stiletto pumps and posed, thrusting one hip out, hands on her hips. Yeah, she looked bad-ass. Better yet, she felt it, too.
Without immediately putting her other clothes back on, Kristin went to her bathroom. She added to the makeup she’d already done for this evening, making her eyes look smokier and applying a couple of extra layers of mascara for good measure. Then, she slicked on the red lipstick that she’d noticed caught Jackson’s attention. She smiled at her reflection, satisfied with the end result. She redressed in the pants and sweater and put on a black leather jacket to complete her ensemble.
If she went through with this, she would knock Jackson’s socks off. She made a sound of disgust. Who was she kidding? From the minute he’d suggested his ridiculous friends-with-benefits proposal, she’d been interested. Thinking about it had tormented her ever since. It was easier to outright hate him. But then he’d kissed her and awakened all sorts of feelings she’d thought were tucked away forever.
Feelings she didn’t want to put under a microscope.
Maybe he was right. Maybe they could do this strictly physically and it would resolve both her still-simmering anger toward him and their attraction to each other. It would save a lot of stress and heartache, that was for sure.
Kristin looked at her watch. It was almost time for Jack to collect her. She went downstairs and looked out the foyer doors just as he pulled up in the pick-up zone. Perfect timing. But then again, timing had never been his problem.
She wondered what his wife had been like. What kind of woman had been capable of capturing and holding Jackson Jones? And with that thought, Kristin realized where a whole lot of her old hurts had sprung from. She hadn’t been able to hold on to him. In fact, when the chips were down, he hadn’t even told her what the problem was. He’d simply left. For all these years, she’d blamed herself for that and been mad as hell at him for letting her down. So, what could she have done differently? Anything? Nothing? She made a sound of disgust and walked toward his waiting car, determined to once again leave the past where it belonged. Buried. Not to be brought out and chewed over. Not to be used as a mirror for her failings.
“Bad day?” Jackson asked as she settled herself in the passenger seat.
“No, why?”
“You look angry.”
She shook her head. “Just letting some things get on top of me. That’s all. It’s a tough time of year, what with the anniversary of Dad’s death and everything,” she said, not entirely untruthfully.
“Anything I can help you with?”
“Maybe later,” she said with a small smile. “I’ll let you know.”
“I’m here if you need me,” he said as he headed for the interstate that would take them to Nancy’s home.
She fought back the urge to snort at his comment. There if she needed him? At the time she’d most needed him, as they were about to graduate together and begin a future together, he’d disappeared. But she needed to move on. To accept that she wasn’t the same person she was back then, and neither, most likely, was he. They’d both grown and changed in the intervening years, and banging that old drum would just keep her locked firmly in the past. She didn’t want to be that person anymore.
Her reluctance to trust anyone after Jack had led to her making poor choices with relationships. And her distrust had seen most men walk away in the end. With the exception of Isaac, of course, who’d been led away in handcuffs. She’d thought she knew him through working with him so closely. She’d truly thought he had her back and was someone she could look forward to a future with and instead, he’d been holding a knife to her back the whole time. Faking his affection for her while he fed sensitive financial information to their main competitor. Discovering his deceit so soon after the shock of her father’s duplicity had made her doubt her ability to read anyone properly. It was easier not to get involved. Period. But if she’d had the chance to understand why Jackson had left her in the first place, would that have changed anything? She wanted to think so.
“You still have that angry look on your face. Are you sure you’re okay?” Jackson asked, interrupting her reverie.
She gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, yeah, I’m fine. I’m looking forward to a break from work, although I know it’ll ke
ep worrying at the back of my mind.”
“It’s not easy to switch off, especially when your job is such an integral part of who you are.”
She looked at him in surprise. Many of the men she’d associated with didn’t see her career as being as important a part of her life as their jobs were to them. It was a patriarchal and outdated viewpoint, and she’d found it easier to simply ignore them and carry on doing what she did best.
“And is your work an integral part of who you are, now?” she asked, suddenly curious to learn more about him.
“Definitely, but I’ve had to train myself not to bring my work home. And, you might laugh, but I’ve found meditation useful as a tool to switch between work mode and home mode.”
“You? Meditation?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I know. Back in the day I was too busy rushing from one thing to the next to even consider something like that, but it gives your mind peace and allows separation. If anything, it gives me perspective on things.”
“I need some of that.”
For the rest of their journey, they discussed the techniques he used. It was only as they turned into the gate at Nancy’s house that it occurred to Kristin to ask him what had made him turn to meditation in the first place.
“I guess it was a turning point in my career as a litigator. I was bringing work home every day and was struggling with a challenging case. Annie had obviously reached the end of her tether with me and my foul moods and insisted I try meditation before I developed an ulcer or had a heart attack from stress. She coached me for the first week or so, and after that it came naturally to me.”
“She sounds like she was a strong woman to take you on in a bad mood.”
Jackson cocked a brow and shot her a cheeky look. “Are you saying I’m not nice in a temper?”
She laughed. “I don’t know anyone who is. If I remember correctly, when you were in a temper, everyone but your most staunch professor managed to make themselves unavailable.”
He uttered a cynical laugh. “Yeah, that’s true. I didn’t like myself much when I was like that. I had a lot of repressed anger around my upbringing.”
What Happens at Christmas… Page 11