On tiptoe, she brushed her mouth against his jawline. To the outside, it looked like a kiss, but she allowed her lips to graze his ear instead. “All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll end the engagement so we can escape. I mean it, Jake. Don’t feel like you have to suffer through anything for my sake. I’ll be okay. I always am.”
As he pulled away, his gaze fell on her, soft and warm. His touch was even more so as he tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re not okay, Becca. But you will be.”
Was that an...insult? It felt like one and it sounded like one, but the way Jake straightened his tie and stared at her—as if he might be about to drop an affectionate kiss on her forehead—made her think it might have been the exact opposite.
She opened her mouth to disagree, to tell him that of course she was okay, that no one had mastered the art of survival quite like she had, but he silenced her with a disarming smile. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll head up to the nursery with you.”
Amy laughed outright. “That’s the biggest surprise yet. I never thought I’d see the day you willingly crossed that threshold again.”
“If Becca can handle them, so can I,” he said primly, and led them all inside.
* * *
“If you aren’t going to have tea with us, you can at least make yourself useful and get some cookies.” Becca glanced up from the tiny pink-and-white table set in the middle of the nursery and held up a plastic piece of cake. “These ones are so realistic it’s almost cruel.”
“Sorry, Becca.” Amy looked an apology at her. “I can’t send Jake to the kitchen for cookies. Your sister would kill me. Too much refined sugar isn’t good for tiny palates.”
Becca flipped her pinky up and poured Lily and Evan some more tea, which was really just water in a decorative silver pot. As usual, Jake’s half brother and half sister were a mystery to him, and he was grateful Becca seemed to have an idea of how to get along with them. He knew the tiny pair was related to him, and he knew they had brains that functioned on a level equal to that of their peers, but that was all he could say about them with any certainty.
They always seemed happy to see him, though, which was nice. The only other person who managed that kind of regular enthusiasm in his presence was Becca. He should probably take more pains to foster relationships of such unequivocal adoration.
“Serena may be anti-cookie now, but you should have seen how much crap she used to sneak me when we were kids.”
“Really?” Amy’s eyes widened in obvious interest. “Do tell. The only way to get any sugar in this house is to smuggle it in from the outside. I’ve had serious discussions with Philip’s yard crew about growing our own cane.”
Becca laughed and sat back in her tiny chair, perilously close to tipping it over. Jake made a motion to rush forward and catch her, but she righted herself at the last minute. He felt more relieved than foolish until Amy saw him and raised a mocking brow. Damn. He was likely to hear about that later.
“It was because Serena, Alice and Winnie are all much older than me,” Becca confided as if nothing had happened. “By the time I was seven, they were comfortably in their teens and had access to a treasure trove of ill-gotten goods. God, I was so spoiled. They’d give me pretty much anything I wanted. Candy. Nail polish. A sip of champagne when no one was looking. Serena was the worst. She used to keep boxes of Twinkies under her bed.”
“I don’t believe you,” Amy said adamantly. “I think I mentioned Twinkies once in her range of hearing, and she acted like I was talking about flying monkeys.”
“You didn’t hear this from me, but when she used to get really bad PMS, she’d dip them in mayonnaise.” Becca lifted a finger and crossed it over her chest when Amy let out an outraged shout. “On my honor. To this day, I’m pretty sure it was one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever seen.”
“If you give Evan any more of that water, you’ll soon get sight of something else disgusting,” Amy said. “I don’t recommend it.”
Jake grimaced as he watched the women interact. He had no idea how his cousin spent eight hours of every day with these children and their bodily functions, but she seemed to like it. He could maybe see the appeal if they were your own, but Amy couldn’t even give them sugar if she felt like it. Theirs was a world of restrictions within restrictions—just one of many reasons he found life here so stifling.
Amy clapped her hands, a nanny to the core. “Come on, you two. It’s time to get ready for bed.”
“Oh, let me do it,” Becca said. “You and Jake should take some time to catch up. I can manage pajamas and potty breaks on my own.”
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I love kids when I only have to see them for an hour and then tuck them in.” She leaned down and gave each of the twins’ golden-red curls a kiss. “What do you say, Evan and Lily? Can Auntie Becca read your bedtime story tonight?”
The ear-piercing shrieks the pair emitted were all the assent any of them needed. With a cheerful wave and a promise to help the twins with the teeth-brushing portion of events, Becca ushered them out the door and into the hallway, the door clicking firmly shut behind them.
“Oh. My. God.” Amy turned on him before he had enough time to do so much as blink. “I love her. I love her so much I want to clone her and keep one version in a closet in case you mess this up.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He tilted his head in the direction of the stairwell, hoping to take this conversation somewhere Becca might not overhear. Amy wasn’t likely to temper her questions or her volume level for the sake of tact. Her straightforwardness had always been both the best and the worst thing about her. “But one is more than enough.”
“One is never enough. I often wish I had two Ryans. One could do helpful things around the apartment, leaving the other free to—”
“Spare me the details Amy, I beg you. It’s weird enough being related to you as it is.” He waited until her laughter stopped before continuing. “I was sure you’d met Becca before, though.”
“Oh, I’ve seen her once or twice, but I didn’t pay attention. That was before I knew you were in lurrrrve.”
“How old are you?”
“Lurrrrve. I swear to you, Jake—when we saw the paper announcing your engagement after only a few weeks in the city, I was ninety-nine percent sure you were off somewhere plotting the reporter’s demise. I had no idea it might actually be true.”
They kept walking, moving through the familiar hallways where he and Monty and Jenna and Amy had been raised by Amy’s mom, the family nanny from his youth. When he didn’t say anything right away, Amy yanked on his arm, forcing him to stop next to her.
“It is true, right? Please tell me it’s true.”
“Of course it’s true. I proposed. She accepted. That’s how these things usually work.”
“That’s not a very romantic way to put it.” Amy narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “But I saw you two at dinner. And just now, in the nursery—you were totally going to catch her chair. Not even you can fake that kind of devotion.”
“Goddammit. What has Monty been telling you?”
Amy made an exaggerated show of examining the wall behind Jake’s head. “Oh, you know Monty. No one listens to him.”
“Amy—what did he tell you?”
“He didn’t tell me anything. But he might have mentioned to your dad that the two of you made a small wager recently.”
“He’s wrong,” Jake said quickly, shutting Amy down before she could say more. “Well, not about the wager, but about the lengths I’m willing to go to win. Whatever he’s told you about me and Becca is wrong.”
“It is awfully sudden...”
“I’ve known Becca for years. A lot longer than you’ve known Ryan.”
“And there’s no denying she has a lot
of money, which is something you always seem to find in short supply.” Amy bit her lip worriedly. “When Monty told me how much each of the Clare sisters has—”
“Don’t you dare.” He felt himself bristling. Of all the people he thought he could bristle against, his cousin and one of his closest friends had never figured on the list. Yet here he was, fur flying, teeth bared for attack. “What Becca and I have isn’t about money.”
“Okay.” Amy nodded once. “I believe you.”
“I’m fully capable of supporting myself. That bet was made more to annoy Monty than anything else.”
“I said I believe you.”
“There’s no reason why I couldn’t march up those stairs to my dad’s office right now and get my accounts unfrozen.”
“If that’s what you want, that’s exactly what you should do.”
He shook his head and released a begrudging laugh. There were plenty of people on this planet he could intimidate and fool, but this woman he’d grown up with wasn’t one of them. Becca and Amy had a lot in common that way.
“That is what I’m going to do,” he said, “so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread any more rumors about the bet with Monty. It was a game, nothing more. I mean to do right by Becca, even if that means swallowing my pride and admitting defeat.”
Amy let loose a low whistle. “How’s that pride taste, cuz? I imagine that’s the first time it’s ever crossed your lips.”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend to go annoy or something?”
“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “He had to move all sorts of tasks around to haul your sorry ass out here today, so I’ve got a good hour to kill before it’s time to go home. And I intend to kill it with nosy questions about your lady love.”
“Ask away,” Jake said, resigned. “But don’t be surprised if I refuse to answer.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jake had always felt that entering his father’s office was akin to being summoned to his death. When he was a kid, he’d done everything he could to render the room powerless. He’d once filled the decanter of brandy on the sideboard with apple juice, emptying the real deal in a potted plant. He’d gone through and reorganized the filing cabinet according to the alphabetical guidelines of Pig Latin. He’d even lost his virginity here, sneaking up with Peyton Packer one weekend while his father was out of town.
In retrospect, that last one had been a mistake. What should have been the ultimate act of defiance had devolved into an awkward, difficult-to-maintain erection as he’d recalled all the times he’d been chastised here, punished here, told he wasn’t good enough here.
Although he had yet to resort to sexual antics again, Jake still did his best to transform this pretentious mahogany-paneled room into four innocuous walls. Today was no different. Without waiting for Monty or his dad to invite him in, he strode in and lowered himself carelessly into a chair.
He wouldn’t be intimidated. He wouldn’t be turned away.
“How nice of you to join us this morning,” his dad said without looking up from his desk. Monty lurked over his shoulder, a common enough place to find him during the tediously long work days they both put in. “I thought you’d be out showing Becca the sights today.”
“She’s with Serena,” he said curtly.
“That’s nice. Serena hasn’t stopped talking about your visit since we first broached the subject. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier. We should have invited Becca out months ago.”
Jake agreed, but not for the reasons his dad thought. He couldn’t care less how Serena felt about having company, but it would have been nice for someone to show an interest in Becca’s well-being when she first got released from rehab. God knew her own mother hadn’t.
“I suppose Monty told you I want the ring,” Jake said. He hadn’t meant to jump right in, but the alternative was to sit here and dwell on Becca’s mistreatment—something that wouldn’t end well for any of them.
“He did.”
“I hope it won’t be a problem.”
“Of course not.”
Jake was taken aback by this easy acquiescence—so much so that the belligerence slid right out of him.
“I only wish you’d come to me before you proposed. We could have had it cleaned and resized. Becca is considerably smaller than your mother was.” His dad made a motion to access the safe behind his desk. Most of the family valuables were kept in a different room—one where the head of security, Alex Morris, could keep a close eye on things. The office safe was reserved for items of a personal nature, the things his dad wanted to oversee himself, since he spent nine-tenths of his life here.
It was strange to think the ring had been here this whole time, close at hand, protected, watched over. There were so few reminders of his mom in the house anymore.
“Silly me,” Jake murmured. “And here I thought I might have to put up a fight to get it.”
“Why would you have to do that?”
It was a leading question, a semi-rhetorical one, and one Jake knew it would behoove him not to answer.
He did anyway. “Call me crazy, but I had a suspicion the news of my engagement would be received with something less than enthusiasm.”
The air-tight seal of the safe gave a hiss as the door swung open, and his father cast a penetrating stare over his shoulder. Jake hated that stare. It made him feel as if his dad could see right through him. No—invisible. It made him feel invisible.
“Of course not. Serena and I couldn’t be happier.”
Jake wished he was better at reading this man. With most people, he had a fairly good idea what they were thinking, how they planned to act—and if he didn’t, he watched and waited until he did. Becca might consider that a personal failing, but it had always served him well in the past. It was better to be certain of your steps than to plunge headfirst into a mess.
“For one, it’ll be nice to strengthen our relationship with the Clares further,” his dad said, showing his hand and proving Jake’s point. That was a tasteful way of saying Becca had a lot of money. Clearly, his father wasn’t going to balk at the idea of strengthening his business position by leveraging Becca’s name. “For another, I like her. More specifically, I like her for you. There. That was brave of me, wasn’t it? I hope you aren’t going to break off the engagement now to spite me.”
Jake gritted his teeth, a surge of anger shaking his determination to remain aloof. Why did his father insist on twisting everything around? That man’s feelings were the last thing he planned to take into account when he broke off the engagement.
If he broke off the engagement.
If.
“And to be honest, I was honored that you’d thought to give her your mother’s ring,” his father added, his voice softer this time. “I think she would have liked Becca. She’s a lovely girl.”
“She’s a lovely girl, yes, but she’s also trouble.” Thus far, Monty had been content to take a page from Jake’s playbook, standing back and watching the scene unfold, but the reference to their mother proved too much for his restraint. Jake doubted his brother had given the ring a single thought in over a decade, but he couldn’t stand the idea that Jake might get something before he had a chance to calculate its worth. “I don’t think we can forget some of the more negative attributes her reputation brings to the family.”
“That’s my fiancée you’re talking about,” Jake warned. “You might want to watch where you step.”
Monty flushed darkly. “It’s just so sudden, that’s all. If you ask me, you’re only trying to win...” As if realizing the severity of the accusation he was about to level, he redirected himself. “I didn’t even know you two were seeing each other.”
“Oddly enough, I don’t find it necessary to email you every time I take a lady out on a date. Is that what you want from me
? Details? Pictures? Shame on you. Becca’s your aunt. You should show some respect.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t, actually. Why don’t you explain it to me?”
It was clear Monty intended to do just that. While their dad rummaged around in his safe—stuffed almost to overflowing—Monty took over the role of disapproving father, looming over Jake and delivering lectures.
“You might think it’s funny to skate through life, contributing nothing, but things like our family image affect my day-to-day existence,” he said. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to try and get other businesses to take us seriously when yet another one of your sex tapes is floating around the internet? Not to mention your other exploits. I have to throw money around to get a meeting, and then I get to sit there and pretend that of course I heard about the yacht race and how losing the bet meant you had to dock in Ibiza in the nude in the middle of the day.”
“I think you should give me a little credit for that one,” Jake protested. “Spain is none too warm in February. You wouldn’t believe the wind chill factor.”
Predictably, Monty was not amused. At the time, Jake hadn’t been either. The damage to the hull that had caused him to lose the race had been what damn near wiped out the last of his bank account. And he wasn’t joking about the wind chill. A biting cold like that did things to a man’s anatomy he’d rather not announce to the general public.
“The world thinks you’re a big joke, Jake. Which, by extension, makes me one.”
“No. The world thinks I’m entertaining. They think you’re a humorless tightwad. If you have to grease palms to get in on a meeting, it’s because they’d rather run naked through Times Square than spend an hour in your company.”
He stopped and forced himself to take a deep breath. This wasn’t at all how he intended this meeting to go. According to Becca’s misguided sense of logic, he was a man who reacted to situations. He never took any steps on his own, rarely exerted himself to help anyone unless there was something in it for him. He waited for someone else to make the first move and adjusted his strategy accordingly.
When I Fall Page 18