Who's Been Sleeping in My Bed?

by Jami Davenport

  Jake nodded. Listening to his father defend Harlee dropped him into the twilight zone.

  “I know the deal between Mom and you. You do fine without…without…” Jake hesitated.

  “Without love?”

  Jake nodded and swallowed a lump in his throat. The thought of losing Harlee for good did strange things to his insides.

  “Do you think I prefer that? I’d rather have my wife and my lover one and the same woman. Sometimes, life doesn’t work that way, and you make choices.”

  “You chose to stay with Mom instead of finding a woman to love?”

  “I respect your mother. We’re a good team. We’ve raised four wonderful children. I stayed because I wanted to stay, for her, for the family, for myself.”

  Jake stared at his hands then looked up at his father’s face, so much like his own. “Three wonderful children and one troublemaker you wished like hell you’d never had.” The resentment bubbled out of him in an uncontrolled rush. Heaven knew what’d possessed him to blurt out those words.

  His father’s mouth tightened in displeasure. He rose to his feet and leaned over his son until his face was inches away. His dark eyes dissected Jake, peeling away each protective layer until Jake felt stripped naked. It took every ounce of courage he possessed not to squirm under that penetrating gaze.

  “Don’t you ever say that.” Joe spoke each word in a clipped, precise manner. “You might have been our surprise, but you were a good surprise. Where did you ever get that idiotic idea?”

  “I…I…”

  “Jake, you have no idea how many nights I used to lie awake wondering where the hell you were and what you were up to. I lived in constant fear of a knock on the door. I’d imagine a policeman informing me that my son had died in a car accident. Finally, I’d give up on sleep and sit in the living room where I had the best view of a car pulling into the driveway. And I waited for you. And waited. And waited. I often wondered where I’d gone wrong. What happened to that laughing, little boy I used to take to ball games? The same one that threw himself in my arms when I came home from work.”

  “He’s still here.” Jake’s voice caught, and he looked away.

  “So am I.”

  “Dad. I…I’m sorry.”

  “So am I, son. Now, don’t disappoint me.” Without thinking or consciously moving, Jake stood and hugged his father to him and was hugged back.

  It was the day hell froze over.

  Chapter 21—A Child Trap

  Jake caught the early morning ferry back to Orcas Island. He escaped to his office, hoping to bury himself in work. At least, he thought he was escaping and burying. Instead, he was digging himself in deeper.

  Sitting in his office on the floor, on chairs, on his desk, and places in between were kids of every size, shape, and ethnicity. He didn’t know what to make of it, but he’d lay a bet Harlee was the brains behind the brats.

  He really wasn’t in the mood for this. In fact, it gave him great satisfaction to fantasize about his hands wrapped around Harlee’s sweet little neck.

  One adult in the bunch shed a few clinging kids and rose to great him. He begrudging admired her courage or foolhardiness. No one in their right mind rode herd on this many rug rats.

  “Mr. Reynolds, I’m Barbara Stanton.” She offered her hand but avoided his gaze. She was a small, bookish woman with crooked glasses and a dumpy suit. He suspected that she didn’t put much stock in physical appearances. Her rich blue eyes told the rest of the story. Here stood a woman who cared deeply about real things, not superficial things. She raised her eyes to his face. He felt as if he was being evaluated for worthiness and somehow fell short.

  “Ms. Stanton, is there something I can help you with?”

  One grubby little boy with ebony skin and equally ebony eyes put a hammerlock on his leg. Ever the sucker for kids, Jake picked him up and held him. He sensed a trap closing, but he was helpless to prevent it.

  * * * *

  Harlee sat in Joe Reynolds’s office with her hands clasped primly in front of her. She glanced down at her ice blue Talbot’s business suit, grateful that Mariah had given it to her. The skirt rode up, and she tugged it down. After Jake’s angry threats, nothing would stop him now. Joe Reynolds might be her last hope.

  Mr. Reynolds walked into his office and smiled pleasantly at her. His eyes did a brief appraisal of her appearance. “Harlee. My second pleasant surprise of the day. What can I do for you?” He seated himself behind his massive desk.

  Second surprise? She didn’t have any idea what that meant, and she wasn’t asking. “Mr. Reynolds, I’m here to talk to you about the Rosehill development.”

  “I see.” He shifted in his chair and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You may call me Joe.”

  “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

  “Suit yourself,” Joe responded as if it didn’t matter to him. “What about the development?”

  “I need your help.”

  “Harlee, I won’t get involved in this situation.” Joe exhibited that same stubborn set in his jaw that she’d seen too many times on Jake.

  “But…you’re the only one Jake will listen to. Warren and Carson wouldn’t dare cross you.”

  “No.” Joe Reynolds crossed his arms in front of his chest. “This is a decision Jake needs to make on his own without my interference.”

  “He’ll demolish that camp.”

  “The toughest decisions are usually the right decisions.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  Joe laughed. “It means I can’t help you.”

  She considered getting on her knees and begging but couldn’t swallow her pride that much. Harlee rose to her feet. “I won’t waste any more of your time, Mr. Reynolds.”

  “Joe. And it was my pleasure. I like you, Harlee. You’ve been good for Jake. You’ve made him examine his priorities.”

  Harlee was at a loss for words. “Thank you,” she said simply, then smiled and hustled her butt out the door.

  She wasn’t any further along than she’d been when she’d walked in his office. In fact, in some ways things were worse. She had Jake’s father’s approval but she didn’t have Jake. What an odd twist to her confusing dilemma.

  Her world seemed to be caving around her, except Jake. He wasn’t caving. He was holding his ground. Mariah and Eva had been certain the kids would sway his decision, but it appeared they’d overestimated his scruples.

  To no one’s surprise, Bridget had jumped ship and was now lobbying for the resort with the same fervor and attention she’d lobbied against it. Jake’s flaky sister was garnering a lot of press with her claims that ReynCorp was building a “green” resort.

  Fergie’s full recovery was a small consolation considering everything else. Harlee had lost it all—Jake, her camp, her promise to Rose, even the mythical horse retirement farm. Worst of all, her deceit had destroyed Jake’s trust. That hurt more than the rest of her losses combined. Something special had been growing between them, and she’d chopped it off at the roots.

  Dejected, Harlee stared at her feet as she walked through the large reception area. She bumped into someone’s chest. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, glancing up.

  Her eyes collided with steel gray eyes as bleak as the drizzle outside. “Warren. How nice to see you.” So it was a lie, but, hey, she just wanted out of this building with minimum hassle.

  Warren’s hand tightened around her arm. “Warren, you’re hurting me. Please let go.”

  “Not yet,” Warren hissed in her ear. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “None of your business.”

  Warren’s gaze slid over her body in the trim business suit. “Trying a little of your particular type of persuasion on Joe Reynolds?”

  Harlee started to shake her head. Warren squeezed her arm tighter and cut off her reply. She swallowed and glanced around for help.

  “It won’t work, Harlee. He’s had the best. Tramps like you don’t affect him.” Warren�
��s overpowering aftershave assaulted her senses. She fought the urge to gag.

  “Let me go.” To her surprise, he loosened his grip. Harlee drew herself up in an attempt to increase her height and her confidence. Something on his face connected the dots in her brain and realization hit her. “You broke into my house. And Jill’s in on this, too. You two have been trying to undermine me.” Harlee didn’t bother to conceal her dislike. “You had something to do with Fergie’s colic, too, didn’t you?”

  Warren’s face lit with smug satisfaction, and he shrugged.

  “I could have you arrested.” Harlee stood a little straighter and glared at him.

  “You have nothing on me.”

  “You bastard.”

  “A warning, Harlee. Stay off the island, out of our lives, and disappear.”

  “Go to hell.” Harlee wrenched her arm away and turned on her heel. She kept her pace unhurried and deliberate, though she wanted to run as if the devil were tailing her.

  Once out of sight, she ducked into the nearest bathroom, locked herself in a stall, and leaned against the partition. Bile rose in her throat, but she fought it. She wiped the cold sweat from her forehead and attempted to get her emotions under control.

  Warren’s intimidation tactics wouldn’t work on her. She’d fight him with every resource available. She’d pull out all the stops. He’d be the one who’d be sorry. She hoped. Unfortunately, that meant fighting Jake, too.

  I’m so sorry, Jake. Please forgive me.

  * * * *

  On New Year’s Day, Jake sat in his office.

  “Don’t disappoint me.” His father’s words ran through his mind in an endless loop. His ambitions yanked him in one direction while his conscience yanked him in the other.

  Those kids had done him in. He hated to admit that particular weakness, but he’d always had a soft spot for kids, especially ones no one wanted. Every one of them told him a story, recited a poem, or just wanted him to hold them. The one that really got to him was the little girl whose father had abused her and let his friends abuse her. She hadn’t talked for over two years until she attended the camp and started talking to her horse after the second week. Hard to believe because she’d never shut up when he met her.

  It was enough to make a strong man weak enough to forget his convictions.

  Bleary eyed, Jake stared at the laptop screen. The endless e-mail messages swam before his eyes until they blurred into one big subject line—Save Rosehill Camp. Save Rosehill Camp. Save Rosehill Camp. He rubbed his eyes with his fists, weary from sleeplessness and worry and something else. Loneliness. It ate at him from the inside out until it left him wondering if it was all worth it without Harlee.

  He read the umpteenth e-mail from someone claiming the camp saved his or her life. No way could all these people have attended that camp. He figured most of it was fabricated. Yet, some letters and e-mails rang true and included pictures taken at the camp.

  Like an unexpected thunderstorm from out of the blue, the Save Rosehill campaign had attacked with the speed of a cheetah after an antelope. These people didn’t let up. They were rabid. Even on Christmas day, they harassed him.

  Christmas day, now there was a disaster. With his family pulling him one way, the press and various special interest groups pulling him the other, and Harlee conspicuously absent, it resembled more of a war zone than a holiday to celebrate love, peace, and goodwill.

  Jake fended off his tenth call from a reporter wanting an interview. So far, he’d heard from the main Seattle news stations, an L.A. TV station, and Good Morning America. What was next? The Today Show and The Tonight Show? The press had taken the story and run with it. Some Hollywood actress with ties to the camp launched her own campaign, gaining support from the rich and famous.

  Since he was a Reynolds, the press played that card to the hilt, “big corporation kicks out homeless kids,” stuff like that. Bashing greedy corporate CEOs had become a popular pastime in America, so the press chose to make him into one.

  His father had to be furious over the adverse publicity. After all, the Reynolds prided themselves on their community involvement. Oddly enough, his father remained silent. No phone calls, no public denouncements, nothing. Not even a lecture from Carson, the prick. Bridget and Brad, after a dressing down by big brother had fallen into line once they understood the financial ramifications. Heaven forbid that they might have to work for a living. Bridget, flake that she was, threw out her tarot cards and took the side of good old capitalism with the conviction of a woman on a mission. She did TV interviews expounding the resort’s benefits. Her lack of accurate research gave the press more fodder, while Brad’s handiwork abounded on the Rosehill Resort web site.

  The wealthy Reynolds family pitted against the poor children in a fight over the fate of Rosehill Camp. Shit. Wealthy? Right now, he felt pretty damn poor, emotionally and financially.

  The phone jangled again, setting his teeth on edge and stretching his nerves to the breaking point.

  “Hello.” Did he sound defensive? Damn right.

  “It’s Rico.”

  Oh, shit, just what he needed to cap off a perfect day. “Rico, let me guess, you’d like to add to my misery.”

  “Actually, I called to see how you were holding up.”

  “Huh?”

  “I know what it feels like to be on the ass-end of a media feeding frenzy.”

  “Yeah, I imagine you do.”

  “I know it’s weird that I’m calling, but I figure you could use a friend right now. I don’t hold this against you, Jake. I know you didn’t realize what a mess you were getting into.”

  “I didn’t. I just wanted to design and build a five-star resort that would rival anything in the Northwest. I never imagined that Mariah, Harlee, and Eva would be so dead set against it.”

  “The girls are pretty ruthless when you cross them. You’re a braver man than I, amigo.”

  Rico’s chuckle made Jake laugh. “Yeah, the three of them are more than a mere man can handle.”

  “Did you know Harlee accepted the job as our barn manager?”

  “I thought she would.” Jake shouldn’t have been surprised, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

  “She loves you.”

  “I doubt that. I think she hates me.”

  “Man, don’t start that. You sound like me a couple years ago. She is in love with you.”

  “Is this some scam to get me to stop the demolition?”

  “No, I’m trying to get you to make your peace with her. I like you two together.”

  “Really? Misery loves company?”

  “Believe me, buddy, I’ll take all I can get of that brand of misery. Mariah might spend money like she’s pouring it through a funnel, but I adore that woman, just like you adore Harlee.”

  “You sound awfully sure of my emotions.”

  “Hey, I’m a perceptive guy.” Rico paused. “Damn. Mariah’s back from shopping. Jake, promise me one thing. Whatever you do, make it your decision. No one else’s. You have to do what you can live with.”

  “I will.”

  “Adios.”

  The phone went dead before Jake could say good-bye. He stood up and paced his office. Confused and depressed, he replayed the events of the past couple weeks in his mind.

  He’d never forget the stricken look on Harlee’s face when he’d confronted her about her lies. Her deception had broken his heart and hardened his resolve to demolish that camp. Now he wondered if he wanted to carry out those threats made in the heat of her betrayal.

  Public enemy number one?

  He never wanted to hurt anybody. He didn’t want to deprive disadvantaged kids of their summers in this paradise. Even he couldn’t deny the healing power they experienced here after hearing all the stories.

  Those kids had so few things going for them. Masochist that he was, Jake flipped open the scrapbook the camp director had left on his desk. It was full of pictures of happy campers hiking through the woods, kayak
ing in the nearby inlets, exploring islands, discovering nature, doing things most kids take for granted, and the simple joy of bonding with a large, gentle animal that took you as you were and expected nothing from you but a treat or a pat on the neck. For those kids, it was the moment of a lifetime. And he was the asshole set on destroying any such future moments.

  The solution seemed so simple, yet so complicated. Sign the lease renewal for the camp. Stop the demolition. Let Warren take everything he owned and wait for the rest of the vultures to pick his carcass clean while his family’s financial legacy gasped its dying breath

  The conversation with his father confused him. He’d actually gone to Reynolds Corp. expecting encouragement to continue with his plan. Instead, he left as confused as ever. His father didn’t give him any clear-cut direction. He’d left the final decision in Jake’s court with only a hint as to what Joe considered the right thing. He was being tested. For what reason, he couldn’t fathom.

  “Don’t disappoint me.” His father’s words rang in his ears yet again.

  He glanced out the window in time to see Warren’s hot sports car come to a sliding stop in front of his office. Great. Just when he didn’t think things could get worse. Jake slammed the scrapbook shut and stuffed it in a desk drawer.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Warren stormed into the room flanked by Carson, the tight ass. Wonderful. Just when he swore things couldn’t get worse. Carson crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against a wall.

  “Right here. Where else would I be?”

  “I thought you were meeting me for lunch.”

  “Oh, I forgot. Sorry about that.” Even if he really hadn’t forgotten, which he had, he would have avoided that appointment.

  “Is everything in place for tomorrow morning?”

  “Uh. Yeah. I guess so.”

  “By the way, I saw Harlee leaving the Reynolds Building last week.” Warren leased space in the Reynolds Building for his law offices. Jake always assumed that his father didn’t charge Warren more than a token amount. Warren’s law practice wasn’t successful enough to justify those expensive suites.