Silent Hearts (Hamilton Stables 3)

by Melissa West

  “I think it sounds like you’re an amazing father. And dive instructor, apparently. She’s back under.” Becca laughed until she realized Zac wasn’t.

  “Which brings us to why we’re here. It’s time you go under now, too. I know you’re afraid. I can see it all over your face, but I’m right here. Brady and Charlie are here to help, too. And all of us have been through CPR certification. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Becca chewed on her bottom lip. “What if there are sharks?”

  A smile pulled at Zac’s lips, and Becca thought he was so adorable. She hoped he would find a match for him and Carrie-Anne soon. He deserved happiness. “I know Brady’s a little aggressive, but a shark? That’s giving him a little too much credit.”

  Now Becca was laughing hard, relaxing more with each second. Until she thought of the sharks again. “You know what I mean. What if we run into sharks during the checkout dive? I think I’m afraid to complete this last session because it means I have to go out in open water to finish my certification. And I’m scared. Like insanely, might-melt-down scared. Are you sure you want that kind of liability on your hands?”

  “Okay, truth time. Have I swum with sharks? Sure. But you have to remember, you’re bigger than most of the sharks you’ll see, and the rule in the ocean is that nothing bothers anything bigger than it. But even the big sharks want nothing to do with you. They may swim by, but they’ll ignore you and keep on trucking. The only time I’ve run into anything with sharks was when I was spearfishing and a shark snagged a fish from my net. But otherwise? Nothing.”

  “And piranhas?”

  “Have teeth, yes. But again, nothing for you to worry about.”

  “And if my air dies out?”

  “That doesn’t happen.”

  “All right, a hose bursts?”

  “That’s why you always dive with a buddy, but even then, that’s rare, and we’ll all be down there with you.”

  Becca glanced over the pool; everyone in the class was practicing underwater. Everyone except her. Was she really going to be shown up by the elderly man in the class? By little Carrie-Anne?

  No.

  “I’ll go down with you. I’ll be right there. And then Nick will be there on the checkout dive, right?”

  Becca nodded.

  “Okay, then. You’re safe. I promise you that you’re safe.”

  With one more swift nod, Becca slipped on her mask, which she’d pushed onto the top of her head, and nodded again to Zac.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes.” No.

  Zac released the air in his BCD and began to sink. Becca did the same, her heart hammering like crazy in her chest, but she ignored it. This wasn’t going to beat her. Not this. Not going back to college.

  She could do anything she wanted to do, age be damned, fear be damned.

  Finally, she sank below the surface, and Zac gave her an okay gesture and she offered it back, and then she was swimming. Underwater. Breathing. Underwater. The whole thing felt so surreal that before she thought better of it, she sped up, her breathing labored, and she realized she was using too much of her air supply. Slowing down, she took her time exploring the props Zac had placed in the bottom of the pool, checking her air constantly along the way. And then, too quickly, Zac swam over and gave her the thumbs-up that it was time to go back up.

  She broke the surface and squealed, excitement coursing through her, mixing with pride.

  “You did great,” Zac said. “See, you’re ready for the checkout dive. It’s the same thing.”

  Brady draped an arm around her shoulder. “Yep, the same. Just watch out for the sharks.”

  Nick toyed with his cell phone, rotating it around and around, part of him wishing he’d never asked for the appointment, the other half eager for it to begin.

  He told himself that he was doing due diligence, double-checking all the things he needed to double-check, crossing his Ts and dotting his Is. But really, he wanted to see if he still felt the same comfort he’d felt the last time he’d met the man.

  The elevator pinged loudly on the quiet floor, and Nick set his phone down on his desk and glanced out his open doorway, only to find the crew had come by for the weekly cleaning.

  With a deep breath, he leaned back in his chair and took in his office. Never had an office looked less like its owner than this one. For whatever reason, he’d never wanted his degree to be hung there, when it had always been a huge deal to his parents. So for years his diplomas had hung in the study of his parents’ house. Only when they had both passed had he moved it, and now it was in his office at his house: an office that exuded his personality.

  Part of the problem was that Nick had left the decorating of his office at home to Becca and the one at work to the decorator on the project. One person knew him; the other cared only about money.

  So his work office was full of expensive drapes and furnishings and other things that meant nothing to Nick.

  His home office was comfortable, the desk itself nothing to write home about, but the chair was meant for a man to sit in and work. God, he loved that chair. And if this meeting went the way he both feared and hoped, that might be his permanent office going forward.

  Well, at least he had the chair.

  The elevator pinged again, and Nick glanced up in time to watch William Compton step off. He swallowed hard, but he didn’t stand to greet the man. He wanted to prove a point—this was his decision, and though he’d immediately liked Compton, even if he hated to admit it, he didn’t know the man and therefore refused to trust him.

  So Nick watched him walk toward his office, but where most men might arrogantly ask what this was all about, William stopped in the doorway and knocked, despite the door being open.

  “Mr. Hamilton? You asked to see me.”

  “Call me Nick, and I did. Please, come in.” When Compton stared down the hall to the conference room, Nick added, “That was my father’s conference room. If it’s okay, I’d rather not discuss selling his business in the place where he helped it thrive.”

  Compton nodded slowly and took one of the chairs in front of Nick’s desk, watching him in a way that made him uneasy, yet the look was so familiar that he couldn’t help getting straight to the point.

  “Mr. Compton, I—”

  “Surely if you insist that I call you Nick, you can call me William.”

  Once again, Nick thought that he liked William Compton, that something about him felt real in a world of fake. “William. I’ll be honest with you. I didn’t call you here so much to talk about selling you the business as asking why you want it.”

  “I should think that would be obvious.”

  “With most of the investors who’ve sought us out, yes. But not you. I get the impression there’s a reason you’re here, and it has nothing to do with business. What’s the story?”

  William stood then and started around the office, stopping at a large portrait on the wall of Carter with his three sons. “He was very proud of you, Nick. Talked about you all the time. ‘Nick’s going to conquer the world,’ he used to say.”

  “I thought you might know my father, but that isn’t what has me confused. You can’t be in this business without knowing Carter Hamilton. But what I can’t figure out is why you also look like him. It’s barely there, and you could argue that all older men look the same. Hell, you could argue that all young men look the same. But there’s something about you in particular that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

  William sat back in his chair, his elbow propped up on the armrest as he studied Nick, and then a smile broke across his face. “He always said you were the smartest.”

  “So you did know him.”

  At that, William laughed. “Yes, I’d say I did. He was my brother, after all.”

  “Your what?” Nick’s mouth fell open, and though he prided himself on his composure in meetings, he couldn’t force it back closed.

  “I see that’s come as a bit of a shock to you
, which isn’t surprising. Carter was a private man, as you know. And he would never have wanted to taint the memory you have of your grandfather. I daresay I didn’t know him as well and am not so loyal.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Carter was my half brother. Your grandfather was my father. He had an affair with my mother who, as cliché as it might be, was his assistant. They maintained a relationship for many years before my mother married the man I considered to be my father all my life.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me that during that first meeting?”

  William offered a warm smile. “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

  Nick tried to make sense of what William was saying, but he came up empty. What he knew of Frank Hamilton was that his grandfather had been a strong businessman, forever driven, but also a family man, much more so than even Carter had been. The idea of him having an affair seemed farfetched and offensive.

  But then Nick thought of his times visiting Frank at the office as a kid, and how different he acted there. Like he led two separate lives. So either Frank was a cheater with two families—one he claimed, one he didn’t—or William Compton was a liar.

  Nick wasn’t ready to taint his memory of his grandfather on the word of a man he barely knew.

  “You have your own company, a successful one. Why would you want to buy Hamilton Industries? Is it an ego thing? Buy the business from the father who refused to claim you as his own?”

  William laughed, his belly jiggling, his cheeks reddening. “Perhaps I was rash in my assertion of your intellect. Frank did claim me, and I was given the very same opportunities as Carter. But I was never a Hamilton, and I was proud to be a Compton. Years later, Carter and I became friends, and we made an agreement to buy the other’s business before allowing it to crumble. So here I am.”

  “But my father passed away five years ago. There’s no reason for you to honor your agreement.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. The person you are, the impact you make, the choice to be honorable or not, doesn’t have an expiration date. Your existence remains for eternity. Your mark on this world will never fade and you have a choice—be remembered for the good or for the bad. Either way, someone will remember you. I’d prefer to stay on the good side; wouldn’t you?”

  The longer Nick spoke to William, the more he felt as if he was talking to his father. He spoke like him, their voices similar, the way they used every conversation to interject some bit of age-old wisdom. And the longer he thought about it, the more his gut told him to trust William. What could he possibly gain from lying? Nothing. “Trip and Alex don’t know.”

  “Nor do my sons. Nor would you, if you hadn’t figured it out.”

  “You could have lied.”

  “We just went over that.”

  Nick laughed then, relaxing into his chair. “So this isn’t a greedy businessman trying to buy my father’s business. It’s my . . . uncle? You’ll forgive my doubts.”

  “You wouldn’t be a Hamilton if you trusted me at my word alone.” William checked his watch and then stood up. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have a flight to catch. Doubts are there for a reason—they force us to do our homework. Feel free to do yours, and when you do, I’ll be ready to chat again.”

  Nick stood and shook William’s hand. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me. I’ll be in touch.”

  “I hope so.” William made it two steps before turning back. “There was an unauthorized biography written about your grandfather, right?”

  “There was.” Though Nick had never read it.

  “When doing your research, you might find it interesting.”

  Nick nodded to him, and William walked out just as Nick’s cell vibrated against his desk. He peered down to find a new text from Becca.

  Checkout dive, here I come. I hope you’re not planning to back out on me!

  Nick thought of his best friend and how much she meant to him, now more than ever. His family might not be the rock he’d always thought it to be, but Becca was as pure as they came, her friendship never wavering.

  I wouldn’t miss it.

  Chapter Twelve

  The boat rocked again, throwing Becca forward, and for the first time in her life she understood the term seasickness. In all her experiences on a boat, she’d only ever coasted lazily—ocean or lake—but this was something else entirely. And though she wanted to be brave, she had considered asking them to take her back to the marina.

  “Are you all right?” Zac asked from her right side, and then Nick on her left added, “Yeah, are you all right?”

  The tension between them wasn’t quite what it had been before the putt-putt match, but she could still feel that uneasiness between the men. Or maybe the uneasiness she felt was simply part of her sour stomach.

  “Fine. Are we almost there?”

  “It’s just a thirty-minute boat ride from the marina. We’re almost there.”

  Becca nodded, telling—no, ordering—herself to pull it together. She was going on this dive, she would not chicken out, and when she was done, she was going to go back to her and Nick’s hotel room and go all dominatrix on him to prove she was the ultimate badass now. So there, fear. Take that!

  All right, so maybe there was no way in hell she would ever do the dominatrix thing, but they were going to have sex. Lots of sex. All night. Because it had been a week since that episode in his pool, her putty in his hands, and she was dying to know what he could do in bed if he managed all that amazingness in the pool.

  Their schedules hadn’t lined up all week, but now they were in the Florida Keys for the checkout dive, sharing a hotel room, and nothing would ruin this weekend.

  Nothing except Becca vomiting all over Nick, which was entirely possible if the boat didn’t stop soon.

  Deep breath.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Nick asked when Zac went to the front of the boat to talk to the captain. With their charter service, they weren’t the only class on the boat, and Becca found herself studying each of the other students, in her class and the others, curious as to who was the weakest link. Who wouldn’t go through with it. And she’d come to the unfortunate conclusion that none of them appeared as scared as she felt. So if they were ranking the coolest to the un-coolest, she was at the slap bottom. Number one on the uncool list.

  If she didn’t go through with the dive, she would be that lady. The one twiddling her thumbs, dressed in full dive gear, only to watch others having all the fun. Was she really going to let that happen? After all, she had faced things in her life and never once had she backed down. So fear or not, she would do this. She would jump in that water and suck up every doubt and dive, dammit.

  Her stomach lurched again.

  If she didn’t throw up first.

  Finally, the boat stopped in the middle of the ocean, water all around, and Becca remembered that I’m Alive show she’d watched during the summer, in which that couple’s boat sank and they were on that tiny life raft, surrounded by sharks, and the man’s leg was bitten off, and their lips were all crinkly from lack of water and their skin was burned by the sun—

  “Becca? You’re white.”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s the lighting, the sun. I’m fine.”

  “Bec . . .”

  “I’m doing this.”

  Nick grinned and leaned into her, kissing her cheek, then whispering in her ear, “You’re adorable when you’re determined.”

  She smiled and the nervous rope cutting off her air supply loosened a bit. “You won’t leave me?”

  “Nope, it’s the buddy system. You never leave your buddy. I won’t leave you.”

  She drew a long breath. “Thank you. For coming. For everything.”

  “Nowhere else I’d rather be. Now let’s get your tank set up.”

  They spent the next few minutes following Zac’s instructions. Fasten on weight belt. Place the BCD on the tank, the regulator on top, turn the air on, listen for leaks, turn
it back off, but remember to turn it on before jumping in the water.

  Becca had just sat back down, feeling better about the whole thing, everything she’d learned and all the hard work over the last six weeks playing out, when Zac stood up. “All right, let’s get ready. Strap into your tanks.”

  Okay, you can do this. You can do this. Don’t look at the water yet, don’t think about sharks. Oh, shit, I thought about sharks. Sharks, sharks, sharks. Oh my God, I’m going to be in the water with sharks.

  “Becca, try to relax.”

  “I’m relaxed,” she said without looking at Nick.” Totally chill. I’ve got this.”

  If the sharks don’t get me.

  She sat down and slipped into her BCD, then slid on her fins, and suddenly it was her turn.

  It was her turn.

  Drawing up every bit of her courage, she smiled at Nick as he went before her, and then she went to stand, and immediately snapped back onto the bench. “Woah!” She tried to stand again and snapped back yet again. Oh my God. She was too weak to carry all the gear, she was a failure even before she got into the water. But then, she’d carried all the gear during their pool lessons, so it couldn’t be that. Still, she tried to stand again, only to remain fixed on the bench.

  “Nick, help,” she called after trying for the fourth time. He turned around and burst out laughing.

  “What?”

  “You dressed your tank with the bungee cord on instead of unstrapping it first, then restrapping it.”

  “English, please?”

  He opened his mouth, but she must have shot him a shut-the-hellup-and-help-me look because he quickly closed his mouth. “No big deal. Rookie mistake.” He waddled over to her while the rest of the class tapped their feet and sighed in annoyance. Nick removed the regulator block from the top of the tank, unstrapped the bungee cord from the tank, and then put it all back together again.

  Ah, now Becca understood the whole unstrapping and restrapping comments. She was such an idiot.

  “There you go, madame,” he said, the widest smile in the world on his face. “All set now.”

  “Shut up.”