Falling for Jack

by Joanne Hill

  “Don't cry, 'Ric,” Ruby said as she edged closer to him, and Eric's body began to heave as Robyn came over and swept him up into her arms.

  Jack’s jaw tightened against the self-disgust ramming into him.

  There was a difference between Eric and those ‘lots of other kids’ and it was one hell of a difference.

  Most of those kids still had their mother.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Robyn’s voice was low and guttural and he didn’t think he’d ever seen such fury blazing in her eyes. She’d settled the children and now she was in his study, anger radiating out from her. “Just what in the hell were you trying to do back there? Just when I think he’s going to be all right, he goes right back and...you made him cry. How could you? How could you do that to him?”

  He faced her, his fists clenched. “Val has put in her will that she wants me to have full custody of Eric.” He unclenched his fists then clenched them again. “She wants him to live with me.”

  Robyn shook her head. “You've lost me.”

  He jerked his thumb to the documents, laid out on his desk that he’d been scanning as if looking for a clue, as if waiting for a voice from the dead to tell him why.

  “Val wants Eric to live with me.”

  “But —” She frowned. “I thought he was going to live with Val’s friend. That’s what you said.”

  “Yeah, well.” He ran his hand through his hair roughly. “That’s what I assumed. Val had other ideas.”

  “Well, I...I...” She turned away, seemed to consider it, then turned back and raised her arms in a helpless shrug.

  His voice was grim. “A shock, huh?”

  “Yeah, it is.” Her mouth twisted but there was no smile there. “And yet...” She shifted her position and met his gaze. “It makes sense, really.”

  He stared at her. “I hardly know him. This Maria has known him all his life. I’ve got a Nazi housekeeper and a business to run. I’m not a car pooling type of guy. She can not have been lucid when she came up with this.”

  “I take issue with calling Mrs Parker a Nazi.” Her mouth curved slightly. “She's softened these past weeks. And you're forgetting the crucial thing here. You're his father.” Robyn sat on the side of the desk, her arms folded, her face serious.

  “Blood ties are worthless. I of all people know that.”

  She exhaled wearily and he was drawn to the mole on her cheek. You barely knew it was there unless you were close to her, but it was there. He’d traced his index finger around it. It seemed a lifetime ago now.

  He added, “I’m his father in name and on the birth certificate. For the first eight years of his life that meant squat. As far as Eric knows, I’m just some nice man her mother sent him out to spend a short holiday with. Not the rest of his life.”

  His words appeared to have startled her. “You are more than that and you know it.”

  “I know who I am,” he said, “and the title ‘father’ doesn’t come into it.”

  She stared at him, and said deliberately, “So what does this mean? You’re going to go against her wishes, and send him back to Canada? Leave his mother's friend to raise him, with no family?”

  “I will do what is best for Eric.”

  He slotted the papers smartly into the manila envelope and saw the note on top. A piece of thick white paper with Val's handwriting. There was nothing familiar about that handwriting. It was cursive, neat; it belonged to his son's mother. That was all. A freak biological connection.

  He ran his thumb down over the paper. She had to have sat down, maybe at a kitchen table one night when her son was sleeping, and written it. Maybe she'd gone over it several times, written several drafts before she was satisfied with what it said. Knowing that when it was read it was because she had died.

  Robyn shifted, stood up, but hesitated. He waited for her to offer some sage advice, to tell him what to do.

  She only looked at him, a look he couldn’t for the life of him interpret.

  She walked a few steps to the door when she said, “When did you say you were flying out?”

  He met her gaze squarely. “Thursday. Val's funeral is Saturday.”

  She nodded slowly then focused intently on her fingernails.

  Suddenly there was quiet all around them as a dozen thoughts flew through his mind.

  Eric's mother had died.

  This thing with Robyn was almost over.

  She was going home.

  The most challenging, frustrating, the most fun, most enlightening few weeks of his life — it was coming to an end.

  The realization numbed him. He pushed himself away from the desk, took a step closer to her, wanting to ask her if the past weeks had been the same for her.

  Her head didn't lift.

  He swallowed down. “It's a small private service. It's what she wanted.”

  Her head moved, barely a nod, and finally she looked up at him, looked straight at him.

  Her expression was frustratingly blank. “That gives me time to get everything sorted.”

  The silence stretched out uncomfortably until Robyn said quietly, “He'll need an extra bag for all his stuff.”

  The clothes he'd bought, the stuffed “Muppet” toy from the pet show, and the bits and pieces accumulated over the past weeks.

  He swallowed heavily. “I’ve got extra bags.”

  The atmosphere was suddenly charged and his chest tightened.

  His world had changed these past weeks and right now it was changing on him again.

  He was used to change. He’d strived for it his entire adult life. He'd made decisions, built a business, turned his life around. Taken what life had thrown him and dealt with it.

  Yet right now he had no idea what to do.

  Loss sat heavily on him and he hated the feeling.

  Robyn folded her arms across her chest, and lifted her chin at his silence. “I guess I better make sure he’s got everything he needs for the trip.”

  “I was going to head into work but I don’t think it’s wise.”

  “Maybe you should go and get away for a bit. Eric will be fine with us and Mrs P, and Sage and Harry might drop in.” She gave a wan smile. “You need a break too, Jack.”

  She turned, too quickly and Jack called out, “Robyn.”

  She stopped.

  He said impulsively, “Have dinner with me tonight.”

  Her eyes watched him questioningly. They'd never been out, just the two of them. Not without kids. “My treat. Just the two of us, before I take Eric back.”

  “Mrs Parker's doing a roast tonight,” she reminded him.

  “Ah. Not missing that.” She never did a roast dinner when it was just him but she prepared one regularly now.

  “But tomorrow would be fine,” Robyn added.

  Relief punched Jack. “Good. I'll take care of the arrangements.”

  An hour later, Jack sat back in his chair and put his feet on the desk because it was his office and he could do what he liked. Even so, the disapproval emanating through the closed door from Collette was tangible.

  “Catch.” A chilled can flew through the air and he caught it.

  Ethan sat on the edge of the desk, gazing moodily out the window. Jack rubbed the annoying, firmly entrenched ache in his chest, but Ethan turning up had eased it somewhat. The beer was an unusual twist given the hour of the day, yet it seemed appropriate.

  Ethan suddenly sighed. “Do you ever look back over the past month and wonder just what the hell happened?”

  Jack flipped open the can, drank down the cool beer. “Every hour of the day. I end up more confused than ever.”

  “I'm not confused. At least about one thing. You and Charlotte. Brad and Emily. It’s all proof to me to stay clear the hell away from relationships.”

  Jack sighed then. Hindsight had provided some answers on that one and on the drive over as he’d tried to focus on anything other than Eric’s grief, he’d thought of Charlotte. He hadn’t heard from her, and he hadn�
��t heard from Brad. It was better that way.

  “Me and Charlotte, you know, it was never the love match of the century. The media liked to make out it was and Charlotte didn't do anything to dispel it. But it was convenience. I liked her.” Had never been in love with her.

  Ethan gulped down some beer as if he hadn't been listening. “And then there’s that friend of Robyn’s.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows. “Sage?”

  “She looks easy enough on the eye. Then you try and make conversation with her. A barracuda with breasts.”

  Jack’s eyebrows knit together. “I hadn’t noticed that about her.”

  “You've had other things on your mind, Jack.”

  Jack leaned even further back in the chair and stared at the white ceiling.

  Right now Robyn was at his house organizing his son. Getting her kids packed to head back to their little home in the sprawling suburbs.

  He massaged his temples.

  “I'm taking Robyn out to dinner tomorrow night. I owe her for...” His voice caught in his throat. For everything. “I would have sunk hard and fast without her.” He glanced over at Ethan who was looking intently at his can. They were mates but they never talked about deep stuff. “How about coming over to babysit the kids?”

  Ethan started to grin, then stopped. “Babysit? You're not kidding.”

  Jack got to his feet. His body was tight. He needed to go on a long run to loosen up. “We’ll go local and the children should be asleep. Although you'd need to keep a regular eye on Eric. He’s sleeping badly.”

  Ethan held up his hand. “I've got it. If anything out of my control happens...” He held up his cell.

  Jack nodded. “Thanks, mate.”

  Ethan brushed his thanks aside. “It's not as if I'm actually doing anything else tomorrow night. Or any other night for that matter. I’m just a sad old bachelor in a house for one now that Emily's deserted me. In fact, I’m so darned pathetic I jump at the chance to say yes.” He took another swig of the beer. “Isn’t there a game on?”

  “I have no idea. But we've got sugar cereal if you need a snack.”

  Ethan grimaced. “Oh, yum.”

  “Jack’s taking me out for dinner tomorrow night,” Robyn told Sage as they stopped by the noticeboard at the mall. She’d been looking for a gift to give Eric, a book she’d get them all to sign so he'd have a permanent reminder of his short time in New Zealand. Maybe it would help him remember the good times, when odds were for him, New Zealand would always be the place his mother sent him when she'd died.

  It was hard to comprehend it all. She glanced back at the children's area of the bookstore where all three were flicking through books. Every time she looked at Eric, her heart ached. What he must be feeling, the grief, the uncertainty, she had no idea.

  “I think I need glasses,” Sage squinted. “Can you see a book club for vegan cooking?” Then she stopped. “Sorry, did you just say you and Jack are going out? He’s actually taking you out on date? No children in tow?”

  “Not a date, and yes, you do need glasses, the vegan cooking is right there.” She stabbed the noticeboard and Sage scrambled around in her tie-dyed tote for a pen and paper. “So what's the occasion?” She scribbled down the details.

  “A thank you for me being around these past weeks.”

  Sage nodded solemnly. She'd shared the shock at Val's wish for Eric to stay with Jack. “Where’s he taking you?” She pocketed her paper.

  “I don't know. He's taking care of the arrangements but it'll be somewhere local in Takapuna.”

  “Ooh, upmarket Takapuna is your local now. How times have changed. What happened to the fish and chip shop down the road from our place being the local?”

  Robyn punched her lightly on the arm. “Oh, it will be again.” That she knew.

  Sage paused at a display and picked up a book. “Okay, I'll come over. I fancy his house. Fancy him too in a way.” She brushed her hair back behind her ear and muttered, “Unlike that creepy friend of his.”

  “Creepy friend? Who — oh, Sage!” Robyn closed her eyes a moment. “For the love of all that is good, there is nothing creepy about Ethan. You’ve barely even talked to him.”

  “I know him enough to know an arrogant swine when I see one. The man sends chills of repressed horror up my spine. I hate to think what he’s like in bed.”

  Robyn groaned and Sage protested, “I get a bad feeling from that man. He has bad vibes all over his aura.”

  She shuddered and Robyn exhaled. She loved Sage, she was family, but this...

  “I think we're going out about eight. Come over, say seven-thirty?”

  “I’ve got some DVDs on organic gardening I can watch on his big screen TV. I do love that living room of his and all that space. And the size of that TV. And so handy to the kitchen.” Sage turned to her and nodded. “Count me in.”

  There was a commotion coming from the front porch. Jack took the stairs two at a time and pulled open the door. Ethan and Sage stood there, both thunderous, in some kind of stand off. Ethan was clutching a six pack, Sage a bag of fruit.

  She beckoned to Ethan. “What the heck is he doing here?”

  “He’s here to —”

  “Ethan?” Robyn was coming down the stairs behind him. “Hi?”

  “What’s going on?” Ethan pushed past Jack, jabbing his finger in Sage’s direction. “Don’t tell me I have to babysit her as well.”

  “Babysit?” Sage glowered. “I’m the one babysitting these children. What are you doing here?”

  “Hold up.” Jack held up both hands in confusion as Robyn stopped at his elbow. He breathed. She smelt of something musky, vanilla. It momentarily distracted him.

  She said, “I asked Sage if she’d come over. I assumed you wanted me to sort out the childcare.”

  “I saw Ethan and asked him.” He scratched his jaw. “I never thought to check. The night is my treat.”

  “Well, I’ve got my evening planned.” Ethan shot a glare at Sage, then bent and kissed Robyn on the cheek. Jack frowned. Had his lips lingered on her cheek?

  She shrugged apologetically at Sage whose eyes were so narrow in accusation it was amazing she even had vision.

  “Uh uh.” Sage went further in and put her bag on the side table. “He can go. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Got no ball breaking to do tonight?” Ethan shot back.

  Jack groaned. “There are children asleep in this house.” Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a flash of pink at the top of the stairs.

  “It's Ruby. I’ll go.” Sage was already making for the stairs. “Ruby knows me. A heck of a lot better than —” She pointed her outstretched finger towards Ethan. “Him.”

  Ethan glared at her disappearing figure. “I've got no one at home, not even a cat, and she's already got a daughter. I’m not budging.”

  He strode into the family room, changed the TV channel to the game build-up and lay back on the huge leather sofa with a sigh. Without looking away from the screen, he said, “Looks like you just got yourself a two for one deal. Go and have a good time.” He angled all six foot five of his body so he could reach the remote and his beer without having to move off the sofa. “And don't worry. I've got it covered here.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Jack had chosen an upmarket but casual restaurant that had been mentioned in the latest issue of the Metro magazine as the hottest restaurant on the North Shore.

  It was crowded for the middle of the week, and a few people gave them curious glances as they were shown to their table, a table set for two.

  The days of having people blatantly stare, as they would have when he’d gone out with Charlotte, had passed.

  Although heads turned as he walked through with Robyn. She looked stunning.

  Her pale purple shirt clung to her body, the neck open enough to hint at her smooth skin, and black pants and low heels finished the outfit. Hers was a subtle attraction, completely different to Charlotte. But then Charlo
tte never stepped out in public without makeup and immaculate hair.

  He’d thought about Charlotte again today, to analyze himself in regard to her, in regard to their relationship.

  He had few answers. She had been the one who had instigated the relationship, had called him after they'd first met. He’d suggested dinner, on a high after winning a lucrative contract, and they had dated again and before he knew it, he and Charlotte Bodie were a couple. He had enjoyed her sense of humor, had enjoyed being with her but as he’d begun accompanying her to events and functions, he’d preferred to slide in to the background and let Charlotte do the smiling and the talking. But being here with Robyn was different.

  He didn’t want to be in Robyn’s background.

  They studied their menus, discussed their choices like a normal couple, ordered their meals, and watched the sommelier pour the pinot.

  Jack nodded a greeting to the CEO being seated at the neighboring table, and checked his cell.

  “No calls from Ethan,” he announced. He slipped the phone back in his pocket. “I take that as a sign all is good on the home front.”

  “The twins will be asleep. What about Eric?”

  He shook his head. “I'm not sure. He's pretty wound up about heading home. Seeing his house, his friends, the memories of Val —”

  His voice caught and before he could say another word, Robyn murmured, “Don't.” She reached across, put her hand on his. “Don't think about that.”

  The touch warmed him before it sent a jolt through him.

  She captured his gaze. “You know that all that stuff is going to happen so there’s no point dwelling on what it will be like because it has to be awful. It's going to hurt. You don't have to let it hurt now.”

  “Profound,” he commented lightly but her words flooded him with a reassurance he found peaceful.

  She said, “You can waste a lot of time second guessing.”

  Their meals arrived and when the waiter had set them down, Jack said, “Are you talking about your ex-husband?”

  She hesitated as she picked up her knife and fork. “Yes.” Her eyes suddenly darkened. “But also my own family.”