Claim Me Now (Heron Harbor Book 2)

by Lea Nolan

  “Uh, sounds like an interesting challenge.” Raven would rather drink gasoline next to a campfire.

  Susan laughed. “That’s one way to put it. Of course, the salary will more than make up for the headache. I’ve also got a pharmaceutical company formerly headed by the most obnoxious speculator. You’ve probably heard about him. The pharma bro who price gouged a lifesaving drug?”

  “He’s in jail now, isn’t he?”

  “For securities fraud, but the pharmaceutical company is still viable and needs a new face to change the narrative. You could be that leader.”

  Or she could stay on the couch and finish her Netflix binge. Neither of these opportunities sounded inspiring. They sounded like torture. When Raven put her heart and soul into turning around a company, it had to be something she believed in, not a mob front or price gouger.

  A stress headache began to creep across her skull. These jobs weren’t her. The timing wasn’t right. “I appreciate your call, but they’re not the right fit.”

  “That’s where I come in. New opportunities will arise that you couldn’t dream of. Let me send them to you. No pressure. If one piques your interest, let me know,” Susan said.

  Raven glanced around her apartment at the paused TV screen and stack of empty boxes from her recent purchases. Not exactly the best use of her time.

  It couldn’t hurt to read the available job openings. There might be a gem among the junk.

  “Okay, I’ll give you my email address.”

  Jack drummed his fingers on his desk as he waited for his video call to start. It’d been two weeks since he’d passed Raven’s name on to the headhunting agency, and he wanted a progress report.

  Susan Blackwood entered the chat. “Hello, Jack! It’s fantastic to see you. The beard’s looking great.” No wonder she was the top job placement officer at Executive Placements. She knew how to schmooze.

  “It’s a pleasure, Susan. What can you tell me?” Jack asked.

  “I’m afraid my report is the same as last week. Ms. Donovan hasn’t expressed interest in any of the positions I’ve sent her.”

  This was un-fucking-acceptable. “Why the hell not?”

  “I can’t say. I’ve sent her the best opportunities I’ve got. These corporations are in terrible shape. Any fixer would love them.”

  Raven wasn’t any fixer. “Do they have redeeming value? That’s important to her.”

  Susan chuckled. “Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

  Jack exhaled hard as he scraped his hand through his hair. “Okay. Keep trying. I’ll check in next week.”

  He ended the call and leaned back into his chair. Brilla scooted across the office and laid her chin in his lap. He rubbed the spot behind her ear. “You love me, don’t you, girl? You don’t think I’m a monster?”

  Kiara knocked on the door. “You free?”

  He nodded. “Yup. Come in.”

  Before she sat, she spied Brilla’s head draped over his Armani-clad leg. Kiara’s lip curled. “The dog is comforting you. I guess your call didn’t go well.”

  Jack shook his head. “Raven isn’t interested in any of the jobs she’s been offered.”

  Without getting into the more personal details, he’d filled Kiara in on what had happened between him and Raven, including how he’d come to learn about Paulson Diagnostics in the first place. She’d been a decent sounding board and had even identified a couple of companies that might benefit from Raven’s direction.

  Kiara’s brow wrinkled. “Even the chemical manufacturer? I think the press exaggerated the effects of that weed killer. It can’t possibly be as bad as Napalm.”

  Knowing the company’s former CEO, Jack was sure it was worse. He didn’t blame Raven for turning that one down. He’d have passed on it, too.

  “She nixed every opening. I don’t know what else to do,” Jack said.

  Kiara crossed her arms. “It’s possible there’s nothing you can do.”

  Jack ignored that shit because it was quitter talk. He wasn’t ready to give up, not until he’d made things right with Raven. Maybe then she’d give him a chance. “She’s all about her career. It’s everything to her. I’ve freed her from the non-compete agreement. Why wouldn’t she want to find a job right away?”

  “Maybe she’s waiting for the right one or has her own leads. She’s still got her severance rolling in each month. She can afford to be picky.”

  Frustrated, Jack crossed to his corner office window. This suburban industrial complex was growing on him. When he’d first arrived, he’d thought it was hideous. It lacked the spark of New York City and the idyll of Somerset, Connecticut. But this town outside Philadelphia had begun to charm him. It was a community of little shops, public services, and nicely tended front yards. No wonder Raven cared so much about the people who’d worked here.

  Jack watched cars drive by Paulson Diagnostics’s corporate headquarters. Everyone else seemed able to go on with their lives. Why the hell couldn’t he and Raven?

  “She hasn’t texted me about the release letter,” Jack said, still gazing out onto the street.

  Kiara laughed. “What’d you expect? A gold-plated award for being a nice guy?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe a thank you. At least an acknowledgment.”

  “You bought out her company, and we fired a whole bunch of her people. She’s pissed.”

  He turned to face Kiara. “There has to be something I can do.”

  “You’ve already grand-gestured her. There’s nothing else.”

  He grinned. “Except go bigger.”

  Her brow arched. “What’s bigger than allowing a spy to compete against us?”

  He leveled his gaze. “I already told you, she wouldn’t do that. Help me think of something.”

  Kiara sighed. “Fine. What does she need?”

  “Probably nothing. She can afford whatever she wants.”

  “That’s crap. Every woman wants something whether she admits it or not.”

  “Like what?”

  Kiara tapped her black Saint Laurent pumps as she thought. “Something she loves. Something she can’t easily replace.”

  Jack thought long and hard. Finally, an idea sparked. “I’ve got an idea.”

  “Is it big enough to forgive you?”

  “It better be.”

  Chapter 22

  Raven awoke to a loud beeping sound from the street below her bedroom window. Sitting up, she peeked through the blinds. An enormous auto transport trailer was depositing a shiny white BMW 7 Series sedan wrapped in a giant, red bow into a parking spot in front of her building.

  Her heart raced. She scrambled from her bed, thrust on her bathrobe, and ran to the front door, pausing to shove her feet into sneakers before speeding outside. Her neighbors had gathered on the sidewalk to gawk at the gleaming, gorgeous, brand-new vehicle.

  “You got a new car,” Mrs. Greenblatt, the elderly woman in the unit opposite Raven's, cried.

  Raven smiled. “I didn’t.”

  “It looks just like yours,” Mrs. Greenblatt pointed out.

  It did. Except it was newer and even more beautiful.

  She nodded at Mrs. Greenblatt. “It does, but it’s not.”

  Raven glanced across the lot at the blue BMW 5 Series. She’d hardly driven it except for the occasional grocery run. There were two days left on the rental, so she needed to get hopping on buying a new car. That would be her goal for today.

  When the trailer driver placed the BMW in its spot, she exited the cab with a handful of paperwork and headed for Raven’s building.

  “Are any of you Raven Donovan?” The trailer driver asked. Her jacket name tag read Christine.

  “She is,” Mrs. Greenblatt said, pointing to Raven.

  Dammit.

  Raven raised her hand. “That’s me.”

  Christine thrust a short stack of papers her way. “Sign here for the delivery, and I’ll take the keys for the other car.”

  “The other car?” Raven
asked.

  Christine looked down at her own paperwork. “The blue 5 Series.”

  “But my rental lasts another two days.”

  “Lady, you just got a brand-new car. What do you need a rental for?”

  “To go car shopping,” she answered, even though her plans were only about five minutes old.

  Christine laughed. “Well, someone beat you to it. Could you sign and hand over the keys so I can get on with my deliveries?” She handed Raven a pen.

  Raven felt a thick card amid the stack of papers and read the note inside.

  Raven,

  If it weren’t for me, you never would’ve been on the island when the storm hit, and your car would still be in one piece. Let me be the fixer and accept this gift from me.

  Always,

  Jack

  Her heart twisted. From another man, this could be a heart-stopping, endearingly sweet gesture. But this was from Jack Baines, so she didn’t know if it was simply a gesture of kindness or an attempt to buy her forgiveness. That bothered the hell out of her.

  “Oh my God, how romantic! What are you waiting for?” Mrs. Greenblatt’s nose peered over Raven’s shoulder.

  Raven pressed the note to her chest. “It’s rude to read other people’s mail.”

  Mrs. Greenblatt waved her off. “I’m seventy-five years old. I take my thrills where I can get them.”

  Raven turned back to Christine. “I’m not signing.”

  She lifted her brow. “Are you kidding me?”

  Raven shook her head. “I didn’t ask for that car. I don’t want to sign for it.”

  Christine scratched her head. “You’re telling me someone bought you a luxury vehicle out of the blue?”

  Raven nodded. “Yes.”

  Christine cocked her head. “You’re gonna make me take this all the way back to Newark, put me four hours behind schedule, and make me miss kissing my kids goodnight?”

  Raven blinked.

  “Come on, lady. Give me a break. You can always sell it,” Christine said.

  Raven grabbed the pen. She had a different plan.

  Traveling I-95 was usually a freaking nightmare but driving it in a brand-new BMW 7 Series was like rolling on a cloud, inside of a dream. The car was exquisite. A metal-clad powder puff with 523 horses under the hood and every conceivable luxury inside.

  Too bad Raven would be dropping it off at Jack’s Connecticut house, then taking a car service to the nearest train station. She’d be in and out of that state lickety-split.

  It wasn’t right to keep the BMW.

  It wasn’t hers.

  And she wasn’t his.

  Everything about Jack was wonderful—his face, body, charm, wit, and generosity—the things that shone on the outside and drew people to him. But on the inside, there was a little dark spot on his character that was okay with hurting people if it meant he’d get ahead. Which was why, no matter what grand gesture he offered, they could never work.

  So the car needed to go. She Googled his name and found his Connecticut property was in the same town as Son Co, LLC.

  Raven’s cell rang with a call from Wren. She tried to cancel it but hit the speaker button instead.

  “Finally, you answered!” Wren’s voice blared.

  “I’m here too,” Lark added.

  Crap. Double-teamed.

  “I’m driving, so I can’t talk right now. Gotta go.” Raven reached to hang up.

  “Don’t you dare,” Wren warned. “I’m still pissed at you for skipping Thanksgiving at my house.”

  Raven hadn’t wanted to miss it, but she couldn’t muster the energy to fake a happy holiday. This wasn’t the time for that argument. “I’m on the highway,” Raven said.

  “What highway?” Lark asked.

  “I-95. The New Jersey traffic’s getting heavy.”

  “Where are you going?” Wren asked.

  “For a drive.”

  “This passive-aggressiveness is not like you, Raven. And neither is your evasiveness. You’ve barely talked to us for weeks. We’re concerned about you,” Lark said.

  “So, it’s my turn for an intervention?” Raven gave a weary laugh.

  “Turnabout is fair play,” Wren said.

  “I’m fine. Really.” And now she was a liar.

  “So, you applied for a job?” Wren asked.

  “Ooh! Are you going to an interview?” Lark piled on.

  “No and no,” Raven answered.

  Lark grunted in frustration. “Then where are you going?”

  There was no use in avoiding it. She might as well spill her guts. “To Connecticut to return the car that Jack bought me.”

  Lark gasped. “Jack bought you a car?”

  “A brand-new BMW 7 Series to replace mine.”

  “You told us that was just a fling.” Wren’s words flew like an accusation.

  “Uh-huh.” Because she couldn’t bring herself to explain how he’d made her feel, the hope he’d kindled, or how crushed she was when it all fell to shit.

  “Flings don’t buy you cars,” Wren said, mounting her case.

  “This one did,” Raven shot back.

  “Um, you forget that I know Jack,” Lark said. “He doesn’t buy cars for the women he sleeps with.”

  Raven gave a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, I can’t forget that. It’s why I’m in this situation.”

  “What situation is that? You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?” Lark asked.

  “I knew it. That beach house works some serious magic,” Wren sighed, wistfully.

  “Yeah, a lot of good it did. It ended up a total fail,” Raven said, bitterly.

  “No, you broke your rule and went beyond your one-night-stand comfort zone. That’s amazing personal growth,” Lark said.

  That was true for Raven, but she was only one side of the equation. “Too bad he’s a monster,” Raven muttered under her breath, only half-joking.

  “Jack is one the best guys I’ve ever met,” Lark protested. “He’s a tough businessman, no question. It doesn’t say anything about who he is as a person.”

  “It speaks to his character,” Raven shot back.

  “I’m not sure you know him well enough to judge that,” Wren said. “I saw Mrs. Hendrix at the Shipwreck. She told me Jack saved her life.”

  Raven’s jaw dropped. “What? How?”

  “After the storm, Mrs. Hendrix’s neighbor dropped a tree on her house while she was still inside. Jack helped cleared it, and carried her out, then brought her to the hospital. He held her hand the whole way, then sat at her bedside. She’s just one of the people he helped while he was on the island.”

  Raven’s heart leaped to her throat. Poor Mrs. Hendrix. She must’ve been terrified. Thank God that Jack was there to help. Wren’s story twined around Raven’s heart, softening her resolve, but reason gave her a mental slap. Her grip on the leather-wrapped steering wheel tightened. “Are you finished applying for the Jack Baines fan club? Your anecdote is touching but has nothing to do with being greedy.”

  Larked laughed. “He’s the most generous person I know.”

  “And how’s that?”

  “He gave me a loan and doesn’t care when I pay it back.”

  “So that’s what he did for you,” Raven said, her resistance slipping further.

  “If it weren’t for him, I’d have lost my studio and RV.”

  “Why didn’t you come to one of us?” Wren asked, sounding crushed that Lark hadn’t trusted them with her problem.

  “Because I didn’t want to hear your lectures about how I squander money. My job is cyclical, and commissions and workshops aren’t regular. I was in a dry spell and got behind in my mortgages.”

  “But you could’ve come to us for a loan. You didn’t need to ask a stranger,” Raven said.

  “He’s not a stranger,” Lark shot back. “And I didn’t ask him for it. We were at dinner, and he could tell I was anxious and asked why. When I finally explained, he offered me money. That was the night I told hi
m about Paulson Diagnostics.”

  “Why are you telling me these awesome things about Jack?” Raven asked, heavy on the sarcasm.

  “Because we want you to be happy,” Wren said.

  “And everyone who saw you with him said that you were,” Lark added.

  “So stop clinging to any excuse to justify not following your heart,” Wren followed up with the coup de grâce.

  Although they were separated by invisible cellular waves, Raven felt like her sisters had punched her in the kidneys. She took a moment to gather her wits before responding. “Well, thank you for the psychoanalysis. I didn’t realize you’d both gotten your doctorates in psychology.”

  Lark sighed. “Raven—”

  “Don’t ‘Raven’ me. I’m coming off the worst month of my life. I lost my job, due in no small part to my own sister. Everything I’ve worked my ass off for over the last two years is likely to implode. My friend and a bunch of people I cared about were kicked to the curb. My beloved car was crushed by a tree. And yes, I fell for a guy who turned out to be the architect of my undoing. I wasn’t bending my rule—I was about to break it. Me. In a relationship.” Futile laughter trickled from her mouth. “And that’s not the worst thing I’ve faced this month.” Emotion welled, tightening her throat.

  “What is it?” Wren asked, her voice filled with trepidation.

  “You can tell us anything,” Lark said.

  Raven swallowed hard, willing the words past her lips. “I’ve kept something from you since I was seven years old.” Her voice was rough and thick.

  The interior of the BMW fell deadly silent as Raven screwed up her courage.

  Her pulse quickened as words formed in her head but didn’t make their way to her mouth. This was the confession she’d dreaded for years. She’d come this far. There was no turning back. Forcing the knot in her throat down, she chose to be brave.

  “I caused Mom’s accident. I’m the reason she’s dead.”

  A swell of emotion crashed over her, and hot tears flowed. Her secret was finally out in the open.

  A long beat passed before Wren said, “That can’t be.”