The muffled voices from the television pulled him into the big room. Loretta was curled up in the corner of a couch, watching a flat-screen TV hanging on the wall above a fireplace, where gas flames danced over faux logs. She glanced at him and smiled, and Jamison felt that hard punch of love that always left him feeling off-balance.
From the first moment they’d met, almost sixty years ago now, Jamison thought with a jolt, he’d loved Loretta. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him and, as the years passed, that only became clearer to him.
Young people might think love was only for them, but Jamison was here to testify that flames didn’t burn out, they only got warmer, steadier, and the love that fanned them, richer.
“Hi, hon,” she said. “How was your day?”
“Frustrating,” he admitted with a scowl and gave a quick look around the room. Usually, he walked in here and felt better. Loretta had decorated the place in soothing tones of blue and greens that always reminded Jamison of the sea. Overstuffed couches and chairs, gleaming oak tables, and a stained-glass window on one wall that tossed colored patches of light onto the hardwood floor. It was a room made for relaxation but, today, he knew it wasn’t going to help him.
Jamison walked to the wet bar across the room, poured himself a scotch and took the first gulp like it was medicine.
“Tell me what happened.” Loretta hit the mute button and instantly, silence dropped onto the room.
“Still thinking about another fruitless argument with Luke yesterday.”
“Oh, Jamie, for God’s sake, let it go.”
He stared at her. She was as beautiful as ever. Her short, stylish hair was a striking white now, but her blue eyes were as sharp as they always were. She wore the diamond stud earrings he’d given her for Christmas and some kind of loungy outfit of soft black pants and a pale gray top that was loose enough to hide what he knew was a body she kept in excellent shape. But the look in her pretty eyes was as frustrating as the rest of his day had been.
“How can I let it go?” He walked over, dropped onto the couch beside her and fixed his gaze on hers. “That boy was supposed to take over Barrett Toys. He was my future and, now, he’s turned his back on everything to get kids hooked on technology.”
She laughed, reached over to the closest table for her glass of red wine and took a sip. “You sound like a man on a horse-drawn cart complaining that his son wants one of those newfangled cars.”
“Not the same thing at all,” he muttered, looking into his scotch glass as if searching for answers.
“Exactly the same.” She straightened one leg and used her foot to nudge his thigh. “When you took over from your father, don’t you remember how he lamented the end of the company because you wanted to make too many changes?”
He dropped one hand to her foot and lazily stroked it. That was different. His father had been stuck in the mud. No vision. No ability to listen. “Yes, but I didn’t leave the company, did I?”
“And Luke won’t either.”
He snapped her a hard look. “He already has.”
Loretta waved that away. “He’ll be back.”
“You sound damn sure of yourself.”
“Not of me,” she said. “I’m sure of Luke. Yes, he’s off on his own right now, but that’s not saying he’ll stay there.”
“If you’d heard him yesterday, you’d believe it.”
“He needs to prove himself. Just as much as you needed the same thing about fifty years ago.” She sighed a little. “He’s as stubborn as you are. That’s why the two of you butt heads so often.”
“Thanks very much.”
She ignored that and wiggled her foot. “Foot rub, please.”
He snorted, but obliged.
Loretta sighed her pleasure, but then kept talking. “Like I said, Luke’s proving something to you, I think. And until you can accept his ideas and trust him to do the right thing, neither of you is going to be happy. Meanwhile, until Luke comes back, you have Cole to help you out at the company.”
“Cole.” Shaking his head, Jamison said, “He just doesn’t have the head for the company like Luke does. Today, Cole left early again. Took a lunch and then just went home rather than back to work. Said he had some to-do with Susan and Oliver.” He paused before demanding, “What kind of activity does a two-year-old have that a father can’t miss?”
She gave him a push with her foot. “That two-year-old is our great-grandson.”
“And I love him, but Cole’s not just that boy’s father, he’s a vice president of the company...”
“Spending time with his son is a good thing, Jamie.”
“I know that, and it’s not about that, really. In a family business, you should be able to take off time when you need to, to be with your kids. That’s not what really bothers me.” Shaking his head again, he muttered, “He doesn’t give a flying damn about the business. Meetings at work, he’s not paying attention. He’s...indifferent. At the heart of it, he doesn’t understand or care about what happens to the company and makes no effort to, either. He’s just—”
“Just what?”
He looked at her and admitted the truth. “He’s not Luke.”
Studying him, she asked, “This isn’t just about Cole’s lack of vision and effort or even about Luke, is it? I mean, you’re angry and hurt, but there’s something else, too.”
He scowled at her. “It’s not easy being married to a mind reader.”
“Thankfully, you have years of practice. So, stop stalling and spill it.”
He rubbed at the spot between his eyes but didn’t bother trying to ignore her. Jamison knew better than to evade anything as far as his wife was concerned. “I’m losing it, Loretta.”
“What do you mean?”
He pushed her foot off his lap and stood up, clutching his scotch glass. “I mean, I’m forgetting things. It’s been going on for a while, but lately, it seems to be getting worse.”
She frowned a bit, but her voice was soft and easy as she asked, “What kind of things?”
One of the reasons he loved her as fiercely today as he had sixty years before was her inherent calm. Nothing shook the woman. Even when they’d lost both of their sons and daughters-in-law in one blindingly horrific plane crash, she’d been rocked only for a while. Because she had taken her pain and turned it into love she lavished on their grandsons, Cole and Luke.
Jamison was very glad of her stoicism today because by God, he needed it.
“Today, I couldn’t find the statistics I had Donna print out for me on the new toy line. I put them on my desk and then a half hour later, they weren’t there.” Shaking his head, he muttered, “I must have moved them, but damned if I can remember doing it.”
“Maybe Donna moved them.”
“She said no.”
“Well then, you were busy. Distracted.”
“Maybe.” Distraction only worked as an excuse for so long, though. And he’d been losing track of little things for weeks now. When would that change to the big things? Would he forget who he was? Forget Loretta? He ran one hand across the back of his neck and tried to still his racing thoughts. If there was one thing that terrified Jamison, it was the threat of losing himself. Of his mind slowly disappearing. At eighty, he’d prided himself on staying in shape, but there was nothing he could do about his memory. His ideas. His thoughts. If he lost all of that...
“You’re worrying for nothing,” Loretta said.
“It’s not just the statistic reports,” he countered. “Yesterday, after Cole and Susan went home, I couldn’t find my damn car keys.”
“That’s not a new phenomenon,” Loretta said wryly. “On our first date, you couldn’t find them either, remember? You had to walk me home?”
He remembered and his smile proved it. “That was different. I did that on purpose to get more time
with you.”
“Jamison Barrett!” She slapped his arm. “I got in trouble for that because I was home so late.”
“It was worth it,” he said with a wink.
Her mouth worked as if she was biting back words trying to slip out. Finally, though, she admitted, “Yes, it was worth it. And, Jamie, you’re worried now for nothing. You don’t have Alzheimer’s. You’ve just got too much on your mind.”
“It’s been happening for weeks, Loretta.” He scowled at the admission. He hadn’t wanted to worry her. Hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that there might actually be something to worry about.
“You should have told me.”
“I didn’t want to talk about it. Now...”
“If you’re that worried, go see Dr. Tucker.”
His scowl deepened. “That’s just admitting that I’m worried.”
“You’re driving yourself crazy over nothing, Jamie. I would have noticed if there was something wrong with you.”
A splash of color from the stained-glass window fell on her, shading her hair and her features with pale, rosy light. He looked into her eyes and chose to believe her—because he needed to.
“You’re probably right.”
She laughed shortly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “After nearly sixty years together, you should know that I’m always right.”
“True.” He smiled. “What was I thinking?”
She moved into him, wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest.
He tucked her in close with one arm across her shoulders and took the comfort she offered. And he thanked whatever lucky stars had given him this woman to go through life with. He’d needed this time with Loretta. This calm, soothing time when he could center himself again.
Which was why he didn’t mention hiring the woman Donna had told him about.
* * *
Fiona stepped out of the shower the next morning and asked herself what the heck she was doing. She and Luke had spent the evening together, and then made plans to tour the city today.
“Shouldn’t be doing this,” she muttered. “Not supposed to be getting involved in a case. But how can I not? I have to talk to him, right?” And she really liked him, too. Which made all of this even harder.
“But at the same time, I have to get him to see his grandfather’s side of things. Get him to talk to me about this, so I can present arguments he might listen to. Make him want to go back to the business, and I can’t do that if I avoid him, right?”
Fiona turned the hot water off and took a second to just rest her forehead against the tiled wall. She’d flown all the way to San Francisco to meet him. To convince him... She couldn’t exactly do that if she didn’t spend time with him.
She flushed, just thinking about what had happened yesterday at their first meeting. She’d never been so blatantly sexual in her life. And wasn’t sure how it had happened, beyond the instant attraction she’d felt for him.
“This has the chance of becoming a real mess,” she muttered as she reached for a thick white towel and wrapped it around her still-dripping body. She used another one for her hair, then swiped the steamy fog off the mirror. That didn’t help, though. Now she had to meet her own gaze and read the trouble in her own eyes.
Her big plan had been to meet him here, at the conference, where he was away from home. Talk to him, get to know him. Not sexually, just...friendly. Then when they got back home, maybe become his friend and ease him into seeing that his grandfather and the family company needed him.
“But I shot that plan down myself.” Frowning at her reflection, she said, “This is really not good.”
He was her job, damn it. She was supposed to be resolving his life, not throwing her own into turmoil. This was her job, and she was going to be professional. She had no business at all fantasizing about the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. God, it was just embarrassing what had happened earlier. She never should have fallen into his lap.
When her cell phone rang, she thought of it as a break from her crazy-making thoughts. Then she saw the call screen and sighed. No avoiding this, either.
“Mr. Barrett,” she said, forcing a smile into her voice. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
Actually, she’d been hoping she wouldn’t. But in her short acquaintance with Luke’s grandfather, she’d already learned the older man wasn’t exactly patient. Still, she didn’t have anything to report. Didn’t have any news to give him. And she couldn’t exactly share with the man that his grandson had set her body on fire.
“Ms. Jordan—is it all right if I call you Fiona?”
“Of course.” She straightened the tower of a towel on her head, then with one hand, wiped the steam off the mirror again.
“Did you meet with Luke?”
“I did,” she said, though she wouldn’t be telling him how that first meeting had gone. She could just imagine. God, that would be mortifying. Yeah. That would be good.
Keep your mind off Luke. At least while you’re talking to his grandfather.
“I’m meeting him in an hour. We’re going to spend the day together.” And she hoped to be able to get him talking about his grandfather again. Get this job back on track. Jamison Barrett had hired her to bring his grandson back into the family business, and she was going to do it. She’d never failed on a contract before, and she wouldn’t this time, either.
Fiona’s business, ICanFixIt, had been born out of her innate ability to solve problems. Not math, of course. Math was terrifying to her. But if someone lost a diamond ring, or a puppy, she could find it. If you needed tickets to a sold-out concert, Fiona could get them. Find long-lost relatives, she was your girl. Basically, Fiona could fix your problem, no matter what it was.
So, she wouldn’t spoil her success record by failing this time.
“He’s ignoring the conference in favor of you?” Jamison chuckled. “I’m impressed. Nothing my boy likes better than the technology business and being around others just like him. You must be a miracle worker after all.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” she said, and frowned at her reflection.
“Well, from what my secretary, Donna, tells me, you accomplish the impossible all the time.”
She winced. Yes. She had worked for Donna’s sister Linda. Fiona had found the daughter Linda had given up for adoption thirty years ago, and she’d helped the two women reunite. Which was how Jamison had found out about Fiona in the first place.
At the time, she’d had no idea that finding a long-lost daughter would be considered easy compared to what she was supposed to do now. From what she’d seen of Luke yesterday, not only was he gorgeous, ridiculously sexy and funny on top of it...he was also stubborn and determined to make his own company take off. She was on his side in that because she knew just how much her business meant to her.
But Jamison was her client, so her loyalties had to be to him.
“Mr. Barrett, I don’t want you to get your hopes up too high,” she warned quietly. Yes, she’d never failed before, but what was it her foster mom had always told her? There’s always a first time. “I’m going to do my best, but your grandson seems very stubborn.”
“He is,” Jamison grumbled. “Got that from his grandmother.”
Fiona almost laughed aloud at that. It was clear to her that Luke was more like his grandfather than either man would probably admit.
“This is the last night of the conference,” he said next. “Luke will be flying home tomorrow, so I’ll expect another update from you tomorrow night or the following morning at the latest.”
“Of course,” she said, and silently hoped that she would have some good news to give him. But from what she’d seen of Luke Barrett so far, Fiona had the feeling he wasn’t the kind of man to make hasty decisions. He’d left the family business because he was convinced that it was the right move
for him.
How was she supposed to change his mind over the course of a single weekend? Answer? She couldn’t. It was going to take more than this weekend, which meant that she’d be seeing lots more of Luke Barrett.
She looked into the mirror and saw eager anticipation in her own eyes. Oh, not good.
“Fine, then. I look forward to hearing from you. Get it done.” Jamison hung up a moment later, and Fiona set her phone down.
Staring at the woman in the mirror, she said, “This is just another job, Fiona.”
When her own reflection rolled her eyes at that, Fiona knew she was in deep doo-doo. “No getting involved. No letting your hormones drive the car here. Get Luke talking about his family. Make him realize what he’s walking away from. And when it’s over...you walk away. Because if Luke discovers you were hired to meet him, convince him, he’ll never speak to you again anyway.”
So, it would be better for her if she simply didn’t get attached in the first place...
* * *
By that evening, Luke felt like he was standing at the edge of a very high cliff. His body had been tight and hard since the moment Fiona had dropped into his lap the day before. Ditching the conference and spending time with her instead hadn’t helped the situation any.
They’d played tourist all day, taking a cab down Lombard Street, checking out Golden Gate Park and stopping for a drink at a tiny pub at Fisherman’s Wharf. Hell, if anyone had told him a week ago that he’d be playing tourist, he’d have laughed in their face.
But Fiona had wanted to see the park and the wharf, so he’d gone along. She’d checked out the sights and he’d watched her. The night before, his sleep had been haunted by images of her and now he had even more memories to draw on. Fiona, standing at the rail on the wharf as a sea wind tossed her hair and lifted that short black skirt. Her grin as their driver took them down the most notoriously twisted street in the world.
Not to mention the way her tongue had caressed the ice cream cone he’d bought her at the park.
Jet Set Confessions Page 4