Win Big

by Kelly Jamieson

  What do we have in common? Besides Owen and Hank. Okay, Heather likes hockey. And she has a pretty good sense of humor, and she’s a great mom, but I’ve never felt anything more than sympathy and affection for her. I still haven’t said a word, flabbergasted.

  “You’ve been seeing Everly Wynn,” she continues. “You didn’t tell me about her. I didn’t think much of it until you showed up here with her. I was…hurt.”

  “I’m sorry.” My response is automatic. I had no idea. I rub the back of my head and look away.

  “I thought about it and realized I have to tell you how I feel if I ever want to have a chance with you.”

  My head is spinning. This is insane. I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to hurt her—again—but I don’t feel like that about her.

  I do feel like that about Everly.

  Before I can say a word, though, she goes on. “Owen needs a dad.” Her voice trembles. “And he looks up to you so much. You’ve been there for him, since Hank died. You’ve really helped him deal with his father dying. You’re a huge part of his life.”

  Jesus. Guilt slams into me like a slap shot. It knocks the wind right of me.

  I’m the reason Hank is dead.

  That’s why I do so much for them. I mean, I really do love Owen, and Heather’s great, a good mom, a nice person. But I realize that selfishly, everything I do is to try to make myself feel better.

  I gaze helplessly at Heather as more guilt pummels me.

  She’s right. Owen needs a dad. And I’m the one who took his dad away from him.

  Owen does love me. It would be easy. There are times Heather, Owen, and I are almost like a family. That time we went to Disneyland, people did think we were a family. We could make it official and I could spend the rest of my life trying to make up for how I let them down.

  Now Heather’s waiting. Watching me, clutching her wineglass, her eyes flickering.

  How much am I willing to do to make up for the heartache I’ve caused them?

  I keep thinking about Everly.

  I think I might be in love with her. Okay, I know I am. I never planned on having that. I don’t feel like I deserve it. But she doesn’t feel the same.

  If I can’t be with Everly, maybe I should think about what Heather’s saying. Hank, wherever he is, would be happy that I’m taking care of his family. Or would he be pissed? I don’t really know, and I guess I never will, but I think I need to live life for the living. It would make sense. It would help assuage my guilty conscience and make up for my failings.

  But my insides are rebelling, my gut churning, my lungs burning. I know what I should do…but can I?

  Chapter 22

  Everly

  Our second family meeting is at Théo’s place, because it’s a little more central for everyone coming from different directions—Harrison from Pasadena, JP from Long Beach, Noah and Riley driving up from San Diego together. This time Lacey joins us too.

  When I walk in, Lacey focuses on me and her forehead creases. “Are you okay?”

  I nod brusquely. I’d rather drink bleach than tell her about my broken heart with the whole family here, especially my three brothers.

  She clearly doesn’t believe me, but lets it go. For now.

  “Okay, check in time,” I announce, sitting at Théo’s dining table. “What have you all learned?”

  Théo slaps some papers on the table. “Here. This should answer some questions.”

  “What’s that?” I eye the papers.

  “The lawsuit.” He shakes his head.

  “Whoa.”

  “It’s public information. I don’t know why we didn’t think of just looking at it sooner.”

  I make a grab for it, but JP gets it first. “Okay, Théo, give us a synopsis.”

  “Here’s the deal. Grandpa didn’t steal the money…exactly.”

  I stare at him.

  “He borrowed it. He used the money to fund the purchase of Steve Holbrook’s share of the Condors. He wrote out the loan contract and agreed to pay interest using installments.”

  “That’s not stealing!” My eyes pop open wide.

  “But…” Théo holds up a hand. “He didn’t repay it as per the stipulations in the contract. According to that”—he gestures at the papers JP is now scanning—“they tried to talk to him about it and even sent him written notices, but he still didn’t pay up. So they sued him.”

  “He failed to timely cure such defaults and accordingly…the entire balance of the note would become immediately due and payable,” JP reads.

  We all fall silent.

  My mind whirls. Well, this isn’t as bad as outright theft, but…I swallow.

  “Mom knows about this,” I say, my voice scratchy. “She wouldn’t tell me anything, but I know she knows.” I relate my conversation with my mom.

  “I talked to Aline,” Lacey adds. “She wouldn’t say much either. She thinks it’s a ‘misunderstanding,’ but she supports Matthew and Mark.”

  “Obviously,” I add.

  “But she doesn’t believe your mom had anything to do with it,” Lacey adds. She meets my eyes and smiles.

  “She’s been coming to pretty much every meeting with Grandpa,” Théo says. “And I saw her meeting with Kate.”

  The chief financial officer of the Condors organization.

  I wrinkle my nose. Why would that be?

  I’m not the only one wondering that. “What the hell?” Riley snaps. “Why would she do that? Is she trying to get more money?”

  I turn and level her with a narrow-eyed look. “Excuse me?”

  JP waves his hands. “Stop. We aren’t going to solve things if we keep acting like our parents.” He focuses on Riley. “That was kind of uncalled for, Ri.”

  She purses her lips. “I’m sorry.”

  I inhale a fortifying breath as I check my notes from our last meeting. “Harrison and Asher…what happened when you talked to Dad?”

  They exchange a loaded look. Asher sighs. “I don’t think it was a good day for Dad.”

  My stomach clenches. I don’t even need to know what he means. “Oh.” I meet his eyes. “Mom’s trying to get him to go to the doctor.”

  The air in the room thickens.

  “He won’t go,” I continue, trying to keep my voice from trembling.

  “I’ll talk to him,” Théo says quietly.

  “No, I will,” JP speaks up. “I know you two are close because you work together, but he and I talk…quite a bit.”

  “Have you noticed problems?” I ask him.

  “Yeah.” He purses his lips. “Sometimes. But other times he’s totally fine.”

  “He either didn’t know what we were talking about,” Harrison says, “or he was pretending not to know. I’m not sure which is worse.”

  “Shit.” I rub my forehead, feeling the tension gathering in my shoulders. “JP? Théo? Did you learn anything from your dad?”

  JP grimaces. “Dad is still super pissed about it. I get it. It’s a lot of money. I think he’s worried they’ll never see it again. And apparently he needs the money. Purchasing the Golden Eagles was a huge risk for him.”

  “Well, he didn’t need to buy a hockey team,” Asher says. “He only did that because he was pissed at Dad.”

  The air snaps with tension, but JP answers calmly. “He always thought he’d have that trust fund there if he needed it, and now it’s gone.” He and Asher have a stare down.

  Asher nods. “Fair point.”

  “My dad doesn’t need the money,” Riley adds, looking around. “I asked him about it. He’s okay financially. I think he’s more worried about Grandpa than angry. But he is pissed about it.”

  “He has a right to be,” JP adds. “Does he think Chelsea was involved?”

  “No.” She mak
es a face. “He says he doesn’t totally trust her, but apparently she talked to him about it and…he wouldn’t tell me what exactly was said, but I got the impression she was trying to fix things.”

  “That’s the impression I got too,” I put in. “My poor mom. She’s dealing with Dad and his…health issues.” Wow, that’s a euphemism for my worst fears. “And the money issues.”

  “I think that’s why she sits in on meetings,” Théo says quietly. “I suspect she wants to know what’s going on in the business so she can, er, remind Grandpa. Or help him understand.”

  “Oh my God.” I bury my face in my hands. “Oh my God.”

  Lacey gets up and moves around the table. She rubs my back. “I’m sorry, Ev.”

  My dad. This can’t be happening to my dad. I know he’s not young, but come on, seventy-two isn’t old either. And he’s still so fit and agile. Physically. Oh my God.

  I’ve been so worried about this, hoping and hoping it’s not really happening. With so many others confirming my own fears, it’s hard not to feel devastated. But we still don’t know for sure. He hasn’t gone to the doctor and gotten a diagnosis. There’s still room for a tiny bit of hope.

  But Mom wouldn’t be involved in the hockey team if she didn’t think there was good reason. She knows how that could be perceived by Mark and Matthew…that she’s taking over or interfering, trying to get money. She wouldn’t do that unless she had to.

  Oh my God.

  I lift my head and look around the table, my eyes burning. “What do we do next?”

  “I wonder if they’ve tried mediation,” Théo says, rubbing his chin. “If we got everyone in a room together—I mean Uncle Mark, Dad, and Grandpa—and tried to get them to talk it out, maybe that would help.”

  “It won’t help if Dad doesn’t even remember what he did,” Harrison says quietly.

  “Yeah.” Théo nods. “What would end this?”

  “If Dad and Uncle Mark got their money back,” JP replies.

  “Maybe we should talk to Chelsea.” Théo looks at me.

  I roll my lips inward while I consider that. “Maybe.”

  “Who should do it?” JP looks from me to my brothers.

  We all exchange glances as well. “All of us?” Harrison suggests.

  “I told you, I tried to talk to Mom,” I say.

  “What if we tell her that we all want this stupid feud over, and we’re trying to figure out how to do that. Ask for her help,” Harrison says.

  I nod slowly. “Maybe. Or maybe someone should talk to Mark and Matthew. Do they know that Dad is…maybe not well?” Pain slices through my chest. “Maybe they should make an effort to resolve things before it’s too late.”

  “I’m sure they’ve noticed too,” Théo says. “Although they don’t see Grandpa very often anymore.”

  “This is ridiculous.” I’m losing patience. “We’re talking about a fight over stupid money, when my dad is…is…” I can’t even say it. Alzheimer’s is fatal, although it can take a long time. I slide my gaze around the table. “We all have more than enough money to be comfortable. Family is more important than money.”

  Heavy silence fills the room, and then everyone murmurs agreement.

  “Okay,” I say to Harrison, Asher, and Noah. “Let’s talk to Mom. Let’s start with that. How do we get her alone?”

  “I’ll figure out something,” Asher says. He looks as pained as I’m sure I do, his mouth tight and his eyes dark, and yet he asks, “You okay, Ev?”

  I am so far from okay. I was a mess before I got here, after ending things with Wyatt. After falling in love with him, which I knew I shouldn’t do. After coming face-to-face with my ugly past. And now I feel sick about Dad.

  “No.” I attempt a smile. “But we have to deal with it.”

  I want to go, but we sit around talking for a while longer until Riley and Noah say they have to get going. Everyone else stands, making the move to leave. Lacey hugs me, and I pick up my purse to head out too.

  Outside Lacey and Théo’s place, I stand on the sandy sidewalk for a moment. It’s dark, and a chilly, salty breeze is wafting in off the ocean. I shiver and walk down the sidewalk, but instead of going to my car, I turn, make a loop around the back of the building, and look up at Wyatt’s place. His living room window is faintly illuminated.

  My heart reaches out to him with a yearning that hurts. He’s so close. As in physical proximity. But I ended things with him.

  I wander farther down the sidewalk and step onto the beach.

  It’s dark, although lights along the path and from the houses lining it keep it from being completely black. The sky is a clear, deep blue, stars glinting out over the ocean. The distant hushed whoosh of ocean waves onto the sand carries on the soft breeze. I kick off my ballet flats and dig my toes into the cool sand, wandering a bit. Then I lower myself onto the beach, sitting cross-legged.

  I gaze at the building where Wyatt is. The sliding doors onto his terrace glow yellow. He’s in there.

  My chest constricts and my stomach is quaking.

  Why did I end things with him? It all seems so meaningless now. What does anything matter, when we’re all just going to die?

  Okay, that sounds melodramatic, but it’s true. Dad could have a heartbreaking illness that will steal him away from us. Why am I worried about what could happen if I’m with Wyatt? What difference does it make in the big scheme of things? He’s not Gage and I’m not sixteen.

  And I don’t have to be perfect.

  I’m not perfect. And there’s no such thing anyway. And…Wyatt knows I’m not. He’s seen me at my worst and still seemed to like me. With him, I feel like I can be myself instead of the person I’m supposed to be. I thought I knew who that was, but now I’m not so sure.

  Wow, I was so afraid of screwing up that I…screwed up.

  Okay. Now it’s time to be brave.

  I stand and dust the sand off my butt. I trudge through the sand, pick up my shoes, and step onto the sidewalk. I pause once more, take a deep breath, climb the steps to Wyatt’s condo, and ring his doorbell.

  He opens the door a moment later, a big broad silhouette in the light behind him. He’s wearing black sweatpants and a loose gray Condors shirt, his hair tousled. His face registers surprise at seeing me, his head jerking back.

  “Hi.” I hold his gaze. “Can I come in?”

  Chapter 23

  Wyatt

  I’m afraid to believe what I’m seeing.

  Is this really Everly, here at my place?

  My gaze wanders over her face. Her eyes are big and dark, her mouth soft and sad. What’s going on?

  “Uh. Sure.” I step aside and she walks in past me.

  “We just had our ‘family meeting’ at Théo and Lacey’s place.” She drops her purse on a chair and turns to face me, twisting her fingers together. “You know how you always say life is short? So you need to enjoy it?”

  “Yeah.” The corners of my mouth tick up. “We’re here for a good time, not a long time.”

  “It’s true.” She swallows. “So true. That’s why I’m here.”

  “For a good time?” I eye her warily. If this is a booty call, I’m not sure I can resist, but I wanted so much more than that with her.

  She huffs out a laugh. “Sort of.” She shuts her eyes briefly and inhales. “Remember I told you how I was worried about my dad? How he keeps forgetting things and getting confused?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Everyone else has noticed it too. I th-think there’s really something wrong with him.”

  Ah, fuck.

  She sucks air into her lungs. “And I was thinking that you’re right, we don’t have long here, we need to make the most of it, and I decided I should talk to you.”

  “Okay…”

  “Can I tell you about G
age?”

  Fuck. I clamp my lips tightly together and my stomach lurches. I’m not sure I want to hear this. Except…I have to hear it. “Yeah.” I gesture to the couch. The TV is still on, but I muted it to answer the door.

  She sits, her posture stiff, her fingers still twisting together. “Gage used to play for the Condors.”

  I sit too, keeping some distance between us, which I hate. “I got that.”

  “When I was a teenager, about sixteen, my parents had a party one night at our house and he was there. He was…interested in me. He kept looking at me and smiling, and talking to me. Flirting. And I…”

  I keep my mouth shut on the curse words that want to spill out.

  “I was interested in him,” she admits. “He was older, handsome. He was confident. He was an NHL player. He had a place in the world and people looked up to him, and the way he treated me made me feel…grown up. I was always more attracted to older boys—”

  “Dan Diaz,” I mutter before I can stop myself.

  She purses her lips and tilts her head in a mildly reproving gesture. “Since I’m spilling my guts, you might as well know I’ve been to therapy about this, and I’ve come to terms with my so-called daddy issues. Part of the attraction with Gage was knowing that my dad would hit the roof if he found out what was going on. Because any attention from Dad was better than being ignored.”

  “He ignored you?” My jaw slackens.

  “Not deliberately. My dad loves me. But he had three sons who all played hockey. He had a big business to run. A hockey team. He was traveling all over the place going to games. Those things got his attention. Not me.”

  My chest feels like a boa constrictor has wrapped around it. It’s hard to breathe.

  “Gage told me he was getting a divorce.”

  “He was fucking married?” I stare at her.

  “Yes. And he wasn’t getting a divorce.” She rolls her eyes. “Then. They did end up divorced.”

  “Christ.”

  “It was stupid,” she continues in a low voice. “I know it was, but at the time I was a dumb teenager. I thought it was so exciting. We couldn’t be seen together in public, he couldn’t tell his friends about me, he couldn’t meet my friends, I couldn’t tell my parents.”