“Another five grand, Terry, I don’t know...”
“Come on, have a little faith, Tammy! You know I did you a favor taking that mortgage off your hands and keeping the house! And helped you with the deposit for your neat little apartment, too. It suits you better than the house, how’s it going now? You always were more of an apartment in a condo kind of girl.”
Tamara wavered.
“Terry...”
“Don’t think too much about it, Tammy, come on, take a chance, live a little! You want to carpe diem, don’t you? That’s what you’ve got to do, Tammy. Five grand, why would you miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime for five grand?”
“Wait, so without that the whole deal will fall through? The investment, the whole... diner chain thing, with the virtual reality... I’m not sure I entirely understand what it’s all about, really.”
“It’s not for us to understand the details, Tammy, that’s why there are experts on board to handle all of that. I’ll be a minor partner, a silent partner, if you will.”
Terry chortled at that.
He had such a warm laugh. It was what Tamara had fallen in love with in the first place, that warm laugh that crinkled those eyes, made him look safe even if he was big as a bear. He’d made her feel safe. She still valued that. She’d needed that back then.
And the idea of Terry being a silent partner in anything was still as laughable as it was back then.
“So you need another five grand to get the deal over the line.”
“You can spare that, Tammy. It’s an investment, a surefire one.”
Tamara sighed a little.
She knew, of course, that she was in for a penny, in for a pound.
The truth was that she did believe in Terry’s potential. He'd had a rough childhood, a rough life in many ways, but there was no denying his intelligence or his ability to read people.
“All right,” agreed Tamara, and Terry grinned.
“I knew you’d see it the right way. Got the cash on you now? I can take a check.”
“Now?”
“No time like the present.”
Well, what difference did it make when she gave it? Tamara grabbed her checkbook from her desk and wrote it out, signed it, crossed it, and gave it to him.
“I need paperwork on this one, too, Terry.”
“Sure, sure, I’ll send the edited paperwork in. Don’t worry about that, Tammy. You know you can trust me.”
Tamara nodded, though she wasn’t too sure if she could trust him.
“Still taking care of kids, huh?”
Tamara smiled.
“That’s what I chose. I take care of kids.”
“But you never wanted one of your own. You never wanted us to have one.”
Tamara felt herself free-falling.
“You know I couldn’t, Terry. I wasn’t ready, and then... Then we weren’t together.”
“We could’ve made it work, Tammy. We could have, if you could’ve found a way to be a bit more flexible. Make our own terms.”
Guilt, again, though she knew that she'd done the right thing for herself.
“You can still have children, you know that, Terry.”
“We would’ve made beautiful children. You would’ve been a wonderful mother. Then you could’ve taken care of our children instead of other people’s.”
Guilt, more guilt.
“We made our choices.”
“I guess we did, Tammy. I still think it was a mistake that you didn’t give me much of a choice. You packed your bags, walked out, and then told me to keep the house.”
“I know.”
“You know it was a mistake.”
The headache started again, the pounding in her temples, threatening to spread to the back of her head. Once it got there, she would have to give up on work and lie down. There was nothing she could do about it after that.
“Terry, please.”
“Sorry, Tammy. Sometimes, I see you and I think of everything you threw away, all the things we could’ve done, all the joy we could’ve found, you know. You’re still beautiful. Still as classy as you were the day we met. Even more beautiful now.”
Tamara was relieved when Georgina knocked and opened the door without waiting to be asked.
“Drew is here, Dr. Jackson.”
Tamara nodded.
“Of course. I’m sorry, Terry, but I have to see Drew now. Take care of yourself. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
“Spend fourth of July with me.”
“What?”
“We used to have fun, remember? We used to get all the gang together, and there would be the barbecue, and beer, and it was just such a celebration.”
Tamara remembered tears, and fights, and watching her husband flirt with women that she had since discovered he'd slept with.
How was it that they had such different memories of their life together? It was as if they'd lived different, separate lives. As if she'd lived in this universe and Terry had had a different, parallel one where they’d been happy.
No, she was being unfair. There had been happiness, too. She could acknowledge that now.
“I can’t, Terry. I’ve already made plans.”
“You can break plans.”
“I can’t, I really can’t. Now, I’ve got to ask you to leave, I’m sorry.”
“Still second place to your career and all the people you want to help. Some things never change. See you later, Tammy.”
With that last parting shot, Terry left and Tammy was left to pull herself back together.
Which she did, because she always did. She always would.
She’d endure, as she always did.
***
“What is it, Meg?”
Dave looked up from his tablet, his glasses sliding a little down the bridge of his nose.
“Nothing.”
“You came into my office, so it’s not nothing. What is it? Are you having trouble at school again?”
Meghan shook her head.
Dave tried to dial down the impatience. He was, he’d been told, supposed to be approachable and open without being pushy. If Meghan made the effort to talk to him, he was supposed to listen and not push her to do what he felt was right.
The good doctor had given him those crisp instructions.
He was supposed to let Meghan feel as if she was in control of her own life. He found the truth of that debatable, but he supposed he was paying her to do her job, and he should let her do her job.
“Then what is it?”
“Do we have fourth of July plans?”
“What?”
“We always have a party, don’t we?”
“I suppose we do. Martha handles the details.”
It was tradition, started by Abby. It was one of the things that Martha had quietly kept going. He'd considered putting a stop to it once, but had changed his mind. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. Abby would have wanted it to go on. She loved building traditions for them.
Like, he thought a little guiltily, the annual family vacation she'd insisted on. There had been that week at Disney World after which they’d needed a week in Belize to recover from the stress and the allergies Meghan had had and the shots, and the crying, and the crowds...
He’d let that one go. That still felt right. How could they be a family without Abby?
“I want to invite a few people.”
“A few people? Friends from school? Give Martha the details. I'll make sure they’re vetted, Meg.”
Meghan’s eyes began to go blank again.
“You know that’s part of the deal. You haven’t given up whoever else was involved in that debacle, so you have to deal with the consequences.”
Meghan nodded jerkily.
“Well, you don’t have to vet one of our guests. I’m sure you already did it. I invited Dr. Jackson.”
“Your therapist?”
Meghan met his eyes defiantly, fire meeting coolness.
<
br /> “Yes.”
“Is that what you want?”
“It’s what I want,” declared Meghan, as if daring him to say no.
“I need to speak with her and see if she thinks this is recommended.”
“Why? I asked her to come, and she said she would think about it. I assume she will think about it and come if it’s all cool.”
“Meghan, this is something that needs to be considered.”
“Why? Do you think you have to decide everything?”
“It’s not...”
“Well, I can decide this for myself, and Dr. Jackson can decide this for herself, too. You don’t get to run everybody’s life.”
“Watch your tone, young lady,” he snapped, and regretted it immediately.
This was why he didn’t do the whole hands-on parenting thing. He really wasn’t very good at it.
“I'll call her and tell her that she's welcome to join us if she would like to. Is that fine?”
Meghan shrugged, avoiding his eyes. Dave big back an oath. Really, he'd offered an olive branch there, hadn’t he? Why couldn’t she just take it?
“Fine.” She turned away from him.
“Meg.”
Dave tried to find words that wouldn’t make things worse.
Meghan stood there, her back to him, her shoulders so stiff. She looked so brittle, so breakable. It had been a long time since he hadn't felt that sheer, overwhelming fear that he was ruining everything, that he would break her because he didn’t know any better.
He wasn’t good at this.
Abby was supposed to be there.
“I'm glad that you're comfortable enough with Dr. Jackson to want her to be here for the celebration. I still want to call her and make sure that she doesn't feel obliged to break any plans she might have with her friends and family for our sake.”
“You mean you don’t want her to break her plans for me.”
Meghan still didn’t turn around.
“It wouldn’t be fair to expect...”
She glanced back at him over her shoulder.
“Don’t explain, dad. Why would you consider that maybe somebody wants to break their plans to spend time with me because I want them around? I’m sure you can’t understand that maybe, just maybe, I’m as important as other plans.”
“Meghan!”
“You have work. Sorry I disturbed you. As always.”
She walked away, leaving him to his work and his thoughts, knowing that if she truly felt like she wasn't a priority for him, he'd screwed up.
He had really screwed up.
Chapter 5
Dave took a deep breath. He needed it to fortify himself as he stood in front of the building where Dr. Tamara Jackson had her office. He’d been there once before, of course, but that had been necessary.
This was...
Well, he supposed this was necessary, too. It was just a lot more uncomfortable.
He’d put it off long enough. That in itself had made him uncomfortable enough to finally make him do it.
Dave walked up the three flights of stairs in the old building because the stairwells had windows and it was a nice morning. It was quite early—just after eight—and he only knew that Dr. Jackson got to the office that early on Thursdays because she’d scheduled Meghan for an early session the week before.
Dave took another deep breath outside her door, feeling slightly ridiculous because he had butterflies in his stomach. He was a grown man who ran a multi-billion-dollar company without batting an eye, for heaven’s sake. He couldn’t be nervous about this!
She was probably in there, sitting at the window seat that Meghan loved, having a cup of tea and going through her notes or whatever it was that she did. She was probably in one of those cool, elegant linen suits she seemed to like wearing, tailored and perfect, in strong colors that made her look like she was completely in control of everything. Her hair would be perfect, her makeup tasteful, and everything about her made him wonder what she’d look like if her hair was mussed up a little and that lipstick smudged more than a little from his mouth.
It was just a physical reaction. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a physical response to a woman since Abby. He was human, and he had normal human functions, including that. He was also old enough to know when it would be completely inappropriate to indulge himself, of course.
Besides, she didn’t look like the kind of woman who would be entirely receptive to something like that.
More’s the pity. Thinking of her being receptive would do something about those damn butterflies.
He was stalling. The very idea was mortifying.
He knocked.
He waited.
He waited a whole thirty seconds, which was twenty-five seconds longer than he was accustomed to waiting anywhere, and then he knocked again.
Impatient, he gave it another ten seconds before trying the door and, finding it unlocked, pushing it open. He stepped in, looked around and found the reception empty, and walked in, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.
There was nobody at reception. Normal enough, he figured. That assistant of hers probably turned up at normal working hours. Tamara Jackson was not the kind of woman who let things like normal working hours get in the way of her work. Dave respected that. He appreciated a work ethic like steel.
He hesitated. She was probably with a patient. Client, he decided, correcting himself. He didn’t like the idea of calling Meg a patient so he would call them all clients.
But the curiosity was strong in him. Without a trace of shame, he walked to the door and listened, all but pressing his ear to the door.
She was definitely there. He could hear her voice. It didn’t sound quite as cool and modulated as it usually did when she talked to him, tinged with disapproval as it always seemed to be. She sounded almost agitated, even if he couldn’t make out the words.
The door wasn’t completely closed. The lock hadn’t clicked closed all the way. A slight push, which perhaps could be blamed on a strong gust of wind even if the windows weren’t open, but perhaps caused by the main door opening, would explain it away if the door happened to fall open.
A gentle nudge and the door opened a crack.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, dad. Please, listen to me. I really don’t think it’s time for Tricia to meet the family.”
Silence.
“Daddy, please. I met her, and I’m family.”
More silence.
“Please don’t do this to mama. Please think about this. Daddy, please think about this. A few more weeks will make no difference, will it? It will make no difference, I will talk to mama and try and soften things. Please give me some time.”
Silence, a soft sigh, and no more words.
Dave decided he was going to back off. It was obviously a bad time.
“Come in.”
Dave paused.
Well, he’d been caught. There was no point pretending he hadn’t heard.
He pushed the door open some more and stepped inside.
The good doctor looked so fragile as she clutched the phone hard enough to make her knuckles threaten to pop out, sitting at that window seat without a hint of the relaxation that it was probably supposed to evoke.
She looked as tense as a coiled spring, and as fiercely controlled.
“Sorry to intrude. It’s a bad time.”
“For you?”
Dave shook his head.
“You don’t want to have a conversation now, not with me.”
Tamara raised an amused eyebrow.
“Don’t I? Well, does it matter? You’re here, and so am I, so we might as well have that conversation that you obviously believe is important to have, Mr. Wilson.”
“Dave, please. Meg told me that she invited you to our party.”
She nodded.
“We’d be happy to have you, but I hope you don’t feel pressured to come, either.”
Damn it, why did his words sound so inadequate?
Why did he feel so clumsy, as if his tongue had thickened?
“Are you trying to drop a hint that you’d find it preferable if I turned out to be busy?”
Dave shook his head. How was it, he wondered, that he could tell all the people who worked for him exactly what he wanted from them without any misunderstandings or miscommunications, but he couldn’t find the right words or the right way to say them with his own daughter or her therapist?
“We would be happy if you could make it. But many people have Fourth of July traditions. I’m sure Meg would agree that it would be unfair if you felt pressured to break whatever tradition you might have to be with us.”
A small smile, just a hint of it. Maybe he’d finally chosen the right words.
“Well, then, thank you for your consideration, but I would like to come.”
“Oh.”
His mind went blank.
So, that was that. She would be there. Dr. Tamara Jackson would be at his home for Fourth of July.
There was no reason why it should leave him feeling a little shaken.
“You look surprised.”
“I am. It’s...”
“Meg needs to feel valued. You should tell her that you came here to invite me personally. It will make her feel valued. She obviously is, it’s the truth.”
“I... Well, maybe. We had a bit of a disagreement about it.”
A pause, too many words unsaid, and he didn’t think he would’ve liked any of them if they’d been said out loud, either.
“You did?”
“She’s not happy about it. She’s not happy.”
A slight incline of the head as if considering his words, making him feel a bit as if he was waiting for the principal again, except this time he was a bit worried.
“She will be, I hope. But you’re listening to her. That’s an improvement, isn’t it? You’re paying attention. It’s more than she had before.”
“She’s never lacked for anything.”
“Maybe we’re doomed to agree to disagree about that.”
“Maybe. Maybe we’ll find out tomorrow.”
She smiled, and Dave nearly gasped at how his heart beat faster. Disturbing, unexpected.
Shit.
It wasn’t that she was beautiful. She was, of course, those cheekbones, the perfectly shaped eyes, the glowing skin. But he was used to beautiful women. His world could be filled with beautiful women any time he pleased.
Over 40 And Head Over Heels: BWWM, Over 40's, Billionaire Romance (BWWM Romance Book 1) Page 5