“I’m Calista. I live across the street.” She pointed to the gutted house. “Well, I used to live there. I remember your mom and I’m sorry about your grandmother. She and my mother were friends for years. How awful for you to find her.”
“Yes. It was.” She sobbed, her eyes shiny from unshed tears.
Calista wanted to pull her in for a hug, dry her tears, and feed her a hot meal. All these maternal urges surging through her made her crazy. To hell with it. She gave into the urge and hugged the girl. “I’m here for you. What hospital are they taking her to? I’m going to check up on you and your grandmother tomorrow.”
“Would you? Oh, thank you so much.” Tears tracked down her pale cheeks.
Julius was beside her, his hand possessive on the small of her back. “The ambulance is ready to go.”
“Alright.” Calista allowed him to lead her back to the car. Before she crossed the street, the ambulance was already on the way, sirens blaring.
“She was so young. To have this happen. I don’t know if she’s gonna be okay. Oh God! I didn’t get her name. These damned hormones are making me crazy.” Calista shook her head. “I think we should—”
“Go home.” Julius pulled her into his arms and signaled for Edwards to drive. “You need to rest and that’s exactly what you’re going home to do.”
Settled against his chest, warmth flowed around and inside of her. For once, Calista didn’t argue and let him whisk her away. She’d track Mrs. Connell’s granddaughter down tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
T omorrow didn’t happen. Calista woke with a one hundred and one fever. 7:00 a.m. her doctor made a house call. She had the flu. Tylenol, bed rest, and fluids. The baby was fine.
Pregnancy was not for the faint of heart. Men couldn’t do this shit, not the pregnancy and not the labor. Julius hovered, as did Rebecca. Laverne FaceTimed. Bringing a virus back to the beach house was a bad idea. Calista spent five days alternating between the bed and a chaise watching Julius put the crib together. He insisted. It had turned into a group effort with Scotts and Edwards pitching in. Sunny’s version of constructive criticism had nearly got him fired. In the end, the crib was done. And the furniture was placed precisely where she wanted. All that was left was the bedding and decorations, which she would do a bit closer to her delivery date.
“I want to check on Mrs. Connell and her granddaughter,” she said on Christmas Eve. This was the first day she actually felt like herself. So much so, she did a ten mile powerwalk on the treadmill, followed by light weights. She had no intention of letting herself go just because she was pregnant.
“I already did. She’s still in a coma.”
Damn. “And the granddaughter?”
“Missed her, though the nurse said she’d been there earlier.”
“Did you get her name?” At the time, with the ambulance and police, Calista forgot to ask.
“Billie. Short for Belinda,” he said.
It suited her. “Did she seem fragile to you?”
Julius looked up from his laptop. She’d invaded his office and made herself comfortable on the leather sofa while going through the notes from Bryn Co.’s last board meeting in preparation for the upcoming meeting after the new year. A meeting that had been postponed because of her illness. This wasn’t the first time this evening she’d interrupted him. And it wouldn’t be the last.
“No. I did not notice.” His tone was curt. “I left a contact number for her to call if she needed anything,” he said, cutting off her next question.
Calista pushed away the file and left her very comfy spot on the sofa to go to her man. Without protest, he pushed away from his desk and made room for her to scoot onto his lap. She settled her rear on his soft cock. It had been a few days since they’d indulged. She would remedy that later.
“You’re tense. Outside of the obvious, why? What’s going on?”
He rubbed her belly. Jewel responded with a flutter of movement that made her father smile, but the grim set to his jaw returned. “It’s too quiet.”
“Ah.” She didn’t disagree.
“Something’s going to happen.”
“That’s a bit cryptic.”
He closed his laptop and instead of looking at her, he gave his attention to the Manhattan skyline and the inky ribbon of the Hudson River beyond. “I’m not claiming to be psychic, but it’s in the air. Four weeks since Thanksgiving and we’re waiting, on the defensive, instead of offensive. It’s not working. Emmet is deep cover. Lynda and Alezandar are out there living while we hide.”
He wasn’t wrong, but she had nothing to counter with other than, “We’re not hiding.” His penetrating glare called her a liar. “Hiding has its value.” She captured his face and pressed her forehead to his. “When done with a purpose. There’s no greater purpose than what’s in this room and who we have in this house. Everything we love is here. Me, you, our baby, your brother, my mother. I have no problem hiding if it keeps everyone safe. I’d hide in a cave if it meant we were all safe and I could be with you.”
His kiss was deep, his hands gentle on the curve of her neck and belly. “This stalemate can’t go on forever, but we can. We will. We’re stronger,” he murmured into her mouth.
“That we are.” She rocked on his lap and felt a stirring beneath her rear. Later was right now.
His hands stilled her. “Oh, I would love to continue this, but you have one hour to get ready.”
She reared back and studied him. “Get ready for what?”
He winked. “One hour and you will find out.” He hoisted her onto her feet and with a slap to her ass, sent her off.
Men. Did get ready mean wear yoga pants and a tee, or something silky and a pair of six-inch heels? She chose a happy medium and decided on a pair of black maternity slacks and a white sweater. Pausing in front of the dressing room mirror, she adjusted the band of the maternity pants over her bump, distinctly aware of her roundness. Nothing she could do about that. Instead of worrying about her waistline, she fluffed her hair, and checked her lipstick one last time.
“Stop. You’re perfect.” He startled her, which earned him a scowl. “You’re beautiful.”
Liar. “Telling your pregnant fiancée she’s beautiful is a requirement for the species survival.”
His grin was enough to blind her. Dressed in charcoal slacks and blue open collar cashmere sweater, he was beautiful and all hers. He was right to leave when she got dressed in the mornings. It was the only way to guarantee they wouldn’t end up back in bed. She was insatiable. Once in the morning. Twice or more during the night. She had no complaints with their living arrangements. Maybe it was the hormones flooding her system. Either way, she wasn’t complaining. Hell, so far, she liked being pregnant. Wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again. Maybe even a fourth time. Hell, she’d field his own football team if his stamina held.
He closed the distance between them. His arm naturally went around her waist bringing her to his side. His free hand went to her bump.
“Do you like football?” she asked.
His brow quirked and he buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply. “Yeah. I’m a Giants fan. Why?”
“No reason.” She giggled when his breath teased her neck.
“I don’t believe you, but okay.” He flicked his tongue against her pulse and eased back to meet her gaze. “I have a gift for you.”
“Gift, huh? It’s Christmas Eve. Not Christmas.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, intrigued.
“We had a family tradition of opening one gift on Christmas Eve. Usually you get to choose the gift. Tonight, I took the liberty of choosing for you.”
“Wait. Does that mean I have more than one gift?” she asked with an adorable lilt to her voice.
He retrieved the white satin box from his back pocket. Her eyes widened as it emerged. The box was long and rectangular.
“What is it?” she asked, fear and excitement layering her voice.
“Hold out your hand
s.” He commanded. Like a child on Christmas Day, she obeyed without comment, yet visibly trembled. He balanced the box on her outstretched hands and tortured them both by not giving in and opening it right away. Her nervous gaze darted between the box and him. “No man has ever given you a present before?”
“Yes. But I suspect the box is worth more than any gift I’ve received from anyone. Open it, already. I’m dying here,” she half pleaded, half demanded.
Julius released the gold clasp and the box sprung open. Calista’s jaw dropped and her breaths came in little bursts. Oh my God. A teardrop black diamond necklace cushioned with white diamonds. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, and matched the earrings her father had left in the safety deposit box.
Julius slid the necklace free of its confines. She lifted the heavy weight of her hair off her shoulders, and hissed when the cold stones touched her skin. With a click, they collared her throat and quickly warmed under their combined touch.
“Julius.” His name was no more than a wispy squawk as her fingers glided over the diamonds glittering against her skin. She spun to the mirror, her eyes wide as saucers. “I can’t… It’s…”
“Not as lovely as you. Now, for the second gift.”
“But-But what about the one gift rule?”
He ignored her and took her hand. Together they left the master suite and entered the hallway. She heard voices, confused them for the staff and the bodyguards until Laverne’s distinctive laugh echoed. She found them in the living room in front of the tree, laughing and drinking. Her entire family was here. Even her mother in a wheelchair, smiling serenely with Allie on her lap and Jentry hovering.
“Thank you.” It wasn’t enough, but it was all she had to give. “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “Never thank me for making you happy. Go be with your family.” He nudged her toward them and turned away.
Calista latched onto his arm. “You are my family and you’re not going anywhere but right here.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
G ood food. Excellent wine. Family, friends, loved ones, laughter, fun, gifts for all. This was contentment and she basked in it as she kept watch on Joshua, making sure, this time, he kept his dick in his pants.
Julius’ phone chirped. “Damn it.”
She wanted to tell him to ignore it, but it could be important. It could be news that Karpovilov was dead and they were safe. A girl could hope.
“It’s an incoming voicemail from my business phone from the contractor.”
“The contractor on my house?” What could he want on Christmas Eve when she’d given the entire crew the week off?
His voice came through the speaker. “Mr. Morgan. It’s Adam Wetherly. I’ve got some bad news. Ms. Coleman’s house, it’s on fire.”
Calista was on her feet and headed for the door when Julius hauled her back and shoved her onto the chair they’d vacated. His arms were the only thing that kept her there. “I’m going.” She struggled against him.
“You’re staying with your family and I’m going.”
“The hell I am!”
“A few hours ago, I said something was going to happen. Felt it in my bones. Here it is and you’re going to stay here. Where it’s safe.”
“Now you’re psychic?”
Laverne appeared next to them. “Hey, if you two are fighting, take it in the bedroom.”
“Stay out of this, Laverne.”
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “They’re drawing us into a trap.”
“What trap? What are you two talking about?” Laverne wouldn’t go away.
Calista rounded on her cousin. “Mom’s house is on fire and I’m going with him.” She turned back to Julius. “Don’t you see. They’re separating us. That’s why we’re all going together. The three of us. Me, you, and Joshua while everyone else goes home. The party’s over.” Slowly, her reasoning sunk in, the logic of it taking root. “They can’t kidnap Joshua if we’re all standing next to him. They can’t risk killing us in front of the police, who will definitely be at the scene of a fire. They didn’t set a fire in an isolated field in bumfuck nowhere.”
“They set a fire in Queens, New York.” Julius took her hand. “Road trip,” Julius shouted.
Joshua jumped like he was goosed and launched himself from the dining table where he was working on his third helping. “Where are we going? Doesn’t matter. I’ll be ready in ten.”
“You have five,” Julius shouted at Joshua’s fleeing back. “Get everyone we can spare.” He ordered. “We’re going to Queens.”
Calista kissed Laverne and promised to call her as soon as she knew anything. It felt like forever to get to their destination. In reality, the ride was short. Pre-Christmas traffic was light for New York City. Joshua had diarrhea of the mouth. He talked about anything and everything like a five-year-old high on candy on a field trip to Disney World. “Where are we going?” morphed into “Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”
Calista ignored him as memories floated to the surface of her brain. Standing on the stair while her mother took picture after picture of her in her blue prom dress. The first time she made dinner all by herself. It was Mother’s Day and she was twelve and so proud of the baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and broccoli she’d pulled off. Yeah, the chicken was unseasoned and pink near the bone, but her mother didn’t complain. She cut off the parts that were done and pretended it was a Michelin star meal. Other memories flitted through her brain. Most sweet, some bitter. The house deserved more memories, more laughter and love, more joy and sorrow, more births and more deaths after long-lived lives.
Two blocks away, she rolled down the window and the acrid scent of smoke drifted into the car. Please don’t let it be too bad. Please let it be a small fire, something inconsequential. Something she could fix, restore, replace. Please don’t let it be a pile of ash like my mother’s mind.
That prayer was dashed when the car made a right onto her street. Two fire engines and three police cars blocked the road. The car couldn’t get closer than the second house on the street. Calista didn’t wait for Julius to tell her no. She climbed out the second the car stopped. Julius must’ve predicted her move because he was right behind her, along with the rest of them. Two carloads of bodyguards. They surrounded her. She didn’t notice. She only had eyes for the fire. Not one blaze, but three. Her house, the house that had sheltered her from the storm and where all her dreams had been born, was engulfed in flames. The houses on either side burned too.
All her mother had worked for. Gone.
She couldn’t even cry. It was too cold. She was too cold, on the inside where it counted. At least her mother would never know because this would break her heart.
“Let’s go home.” Julius swiped his thumbs across her wet cheeks. “We’ll rebuild. Out of the ashes, we will build something new.”
He was right, but it was too much to process and she was too numb to care. She didn’t fight him on the return to the car, allowing him to shepherd her through the crowd of hanger-ons.
“Psst!” As a group they all shifted toward the sound. It was Billie hiding in the shadow of a firetruck. She signaled for them to follow her. Calista looked at Julius who shrugged and nodded at Edwards to follow.
Billie threaded her way through the police, looky-loos, hoses snaking the street, and firefighters. Back to the Connell’s she went, which was a dark, sad edifice on a street with enough light to brighten the dark side of the moon. She opened the little rusted gate and ushered them onto the cracked cement walkway parting the two patches of dead grass and up to the front door. She opened it to an even darker interior.
No one moved. Going into an unknown, unlit space. Nope.
Jittery, like the Energizer Bunny on speed, Billie couldn’t keep still, but Calista didn’t get the sense she was on something. More like she was afraid of something, or someone.
Eyes darting left to right, then settled on Calista before darting away. “I
saw them.”
“Who?” Calista demanded.
“The people who burned your fucking house down. I fucking saw them. Two big dudes. I was upstairs eating dinner in the bedroom because the streetlight illuminates the room better there.”
Scotts produced a light and stepped into the house. Sunny and Edwards followed, then Julius. Only then was Calista allowed inside. Edwards signaled Sunny and Scotts to head deeper into the house and directed another set of bodyguards upstairs.
Calista couldn’t see much, but what she managed to catch in the flickering beams of light was a house in disarray. Mrs. Connell was a hoarder. Stacks of newspapers, magazines, and books filled the living room. If it was this bad at the front of the house, God knows how bad the rest was. Calista had no intention of discovering.
“Are you living here? With no power?” Calista couldn’t accept that.
“Um.” Billie ducked her head and shuffled back and forth. “Yeah. I didn’t have money for the electric bill. It’s fine. I’m okay.”
No, she wasn’t okay. None of this was okay.
“Sorry, I’m not much of a housekeeper,” Billie mumbled.
“Neither am I.” Calista tried to put her at ease.
“My grandmother was too sick, and I spent most of my time caring for her.”
This was decades of hoarding, not a couple of months of sickness. “No judgment zone.”
“Clear.” Came from upstairs and the rear of the house.
“Tell me again what you saw.” Julius demanded.
“Like I said, two guys, in leather coats. They pulled up in a white Escalade. Parked next to the dumpster, got out with one of those red gas tanks and went inside. They didn’t give a shit who saw them ’cause they weren’t sneaking around. But I didn’t see anyone around with it being so cold out. I hid. Peeked out the window and watched.” She chewed her thumbnail which already was a nub. “Did I do wrong?”
Plain and the Billionaire's Seduction (Plain Jane Series Book 3) Page 21