Bound by a Child

She’d married instead for love, and they’d lived a quiet little life in the Temecula Valley—two hours away from Los Angeles, but really a world apart.

Allan heard a rap on the window of his Jaguar XF and looked up to see his butler, Michael Fawkes, standing there. The fifty-seven-year-old former middleweight boxer had been in his employ since he’d inked his first multimillion-dollar deal for Playtone. Fawkes was a great guy and looked a little bit like Mickey Rourke.

“Are you okay, sir?”

Allan took his keys from the ignition and climbed out of the car. “Yes, Fawkes, I am. But John McCoy was killed in a car accident. I’m leaving tomorrow to fly to the Outer Banks to help make funeral arrangements and see to his daughter.”

“My condolences, sir. I liked Mr. McCoy,” Fawkes said.

“Everyone liked him,” Allan said.

“Shall I accompany you?” Fawkes asked.

“Yes. I need you to make sure we have accommodation in Hatteras. I think we should be able to stay at the B and B that John and Patti own...owned,” he said, turning away from Fawkes. “Give me a minute.”

Jessi would probably have a hard time booking a flight to North Carolina at this hour, and it wasn’t a big town they were flying into. For a moment he rejected the idea of making an offer to let her fly with him. But then he knew he had to at least reach out to her. She was truly the only other person who felt the way he did right now.

As much as she irritated him, and though it irked him to admit it, he needed her. She made him feel as if he wasn’t dealing with John’s death alone.

“Please include Ms. Chandler in our arrangements,” Allan said.

“Really?” Fawkes asked in a surprised tone of voice. Jessi did her best to rattle the butler whenever they came into contact.

“Yes. I was with her when she got the news. She’s as affected by this as we both are.”

Allan pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and texted her.

I’m taking the jet to North Carolina in the morning. Want a lift?

Jessi’s response was immediate. Thanks. I’d appreciate that. Are you leaving tonight? I’ve made arrangements with the funeral home to talk about Patti’s service in the morning. If we go tonight I can talk to them in person.

I had thought to leave tomorrow but given that we are going to lose three hours perhaps tonight is best.

I thought so.

Can you be packed and ready in two hours?

Of course. TTYL

“Very well, sir. I shall make all the arrangements,” Fawkes said when he learned of the plan. “When are we leaving?”

“Two hours,” Allan said.

He left his assistant and headed to his den, where he poured himself a stiff Scotch and then went over to his recliner to call his cousins. But there was a knock on the door before he could dial.

“Come in,” he called.

Kell and Dec entered the room. They looked somber, and he realized that though John was his best friend, both his cousins had counted John as their friend, as well.

“We came as soon as we heard,” Dec said. He stood in the doorway looking awkward.

“Thanks. I’m leaving tonight. I don’t expect the trip to take more than a week. Jessi is coming with me, Kell. I think we might have to adjust some of her deadlines,” Allan said. Even if she was his most irritating adversary, he had to help her out now. He’d seen her broken and he shared her pain.

“We can discuss business later. When will the funeral be?”

“I don’t know. I have to talk to the funeral home once we get to North Carolina. John only had a few distant cousins. I won’t know what kind of arrangements they might have already made until I’m on the ground there. I might end up in charge of the planning. And then there is Patti to consider. I know that Jessi is arranging her service.”

“Just let us know and we’ll fly out for it,” Dec said. “Do you need anything?”

He shook his head. What could he say? For once he was at a loss for words. “I’ve got this,” he finally said.

“Of course you do, but he was our friend, too,” Dec said. Allan saw a quiet understanding in his cousin’s eyes as he looked over at him.

Falling in love had changed the other man. He wasn’t as distant as he’d always been.

“I don’t know how else to handle this except to plan and take control,” Allan admitted.

“That’s the only way,” Kell said. “We’ll leave you to it.”

Dec glanced quickly at him again as he followed Kell out. When his cousins were gone, Allan fell back on the large, battered brown sofa that didn’t quite fit with the decor in the elegant and luxuriously appointed room. The couch had major sentimental value—John and Allan had purchased this piece at a garage sale for their first college apartment.

He put the heels of his hands over his eyes, pushing as hard as he could until he saw stars and there were no more tears.

“Another Scotch, sir?”

Allan dropped his hands and glanced up at his butler. Fawkes was standing there with a glass in one hand. “No. I’m going to pack and then get ready to head to the airport.”

“Yes, sir,” Fawkes said. “I have already arranged the accommodations. I’ve been tracking the weather, as well.... There might be a situation.”

“What kind of situation?”

“Tropical storm in the Atlantic, but it’s not predicted to head toward North Carolina. Just keeping my eye on it.”

“Thanks, Fawkes.”

Allan walked away and forced his mind to the task at hand. There was no reason why he couldn’t get through his best friend’s death the way he handled everything else. He’d manage and take control of the situation.

* * *

For once, Jessi’s sharp tongue was dulled by Allan’s generous offer to let her ride on his jet to the Outer Banks with him. Or maybe it was all the talk of funerals making her numb. As soon as she finished texting, she turned to put her phone on the hall table and found herself staring at a photo of Patti on the wall.

Jessi’s heart hurt and she started to cry. She missed Patti. She missed the talks they wouldn’t have. She longed to be able to pick up the phone and call her again. But that couldn’t happen.

She sank to the floor, wrapped her arms around her waist and just sat there, trying to pretend that the news wasn’t true. She didn’t want to imagine her world without Patti. Granted, she had her sisters, but Patti was the person who knew her best. They’d gotten into trouble together since the second grade. What was she going to do now?

There was a knock on the door and she stared at it before forcing herself to her feet and wiping her face on her sleeve. Then she took a quick look at herself in the mirror.

Pitiful. Suck it, up, Jess. No one likes a crybaby.

“Coming,” she called, but took a moment to wipe off the smudges that the combination of her tears and her heavy eyeliner had made on her face.

“We came as soon as we heard,” Emma said when Jessi answered the ringing doorbell. Their youngest sister was there, too. Both women had their children with them. Emma’s three-year-old Sam was holding his mother’s hand, and twenty-one-month-old D.J. was sleeping quietly in Cari’s arms.

“I didn’t think you guys would get here so fast,” Jessi said.

“Dec heard about it from Allan,” Cari said, crossing the threshold and giving Jessi a one-armed hug. Jessi wrapped her own arms around her sister and nephew and held them close. Emma shut the door and joined the group hug.

Jessi felt the sting of tears once more, but choked them back. Though it was okay to let loose with her sisters, she didn’t want to start crying again. Tears weren’t going to bring Patti and John back. Tears weren’t going to do anything helpful.

“What can we do?” Emma asked.

“I’m not sure. The funeral will have to be arranged, and then there is Hannah....”

“What about her?”

“Allan and I are her godparents. I agreed to it because Patti asked. But I’m not good with babies. You both know this. I’m just—” Jessi abruptly stopped talking. She wasn’t going to admit to her sisters that she had no idea what to do next. For only the second time in her life she was lost. Lost. It was a place she’d vowed to never let herself be again.

Emma wrapped her arms around her again and for a minute Jessi was seven and her big sister’s hug could fix all her problems. She hugged her sister back and took comfort from her before gathering herself and stepping away.

“I’m okay.”

Cari looked skeptical, but was too nice to say anything. Emma just watched her, and finally Jessi turned on her heel and walked toward her bedroom. She could tell one of her sisters was following her, but didn’t turn around to see who. If it was Cari, that would be fine. Cari would just accept whatever Jessi said and leave it be. But Em. Em had seen her share of heartbreak and had dealt with grief when she’d lost her young husband. Emma would be harder to keep her true feelings from.

“What bag are you taking?” Cari asked as she entered the bedroom without D.J.

Jessi breathed a sigh of relief and pretended it wasn’t tinged with disappointment. She could have used a little of Emma’s meddling right now. Something to rebel against instead of Cari’s kindness.

“I don’t know how long we’ll be gone,” Jessi said. “I need to leave some notes for my assistant, Marcel. My job is still on the line.”

“Even Kell can’t be that heartless. He’ll give you some more time,” Cari said. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

She nodded at her sister, but at this moment was too numb to get worked up about it. Patti was dead. That dominated every thought Jessi had.

“How about if I pack for you,” Cari said. “You go talk to Marcel. Get everything sorted out before you leave.”

“Thanks, Cari.”

Her pretty blonde sister looked as if she was going to cry. For a minute, as Jessi gazed at her, with her neat preppy skirt, her tucked-in blouse and her hair in that high ponytail, she envied her. Cari had seen some rough times—giving birth to her son on her own after the father had abandoned her—but she’d found her own strength. That was what Jessi needed right now.

Work wasn’t a solace for her the way that it had been for Emma when her husband died. And Jessi’s personal life... Well, without Patti she didn’t know what she was going to do.

She left her bedroom without another word, avoiding the living room, where she heard Emma talking to Sam and D.J. After listening a moment, Jessi made her way to her home office.

It was decorated with sleek modern furniture in bright primary colors. She sat down on her desk chair and opened her laptop to start sending emails.

As her system loaded messages and sorted them into different folders, she noticed the file labeled Patti had a new message. For some reason it hadn’t downloaded to her phone, maybe because she’d turned off email during her meeting at the Playtone offices earlier in the day. As she reached for her phone and adjusted the settings, she started to cry. This would be the last message from Patti.

Jessi looked back at her laptop screen and hovered the cursor over the folder, afraid to open it. But after taking a deep breath, she clicked her mouse and read the email.

Can’t wait to see you in two weeks. Here’s a quick picture of Hannah. She’s teething and that means her first tooth! And you, dear godmother, have to buy her a pair of shoes—according to my great-aunt Berthe. Hope everything is ok at work. I just know that you will figure it all out. Call me later.

Take care,

Patti

A photo of Hannah’s little face filled the bottom of the screen. She had her fist in her mouth, there was a drool on her lips and she looked out from the picture with Patti’s eyes. Jessi’s heart clenched and her stomach roiled as she realized that her dear friend wasn’t going to see that first tooth come in.

Since her door was closed and no one could witness it, she leaned her head on the desk and let herself cry.

* * *

As the plane lifted off, Allan watched Jessi put her earbuds in and turn away from him toward the window. To say that she wasn’t herself was an absolute understatement. The woman who’d always irritated him was positively subdued. A shadow of her normal self. He saw her wipe away a tear in the reflection from the glass.

He knew it was none of his business. He owed Jessi next to nothing, and she was entitled to her grief. In fact, he understood completely how she felt, but a part of him wanted to needle her. Wanted to jar her and force her out of her funk so she could irritate him and he’d be able to forget. The last thing he wanted to do was spend a cross-country flight with his own thoughts.

Not right now when he was wondering why a confirmed bachelor was still alive and a family man with everything to live for was dead. God knew that Allan wasn’t religious, and something like this just reinforced his belief that there definitely wasn’t a higher force in the world. There was no fairness to John dying when he had so much to live for.

Allan looked around the cabin. He’d bought the G6 jet when Playtone had signed their first multibillion-dollar contract, and he didn’t regret it. If there was one thing he prized in this life it was his own comfort. The cream-colored leather chairs had more than enough room for him to stretch out his six-foot, five-inch frame. He did so now, deliberately knocking over Jessi’s expensive-looking leather bag in the process.

She glanced at him with one eyebrow arched and picked up the bag without removing her earbuds. She leaned her head back against the seat and a lock of her short ebony hair slid down over her eye. He had touched her hair once. It was cool and soft. He’d tangled his hand in it as he’d kissed her at John and Patti’s wedding, behind the balustrade, out of the way of prying eyes.

Like everything between the two of them, he’d meant the kiss to be a game of one-upmanship, to shock her, but it hadn’t worked. It had rocked him to his foundations, because there’d been a spark of something more in that one kiss. How was it that his archnemesis could turn him on like no other woman could?

He nudged her bag and she took her earbuds off as she turned to him and stared. Her gaze was glacial, as if he wasn’t worth her attention.

“What’s your problem?” she asked.

“Can’t get comfortable,” he said.

She glanced around at the six other empty seats before turning her chocolate-brown eyes back at him. “Really? Looks like you could stretch out and not bother me if you wanted to. So I ask again, what’s your problem?”

“Maybe I want to bother you.”

“Of course you do. What’s the matter, Allan, finally found the one thing your money can’t buy?” she asked.

“And what would that be?” he retorted. In his experience there wasn’t much money couldn’t afford him. Granted, it wasn’t going to bring John back, but there was nothing that could stop death. And hadn’t he learned that at an early age, anyway, when his mother had been the victim of a botched surgery?

“Peace of mind,” Jessi said, swiveling her chair to face him and leaning forward so that the material of her blouse gaped and afforded him a glimpse of her cleavage.

She said something else, but all he could concentrate on was her body. Though she dressed in that funky style of hers she always looked well put together and feminine. And he couldn’t help but recall the way she’d felt in his arms at John and Patti’s wedding.

Dammit, man, enough. She’s the enemy and it’s just grief making her seem irresistible.

“I’ll grant you that. Though I do find that my peace of mind is enhanced by the things I buy,” he said.

“Me, too,” she admitted.

“What do you want to buy right now?” he asked. He had already decided to order himself a Harley-Davidson, which he and John had been talking about buying when they turned thirty-five. Now that John was gone, Allan wasn’t going to wait any longer. Life was too short.

“Nothing,” she said. “I usually splurge on travel, and Patti was my...” She turned her chair to face forward.

“Not talking about her isn’t going to make your grief any easier,” he said softly.

She shrugged. “You’re right. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be able to think about this rationally, but tonight...I can’t.”

“Why?”

She turned to give him one of her you’re-an-idiot-glares. “Seriously?”

“I don’t want to sit in silence for the next few hours. I keep thinking about John and Patti and how the last time I saw them both...”

“Me, too,” Jessi said. “I can’t stop. I remember how you and I were fighting, and Patti asked me to try to get along.”

She stopped talking and turned away again to wipe a tear from her eye.

“John said the same thing to me. He even went so far as to mention that you weren’t too bad,” Allan said.

She shook her head. “I liked him. He was good for Patti and he loved her, you know?”

“He certainly seemed to.” John had spent a lot of time talking about Patti, and Allan believed his friend loved her. But Allan had never experienced any emotions like that so it was a little hard to believe love existed.

“Seemed to? Don’t you believe he loved her?” Jessi asked.

“I think he thought he did. But I’m not sure that love is real. I think it’s something we all come up with to assure ourselves we’re not alone.”

She turned in her seat and arched both eyebrows as she leaned forward. “Even you can’t be that cynical.”

He shrugged. He didn’t get the love thing between a man and a woman. He’d seen people do a lot of things out of “love” and not one of them had been altruistic or all that great. And his own experiences with the emotion had been haphazard at best.

Especially since he’d become a very wealthy man. Women seemed to fall for him instantly, and as Jessi would be the first to point out, he wasn’t that charming. It made it very hard for him to trust them. But to be honest he’d always had trust issues. How could you believe in love when so many people did things for love that weren’t all that nice?

“But you’re always dating,” she said. “Why do that if you don’t believe in love and finding the one to spend the rest of your life with?”

“Sex,” he said bluntly.

“How clichéd,” she replied. “And typically male.”

“Like your attitude isn’t typically female? It’s true I like women for sex. And companionship. I enjoy having them around, but love? That’s never entered into the picture,” he said.

“Maybe because you’d have to put someone else first,” she suggested.

“I’m capable of doing that,” he said, thinking of his friendship with John, but also his relationship with his cousins. He would go to them in the middle of the night if they called. Hence this cross-country red-eye to settle John’s affairs. “What about you? You don’t really strike me as a romantic.”

“I’m not,” she said. “But I do believe in love. I’ve got the heartbreak to prove that falling in love is real.”

“Who broke your heart?” he asked. It was the first time in the five years he’d known her that she’d admitted to anything this personal. And he found himself unable to look away. Unable to stop the tide of emotions running through him as he stared at her. Who had hurt her and why did it suddenly matter to him?

“Some dick,” she said.

He almost smiled because she sounded more angry than brokenhearted. “Tell me more.”

“That’s none of your business, Allan. Just trust me. If you ever let yourself be real instead of throwing around money and buying yourself trophy girlfriends, you’d find love.”

He doubted it. “You think so? Is that how it happened for you?”

“Nah, I was too young and thought lust was love,” she said. “Happy?”

“Not really,” he said. “If you haven’t experienced real love why are you so convinced it exists?”

“John and Patti. I’ve never met two people more in love. And as much as it pains me to admit it, your cousin Dec seems to be in love with my sister.”

“They are borderline cutesy with all that hand-holding and kissing.”

And just like that, she’d turned the tables and made him realize the truth of what she was saying. John was one of the few people he’d genuinely cared for, but they’d been friends for a long time, way before Allan had made his fortune and started running with the moneyed crowd. He didn’t want to admit that maybe Jessi was right, but a part of him knew she was.

Three

She’d turned away after that conversation and he’d let her. Really talking about love with Allan wasn’t something Jessi was truly interested in. The music on her iPod wasn’t loud or angry—in fact, she was listening to the boy band ’N Sync. She and Patti had listened to their music endlessly when they were teens, and now the songs brought her some comfort. However, when “Bye Bye Bye” almost made her cry, she pulled her earbuds out of her ears and turned her attention to Allan.

He was restlessly pacing the length of the cabin and talking on the phone. She thought she heard him saying something about Jack White. She currently had a lead on the famous Hollywood director-producer and was trying to book a meeting with him later this month to discuss developing some of his summer blockbusters into games. It would be a coup if she could do a deal with Jack, and it would guarantee her job at Playtone-Infinity.

Allan glanced over and caught her staring.

“I’ll have to call you back when we land.”

He disconnected the call and pocketed his iPhone.

“We’re playing for the same team now,” she said. “You don’t have to hide your business.”

“You’re on probation,” he reminded her. “I’m not sure you’ll make it past the ninety days.”

“Really? I’m pretty sure I will. Have you ever known me to fail?”

He turned the leather chair in front of her to face her, and fell down into it. “Not without a hell of a fight.”

She smiled. It almost felt like old times. They were finally finding their way back to their normal bickering, but she had the feeling they were both playing a role. Hell, she was. She was trying to be “normal” when everything inside of her was chaos.

“True dat.”

“With all that’s going on, we haven’t had a chance to talk about my offer to buy you out,” he reminded her. “I’m still willing to do that.”

“I thought we’d already taken care of that. My answer remains no. I’m sorry if I’ve given you the impression that I’m someone who walks away from a difficult situation.”

“Okay, okay. So what are you going to do to convince the Playtone board of directors to keep you on?”

Aside from doing a deal with Jack White, which was a long shot, she had no idea. Her plans for her future at the merged company were vague. It wasn’t like her to be so wishy-washy, but she was tired of the entire family feud thing and was beginning to wonder if she even liked video games. She’d never admit that particular fact to a living soul. There were parts of the company that she loved, but right now she couldn’t name them. There had been so much contention lately with the Montrose heirs that she hadn’t been able to enjoy going to work.

“I am working on a push for Cari’s holiday game. It will launch in two weeks’ time and my team is working to make sure it’s a hit.”

Her sister and the development team had come up with an idea for a game app for the holidays that enabled players to decorate houses and Christmas trees, and then post screen shots to the online game center to try to get the most votes for their decor. The leaderboard was updated every day. The project had used existing assets at the company, so had a really low cost, and Emma believed it was that kind of out-of-the-box thinking that had saved Cari’s job. It wasn’t that there weren’t other holiday apps; it was more the fact that Infinity Games had never done one before and that practically every component of the game was pure profit.

“That’s good, but it won’t be enough to save your job,” he said.

She wished there was something easy or magical she could do to get herself out of this situation. But it was hard enough to be in this position, let alone having to come up with something so revolutionary it would impress the board at Playtone. It was going to take a lot to do that. Kell, Dec and Allan hated her grandfather and Infinity Games for what they’d done to old Thomas Montrose, and they wanted her to fail.