The Billionaire's Big Risk

by Christie Logan

  “Not that I know of. Thank goodness Andy was wearing a helmet, but the doctors are still worried about his brain swelling,” she murmured. “They’ve placed him in an induced coma to give him a chance to heal. There are other injuries as well, a broken leg and fractured ribs. Thank goodness no internal injuries, but… I want you to be prepared, Aaron. He doesn’t look…there are a lot of tubes and machines…”

  “I don’t care,” he answered. “It doesn’t matter what he looks like. What do the doctors say? About his chances for recovery?”

  “They’re cautious.” Her voice was hesitant. “I think they don’t want to get our hopes too high.”

  His heart plummeting, Aaron refused to even consider what that meant. “We’ll get the best doctors to help him. Whatever it takes. We won’t lose him, Claudia.”

  She gave a tired laugh. “Somehow I knew you’d say that. He already has the best physicians, Aaron. Money can’t solve everything. Some things are simply out of our hands.”

  But he wouldn’t accept that. What good was all his wealth if it couldn’t save his son?

  Chapter 3

  Though Claudia had tried to prepare him, Aaron could hardly believe the young man lying in the hospital bed was his own son. In the cool, dimly lit room, Andy lay so pale and still. The room was silent except for the whooshing of the ventilator and the beeps and bloops of the machines monitoring his vitals.

  Aaron felt as though he were moving through sludge as he approached his boy. Claudia’s voice sounded tinny and far away. “Talk to him, Aaron. Hold his hand. The doctors say he can hear us. Let him know you’re here.”

  Marcus and Trent stepped out of the room as he took Andy’s limp hand. “Hey, son. Hey there. It’s your dad.” His throat closed painfully as he quickly blinked back tears. “I’m here and so’s your mom. We’re going to be with you till you’re awake and giving us a hard time as usual. That’s a promise. We’re not going anywhere…”

  “But why, Dad?” Andy demanded, his small face red, his eyes shiny with tears he refused to let fall. “Why are you and Mom breaking up? Don’t you love each other anymore?”

  “It’s hard to explain, buddy,” he answered. How to explain divorce to an eight-year-old? “It’s a grown-up thing. You’ll understand when you get older.” A flat-out lie. Aaron, grown as he was, could barely understand it himself. He still loved Claudia. She was the one who’d turned cold. But he wouldn’t throw her under the bus. “Your mom and I won’t be together anymore, but I’m not going anywhere. Not really.”

  Marcus, two years older than his brother, sat quietly, his face collapsing in heartbreak while his untouched hot fudge sundae melted into a puddle.

  Andy, on the other hand, reacted with anger and defiance. “That’s a lie,” he spat. “You’re gonna move away and me and Marcus will get shoved between your house and Mom’s. I know how it works. Lots of my friends’ parents are divorced. They hardly ever see their dads and their parents still fight all the time.”

  Aaron had foolishly thought taking the boys out to their favorite ice cream parlor would make it easier to tell them about the divorce. He should have realized that not even ice cream could sweeten such devastating news. Well, why should it? Their lives were being completely upended.

  “That’s not how it will be for you guys,” Aaron said. “I’ll be close by and you can see me whenever you want. Every day, if you want to. I promise.”

  “Yeah, right,” Andy snarled. He smashed his spoon into his sundae, splattering whipped topping and melted ice cream on the table, his brother, Aaron and himself. “Liar.”

  Aaron grabbed Andy’s wrist before he could do more damage. “Not cool, buddy. Stop.”

  “Don’t touch me.” Andy wriggled out of his hold. “I hate you.” Like a shot, he was out of his seat and racing for the front of the store. He just made it to the door when Aaron caught him, scooping him up to keep him from running out onto the sidewalk.

  “I hate you.” Andy wept and drummed his fists against his father’s chest.

  “I’m sorry,” Aaron murmured over and over. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry,” he told Andy as the flashback faded away and he was back in the hospital room. Back in the present. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He looked up to find Claudia watching him intently. Then she opened her purse and placed a small object on the stand beside their son’s bed.

  “What is that?” Aaron asked.

  A blush colored her cheeks. “Just an old toy of his.” She picked it up again to show him the little toy, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. “A fire engine. Remember that collection of little cars and trucks he loved when he was small?”

  “Oh, sure. That’s right.” He quirked his brows. “You kept them all this time?”

  “They’re small enough to box up and put away.” She looked away, as though embarrassed. “He might like them again, when he has his own children.”

  Aaron gave her a grin. “He’s only twenty. He won’t be having any kids for a while yet, I hope.”

  Looking down at Andy again, his grin faded and he grew somber. He’s only twenty. And like any twenty-year-old, thought he was invincible. Yet here he lay, connected to tubes and wires and all kinds of monitors, not even able to breathe on his own.

  “That fire engine was his favorite, wasn’t it?” Aaron’s voice sounded gruff as he spoke through the fear rising in his throat. Better to talk and keep his mind off the fear than dwell on it. “If I remember correctly.”

  “Yes.” Claudia blinked back tears, her own voice wobbly as she answered. She was suffering the same terror as he. The terror that Andy might not wake up at all.

  No. He wouldn’t let himself consider that possibility. The doctors were doing everything they could. And Andy was a tough, stubborn kid. Too much like his old man. He’d pull through.

  “He had a big fire engine with all the bells and whistles,” Claudia went on. “We got it for him one Christmas. Do you remember that?”

  “No…wait, yes. Oh, yeah. Yeah. That shiny red one. And then he had more fun playing with the box.” Aaron laughed and shook his head. “That kid.”

  “I think he was four that year. That was the same year we started monster patrol, wasn’t it?”

  “My gosh, you’re right.” Monster patrol. He hadn’t thought about that in ages.

  “He got it into his head that monsters were hiding under his bed and behind the curtains. And every night at bedtime, he’d make us check the closet and under the bed and every nook and cranny to make sure no monsters were hiding. Then you invented monster spray.”

  Monster spray was nothing more than air freshener with a phony label Aaron had affixed to the cannister. He’d then sprayed every corner of Andy’s room, promising his little boy it would keep all boogeymen and bad guys far away. “He was suspicious at first, though. Pretty smart, our boy. Wanted to know why monster spray smelled like flowers.”

  Claudia laughed. “And you told him because monsters hated flowers and good smells. They only liked things that were stinky and gross. That convinced him, I guess, because then he wanted you to spray his teddy bear. To keep him safe, too.”

  “Oh yeah, the teddy bear. What was its name again?”

  She arched an eyebrow skeptically. “I’m surprised you’ve forgotten. It was Booger.”

  He stifled a laugh. “Oh. That’s right.” Claudia had hated that name and kept trying to get Andy to change it to Barney or Burt. But Andy wouldn’t budge, and the teddy remained Booger.

  “The monster spray was the only thing that made him feel safe enough to close his eyes.” She smiled fondly at Aaron as they relived this memory that only parents could share. “How long did that phase last? A few months?”

  “Seemed like forever at the time.” But now he wished he could have those days back, when they were a more-or-less happy family living together. When they worked things out amidst life’s ups, downs and occasional hiccup. When some carefully disguised air fre
shener could solve their problems.

  If only he had some monster spray now. He’d fill the room with it to keep his son safe.

  “Dad.” Someone gently shook his shoulder. “Hey, dad.”

  Aaron jerked himself awake. Where was he? “Andy?”

  “No, Dad. It’s me.” Marcus stood looking down at him.

  Bleary-eyed, blinking, he rose to greet his older son. Wakefulness brought reality back with the force of a semi and he remembered everything. Andy. The accident. The coma.

  “Son. How are you?” He enveloped Marcus in a fierce hug. Aaron didn’t want to let him go. If only he could protect him forever, keep him safe. That was a father’s job. A job he’d failed at with Andy.

  “Okay, I guess.” Marcus returned the hug then pulled back. “Trent’s here, too.”

  “Trent, buddy.” Aaron hugged his son’s boyfriend. “Thanks for being here.”

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

  Aaron rubbed his jaw, feeling the roughness of morning stubble. “What time is it?”

  “A little after seven a.m.”

  “Really?” He’d been sitting here all night with Andy and must have fallen asleep in his chair. How long had he been out? “Don’t you guys have to get ready for work?”

  “I called the school and told them I need some family leave.” Marcus taught fourth grade in a public school. “I want to be here for Andy.”

  “I’m taking the day off,” Trent said. He and Marcus exchanged a look. “We’ll see how things go.” Blond, blue-eyed Trent was a social worker. He and Marcus had been living together for over a year.

  “You look beat, Dad. Why don’t you go downstairs and get some coffee? Maybe something to eat. Trent and I will hang here.”

  Not a bad idea. Aaron moved his stiff neck and heard it crack. It would feel good to walk around a bit and maybe splash some cold water on his face. “Where’s your mom?”

  “She went down to the cafeteria just a couple minutes ago. She needed a break, too.”

  “Okay. Thanks, guys. See you in a little bit.”

  Before heading downstairs, he found a bathroom in which to freshen up and run a comb through his hair. The cafeteria on the hospital’s main floor was quiet. The fragrance of coffee, cooked bacon and buttered toast teased his nostrils. A few staffers in scrubs were eating breakfast or catching a coffee break. Visitors, easily identified by their lack of uniform, sat at scattered tables.

  As he grabbed a tray, he spotted Claudia at a corner table, staring down into her cup of coffee. He by-passed the bacon and eggs, the toast and pastries. Though it all looked good, he didn’t think he could swallow a bite. Coffee was all he could handle.

  Until he paused by a small standalone freezer that held a variety of ice cream treats in cups and on sticks. He impulsively slid open the glass and selected two. After paying for them and the coffee, he headed to Claudia’s table.

  “Is this seat taken?” he asked, nodding to the chair across from her.

  She gave him a tired smile. “Help yourself.”

  He sat and told her that Marcus and Trent were with Andy. “They wanted me to come down and take a break.”

  “They said the same thing to me,” she answered.

  “You’re not eating?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.” Then, indicating his tray: “Is that your breakfast?”

  “Yes, indeed.” He handed her one of the ice-cream pops. “This is for you.”

  She arched a brow. “Seriously?”

  “It’s the orange kind with the vanilla middle. That was always your favorite.” When they were dating, they’d take long walks around the city and would stop at a bodega or an ice-cream cart to pick up a treat. Claudia always picked the orange-vanilla ones.

  Her eyes rounded as though she was surprised he remembered. “I haven’t had one of these in forever.”

  “Really?” He tore the wrapper off his fudge pop. “Go ahead.”

  The corner of her mouth quirked as she slowly removed her own wrapper. “Ice cream for breakfast. You always were a rule-breaker.”

  “But you liked that about me, in spite of you being a stickler.” He took a big bite of his treat.

  “A stickler?” She grimaced. “That makes me sound so stodgy and boring.”

  “Never boring. You were honest and real.” Her goodness wasn’t a hypocritical façade. She really cared about people and wanted to help them. She was still involved with the same organization that served survivors of domestic violence that she’d worked at when they first met. Once she’d been an employee. Now she served on the board of directors. She was tenacious in her belief in helping women and children, something he’d always admired about her.

  As the cold ice cream melted on his tongue and slid down his throat, he pondered that difference between them. A woman who lived by the rules and a man who wouldn’t be bound by them. It was what attracted them to each other in the first place, and what finally tore them apart.

  Claudia nibbled her ice cream and gave a small laugh.

  “What?” he asked, reaching for a napkin. “Did I smear chocolate on myself?”

  “No. I’m just imagining what the tabloids might say if they got a shot of you eating that.”

  “Those rags? They’d make something nasty of it, I’m sure.” The thought of them soured the taste of chocolate and made him scrunch his brow. “You don’t pay them any mind, I hope.”

  “No, of course not. Still…”

  Though she let her voice trail off, Aaron knew there was more she wanted to say. “What?”

  She slid him a sidelong glance. “You do manage to pop up in them pretty frequently.”

  “And how would you know that? You’re too smart a woman to be reading those things.”

  Her cheeks colored as though she were embarrassed. “Well, I certainly don’t buy them. But I can’t help coming across them—”

  “Listen, the Weekly Snoop will print any kind of lie it can concoct. They’ve gotten plenty of mileage out of me over the years.” And frankly, not all of it had been lies. When he was young, there was nothing that gave him more pleasure than to land on the cover of some trashy magazine and thoroughly embarrass his parents and grandparents. Run the “good name” of Sinclair through the mud.

  Marriage had forced him to straighten up, which he was happy to do for Claudia’s sake, and later, for his sons. After the divorce, he’d gone back to his old ways for a while—mostly in a foolhardy attempt to show the world how little he cared about the demise of his marriage. In fact, he’d cared deeply. The break-up of his home was a painful wound that still hadn’t completely healed.

  His attempt to re-live his bachelor days had been brief. He had two boys to co-parent with his ex, and they needed a responsible father, not some clown consumed by his own adventures. He vowed to be a better role model than his parents had been for him.

  Those days were long past, but his reputation as a bad boy and player still hung on. “If I step outside, they’ve got me up to no good. If I even speak to a woman, any woman, I must be having a torrid affair with her.”

  It made him crazy. Crazy enough to utter phrases like “torrid affair.” Ugh.

  He’d cleaned up his act years ago, but that made no difference. His life was still tabloid fodder, even though he tried to lie low.

  “If they saw the two of us here together, they’d probably blast it all over the front page that we’re getting back together,” he added.

  Claudia went still. “Well, that would be a mistake. And I’m sure the young lady back in your apartment wouldn’t like it a bit.”

  “Young—” it took Aaron a second to realize she was referring to Summer. Worry over Andy’s condition had absorbed so much of his energy, he’d barely given the girl a thought. A moment’s guilt stabbed him. He hoped Summer was all right, and prayed she’d take his advice about her deadbeat boyfriend. But Aaron knew he couldn’t force her to dump Eddie, just as he couldn’t have compelled Andy to stay
off his motorcycle.

  That was the trouble with young people. They thought they knew it all. They didn’t want to hear from “the olds” who had been through it themselves and only wanted to spare them pain and heartache.

  And didn’t that realization make him feel like an old codger in his nineties instead of the middle-aged man he was.

  After all, he’d been no different than Summer and Andy when he was a young buck. Actually, he’d been worse. He’d gone looking for trouble instead of letting it come to him.

  “The girl in my apartment? Her name is Summer. She’s—”

  Claudia held up her hand to silence him. “I don’t want to know. It’s none of my business, anyway.”

  A record scratch sounded in his head and his guts tightened into a knot. Her expression had turned flat, her eyes cold. She was doing it again. Imagining the worst. Judging him. Just as his family of birth had done before they turned their backs on him.

  Well, he wasn’t having it. “That’s right. It’s not.” And he’d been stupid enough to imagine he and Claudia were beginning to breach the years-long gap between them.

  He finished his fudge bar in two big bites and stood. “I’ll see you upstairs.”

  Claudia set down her mostly uneaten orange pop and gave a huff of frustration. Why had she done that? Why, after reminding herself that Aaron’s love life was none of her business, had she gone and mentioned the young girl with whom he clearly had a “special” relationship?

  Are you jealous?

  She scoffed at the very idea. Of course not. She and Aaron had been divorced for more than a decade. In that time, they’d forged completely separate lives. And since their sons were now grown men, they no longer even had to manage co-parenting. They had little reason to interact anymore.

  Except for times like this, when they had to pull together. Their son’s well-being was more important than any lingering resentment they held toward each other.

  Whatever his shortcomings as a husband, Aaron had always been a loving dad. Maybe too inclined to be more of a pal to his sons than a father, but then making sure the rules were enforced had always been her job. Sometimes a thankless one, but someone had to make sure homework was done, teeth were brushed, and bedtimes enforced.