by Sierra Rose
“Oh, yeah,” she said with a self-effacing laugh. “You took me to the Ocean Club and told me you wanted me to see it because you were proud of it and I was just gone. Head over heels. It scared me. I’ve never felt like this, not about anybody. It’s so nerve-wracking, like we’re back in high school and I’m afraid you won’t pass me a note before gym or something.”
He smiled, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll always pass you a note, Britt.”
“I left you a message because I got your file. I thought all this time it was your insurance paperwork and I was avoiding it because I was so upset about us.”
“What did you think of the apartment?”
“I assume you’re not serious.”
“Why wouldn’t I be serious?”
“Because that was two weeks ago and you can’t possibly want to move in with me when we just got together.”
“I said I wanted you to give me a real chance, Britt. That’s a real chance.”
“Well so is living in our own apartments and sleeping over sometimes.”
“I don’t want sometimes. I don’t want once in a while. I’m not going to be your sometime man.”
“That sounds like a song title to me.”
He shot me that beautiful smile. “That’s not a half bad idea. The point is, though, that I want to be with you all the time.”
“We work together. Wouldn’t living together be too much?”
“Not for me. I love how you make me feel when I’m with you. There is no too much when it comes to us. But if you want to wait, we can wait. I thought since there was a roof garden...”
“I want to grow herbs. Like fennel and rosemary and stuff.”
“Do you cook?”
“No but I could learn and I would want to use fresh herbs. Like in salad dressing and stuff. I’ve seen it on TV,” she admitted.
“So is that yes to the roof garden or wait on the roof garden?”
“I’m thinking wait. I’m not ready to make that leap yet. I like where we are too much to move too fast,” she said, snuggling closer to him.
“Then let’s stay here...for now. We’ll take it slow.”
“I’m okay with a label.”
“The boyfriend and girlfriend label?”
“Yeah, let’s make it official.”
“I love that idea. And I love the idea of calling you my girlfriend.”
“And I adore the idea of calling you my boyfriend.”
“Then it’s official. We’re in a relationship.”
She squeezed his hand. “And I couldn’t be happier.”
He kissed her lips and she enjoyed the feel of her boyfriend’s lips against hers.
Just as they were drifting off to sleep, she heard a harsh ringing. Jack groaned, stretched and went to retrieve his phone. He muttered about who would be calling at four in the morning while she admired the view of her naked man.
He listened to the voice mail and she could tell by the way he stopped pacing, by the strangled sound he made that something was very wrong. She vaulted out of bed and went to his side. Britt laid her hand on his bare shoulder solicitously.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
When the message was finished, he turned to look at her.
“It’s my dad.”
“What about him?” Britt asked in a careful hush.
“He’s on his way to the hospital. He’s had a heart attack,” Jack said, dropping on to the bed to sit as if his legs would no longer hold him.
Britt took him in her arms and held him.
“He’s going to St. Teresa’s by ambulance. I have to go,” Jack said and Britt nodded sadly, hoping for the best, but, at the same time, wishing she could go with him and be by his side.
“I love you, Jack,” she said. “Remember that.”
“I will, Britt. I just...I’m just scared. He wouldn’t slow down—”
“They just said he’s on his way to the hospital. He’s still with us. Go see him. Find out what’s going on. I’ll be here.”
“I love you back,” he said and kissed her.
To be continued...
Book 3
The Boss’s Son
Part 3
By
Sierra Rose
Copyright © 2015 by Sierra Rose
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Chapter 1
Britt Collier wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but there was no time to waste in overthinking it. She raced to her door in time to catch Jack, the on-again boyfriend she’d just reunited with passionately. He was on his way to St. Teresa’s hospital to be with his father, her boss, who had suffered a heart attack. She caught him by the arm.
“Jack, I know you have to go. Do you want me to, you know, go along with you?”
“I would but...I want to see how serious it is first, if that’s okay.”
“Whatever you need is okay! I just don’t want to intrude. Just know I’m here for you.”
“Thanks, Britt. I’ll call you.”
He kissed her forehead and shuffled out of her apartment. He looked so different, so diminished from a few hours earlier when he’d come to her and they’d reconciled. By all rights this ought to have been one of the happiest nights of his life. His band had scored a studio recording contract with a major label and he and Britt had found a way to work out their differences. Instead, he was rushing to the hospital in hope of finding his father still alive. Jack’s father was an eminent businessman who had recently taken over Creative Consulting, the firm where Britt was the bookkeeper. Mr. Fitzsimmons was supposed to be slowing down, reducing his workload per doctor’s orders. He was a dynamo, a man to be reckoned with and not one to while away the hours on the golf course. As a result, he may have overextended himself and jeopardized his health.
Britt’s heart ached for Jack right now. She knew how deeply he cared for his father, how close they were. He had even come to work at the consulting firm as a marketing department just to be supportive of his father’s career transition, even though Jack had an amazing career in freelance graphic design already. Knowing the level of respect and devotion between them it was unimaginable the amount of pain Jack would be in. She wanted desperately to comfort him, to be by his side when he heard any news good or bad. But they had been together such a short time and prior to that their relationship had been a secret because of Britt’s position as his father’s employee—that it would be an awkward time to introduce herself to his family and sort of force her way in during a difficult situation. It would no doubt be simpler for him if she stayed away...fewer explanations necessary. But that did nothing to satisfy her need to be there for him and support him during his time of need.
Totally conflicted, she ate three cookies and found herself no nearer a decision. The last thing on Earth Britt wanted to do was make this any harder for Jack. She just wanted to hold his hand, stroke his hair, and reassure him that she was right there to help him every step of the way.
She tried to watch TV, but kept thinking of Jack. She texted him to let him know that if he needed anything, she was just a message away. He replied that the doctor was evaluating his dad and they’d know more after some test results were back. Eventually she fell asleep waiting to hear an update. In the morning, she checked her phone and found there was no message waiting from J
ack. She dressed in her plainest, most comfortable pantsuit and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She didn’t feel like fussing over her appearance on today of all days. She gathered up the paperwork she’d brought home the night before, full of insurance forms and qualifications, and made her way to the office.
Marj, her best friend, brought her a cup of coffee.
“Have you heard?” Marj asked.
Britt shook her head in what she hoped was an innocent manner since no one at the office knew about she and Jack and their involvement with each other.
“Boss man had a heart attack. I guess it was major. He’s in surgery right now at St. Teresa’s.”
“Really? That’s awful.”
“I know, Luke told me. I guess he talked to Jack earlier.”
“I didn’t see Jack this morning so he must be with his dad.”
“Yeah. I hope the guy’s okay. He’s not the creep that last bastard was.”
“Right. He’s been pretty solid. Nice enough, never tried to grope me. I just hope he’s all right. He’s always been really nice to me.”
“Funny, I thought you disliked him. You avoid him a lot.”
“Really? I guess I never noticed.”
“You hid from him.”
“It’s a bad habit. I probably just didn’t want to tell him I’m running behind on compliance with the new insurance company.”
“Classic avoidance. You should be more confident. You’re the best bookkeeper this company has.”
“I’m the only one, Marj. That’s hardly encouraging.”
“Oh, well, you’re still the best. If there were like nine, you’d be the best one.”
“Nice save. You should go work in hostage negotiation,” Britt joked. “Hey, let me know if you hear anything about Fitzsimmons, okay?”
“Sure thing, babe. Lunch?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Britt was busily working on her spreadsheet for the insurance submission when her phone lit up. Thank goodness. She had been waiting for that call all morning.
“Dad out of surg. Went well,” Jack messaged her.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Britt replied.
“So glad. How ru holding up?”
“Rough but relieved.”
“Miss u.”
“Me 2.”
“I love u, she texted, holding her breath for a reply. They’d only just said that for the first time on the previous night, so it felt new, fragile even. She hoped he could feel that in her message, the power and intensity behind her text.
Britt waited a while but heard no answer from him. She reasoned that he might have been admitted to recovery to visit his dad in post-op. Or his father might be on some sophisticated life support machine that required all cell phones to be shut off so their frequency didn’t interfere with essential functions. Or perhaps he was too wrapped up in his family tragedy to worry about reassuring his girlfriend; and that was completely understandable. No matter which it was, she was aching to go to him, to hold his hand and not have to wonder what was going on or exactly what he meant by ‘rough’ when she’d asked how he was holding up.
It was hard to concentrate and work when she was so worried for Jack’s dad, her boss. She was also concerned about Jack and how he was holding up. She wished he would call and give her an update. Britt went home after work and read a book.
“Starving,” Jack finally texted.
“Go get something to eat,” she texted back.
“Hate the hospital food here.”
She ventured that he probably hadn’t eaten much. She decided further that she was the one to rectify that. Not that she had an herb garden on a roof just yet—or any cooking skills—but she had the will to do something nice to try and make things just a tiny bit better. Thinking back to the twice they’d eaten out together, she settled on a steak sandwich for each of them and called in a takeout order from Tamarind, the restaurant where they’d first met. She changed to a sundress and picked up the order, which awaited her in one black shopping bag. She staked out a table in the hospital cafeteria, and then called Jack.
“Hey, secret lover, meet me in the cafeteria. I brought you dinner,” she said.
“It’s so good to hear your voice. And thank you. I’ll be right down.”
She fussed with the arrangements of things, opening the plastic containers of salad, bread, the steak sandwiches and fries, trying to make the table look as presentable as possible. A smiling cafeteria worker came over and handed her a plastic vase of equally plastic purple carnations from the information table outside the cafeteria. Britt thanked her and used it as a make shift centerpiece. She was smiling at her handiwork as he came in the cafeteria.
“This looks wonderful,” Jack said.
Jack looked rougher than the last time she’d seen him only hours before. While she had been at work typing away beneath fluorescent lights, he looked to have been struggling through a blizzard under the most demoralizing conditions. Haggard and pale, he slumped a bit in his jeans and t-shirt, hands stuffed in his pockets. Seeing him made her eyes well up with tears. She could feel how afraid, how frustrated he was by the situation, by having to face his dad being in the hospital again, having more surgery when less than a year before he’d been in the same circumstance. The difference, she meant to show him, was that now she was there to support him.
Chapter 2
Without a moment’s hesitation, Britt ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. His arms closed around her possessively and he dropped his head onto her shoulder. Britt stroked his dark hair and whispered words of love to him.
“I’ve missed you,” he managed, his voice thick with emotion.
“I missed you, too. I stayed away because I didn’t want to intrude. Has your brother come?”
“No. He isn’t likely to do so, either. It’s not dire, thank God, but it isn’t as though he were going to hurry back from Australia to sit in the hospital waiting room,” Jack mused sourly.
“You’re so the good son,” Britt teased.
“Yes, I am, despite the fact I’m the front man for a rock group, I’m not the bad boy I pretend to be, Britt. I’m a saint.”
“Well, St. Jacob of Graphic Design, I have brought an offering for you from Tamarind. If I recall, you martyred yourself with lobster when we were there but you were eyeing my meat like a true carnivore.”
“You’ve brought steak?”
“A steak sandwich and fries.”
“Perceptive as well as beautiful,” he said, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “It’s one of my favorite meals. Thank you so much.”
Britt peered up into his tired face and smiled. She loved him so deeply and they had grown so close in a short time. She wished she could make everything easier for him and give him strength while his father was recovering. He sank into a plastic cafeteria chair and even his posture sagged as though it were a great relief just to sit. He ate the sandwich but it was pretty clear that he was making a huge effort just to be engaged in the present moment.
“How is he doing?” she asked.
“He’s just going into surgery now. There was a delay. He was scheduled at ten this morning and you should’ve seen how grouchy he was. They have to be NPO, which means he can’t have anything to eat or drink. So he was a grump by nine-fifteen. Imagine how much hungrier, weaker, and more pissed off he is by six-thirty.”
“That’s awful! I guess they must’ve had an emergency or something that got prioritized ahead of him.”
“Yeah, they have to triage and the thoracic surgeon who was scheduled to treat him was also the doctor on call when a major car accident came in.”
“I hate that for your dad, though.”
“Me, too.”
“Bread?”
“Yes, thanks,” he said.
Britt took a slice of crusty bread from the container and impulsively spread butter on it for him before passing it to him. It was just a small thing she could do to take care of him, to nurture and spoil
him a little. He managed a smile, which felt like a victory to her.
“Thank you for doing this. You even brought flowers!” he said, indicating the plastic floral arrangement.
“Yes, I picked them from the garden outside,” she said.
“I didn’t know there was a plastic garden outside.”
“There isn’t.”
She grinned as he smiled.
“I needed that,” he said. “I needed you to make me laugh and I needed to see your face. Also, this sandwich is sublime. Seriously. Best steak sandwich ever. I’m grateful, truly.”
“So, it’s okay that I’m here?”
“Yes. It’s better than okay, Britt. I need you here.”
“Then let me stay with you. Please. It’s the only place I want to be. I swear I’ll sit quietly and play on my phone. I won’t bug you. I’ll just hold your hand...unless I’m trying to advance a level on Candy Crush in which case I’ll need both hands, so forget you and your anxieties during that.”
“I’d love to have you stay here with me and I’d be happy to sabotage your progress on any app of your choice by rubbing your knee or refusing to give up possession of your hand.”
“You so wouldn’t.”
“I so would.”
“That’s diabolical. There’s the Jack I know and love. I think the meat has revived you, brought you back to life.”
“Despite the fact that it’s a truly excellent steak sandwich, I think the real credit belongs to you.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to eat that piece of bread?”
“Yes!” she said, her hand hovering protectively over her slice of bread.
“Oh, you’re diabolical.”
“It’s the ponytail. Gives me that adorable, wicked vibe.”
“Oh, okay. It’s all right if you eat it. I’ve spent all day shivering in a hospital room, with nothing to eat or drink but the chemical crap from the vending machine that doesn’t take fives, worrying sick about my dad. But if you need that last slice of bread and it’s more important to you than my comfort, go right ahead.”
Britt took a huge bite of her buttery slice.
