Brett and his grandmother had always been blunt with each other. In a dry tone he said, “They’re nicer than we are. They say supportive things to each other. Leave each other feeling good about themselves.”
She laughed. “You make me sound horrible.”
Giving his grandmother’s hand a gentle squeeze, he said, “I’m beginning to think we are.”
“Well, at least you include yourself. I asked my mother once why she picked apart everything I did. She told me the greatest gift a parent could give a child was to have high expectations for them. Children these days stop pooping their pants and they think they deserve a gold medal. That’s not reality. I only push the ones I love.”
I agree and have done the same, but where has it brought our family? “I understand that, Grandmother, but if something doesn’t change, you may end up dying alone.”
His grandmother gasped. “You’re awful.”
He smiled. “I get it from you.”
A reluctant smile stretched her lips. “You do, I’m afraid.”
“Is there hope for either one of us?” he joked, more serious than not.
Still holding his hand, his grandmother said, “Oliver always knew just what to say to make people feel better. I see him in you.”
“Me?” Brett asked, not too sure he appreciated the comparison. Especially now that I know how my grandfather died.
“And your father. Dereck worshipped his father. He was so much like him when he was younger. Always laughing. Seeing the bright side of everything. Your mother’s betrayal made Dereck so unhappy he lost himself, and he’s never found his way back.” Delinda had never believed her son had cheated on his wife. Dereck’s protests that the dissolution of his marriage had been his fault had fueled Delinda’s distrust of Stephanie.
As Brett listened, he understood his father’s decision to keep his grandfather’s dark secrets to himself. There would have been no benefit to destroying his grandmother’s version of her husband. “We need to talk about the letter you sent everyone. You realize Spencer took it to heart.”
“Good. Alessandro says his family was healed when his nephews and nieces found love. He thinks the same could happen with us.”
Brett put an arm around a woman who needed him more than he’d ever realized. “That’s what the marriage clause is about? How many glasses of wine in was Alessandro when he gave you this advice?”
She rolled her eyes. “It worked for them. I’m giving it a try.” She waved a finger at him. “Who knows, even you might finally settle down. Then maybe you’ll come around more.”
He smiled at her gently. “I don’t need your money.” He guided her toward the door. “But I will try to get here more often. At eighty, you’re already living on borrowed time.”
His grandmother swatted at him and laughed. “I intend to live to one hundred.”
“Good,” he said. “Now, we’re going to find everyone else, and you will be nice. Keep all of your helpful advice to yourself. Say things like, ‘That’s great’ and—”
“Bravo,” his grandmother said with forced enthusiasm.
“We’ll work on your delivery,” Brett said as they entered the foyer.
Michael met them. “Pardon the interruption, but it seems that there was an emergency somewhere that required everyone to leave.”
“They’re gone?” Delinda asked and slumped against Brett.
“Yes,” Michael answered simply.
“Thank you, Michael,” Brett said.
“Will you be staying for lunch?” Michael asked.
Normally, Brett would have declined, but the more he learned about his grandmother, the more he felt sorry for her. She was living by a stern philosophy her parents had passed down to her, and there she was, after a life of being doted on, alone and confused as to how it happened.
No different than his father.
No different than me.
“Would you like me to, Grandmother?”
A smile returned to her face. “I would. I would like it very much.”
A short time later, Brett bit into a lobster salad sandwich and encouraged his grandmother to tell him another story of what life had been like before his grandfather had died. The way she glowed as she spoke of that time made him smile, but he was also sad for how it had all turned out.
He wished he’d met his grandfather.
Would he be the weak man Father described or the loving paragon Grandmother remembers?
Could a man be both?
Chapter Four
Monday afternoon Alisha left school a few minutes after her last student was picked up. Before pulling out of the parking lot, she sent a text to Rachelle to say she wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be working out with her that evening. Physically, Alisha was fine, but emotionally she’d only made it through the day by pushing back how raw the weekend had left her.
Although on the surface her childhood had certainly looked different, the gut-wrenching guilt of watching someone she loved be treated badly was familiar enough to bring back memories Alisha could usually keep at bay. Telling Delinda Westerly what she thought of her behavior should have felt cathartic, but it remained tangled in a cluster of other feelings.
Marrying Spencer had been easy to agree to. At the time it had felt like a helpful deed without consequences. She hadn’t expected for everything to go so fast. He wanted to move the wedding date to the following weekend. She wasn’t ready.
Which felt ridiculous, because there was nothing to get ready for. In fact, the sooner they did it, the sooner they could end it.
Alisha drove toward her sanctuary. Had it gone to her mother, her father would have sold it. She was thankful her grandmother had wisely bypassed her own daughter and left Alisha the three-hundred-square-foot, one-bedroom cabin on a tiny slip of land by Lake Serenity. Over time the land around it had been built up with extravagant homes plus docks that jutted out well beyond the shore. The cabin was often confused for a utility shed for one of the neighboring properties, but to Alisha it was heaven. The thick brush surrounding it gave the illusion of privacy on an otherwise overpopulated shoreline.
And Alisha needed a place to hide, even if only for a few hours.
After leaving Delinda’s home, she had gone back to Stephanie’s place with the rest of the siblings. Emotions had been running high for everyone.
Stephanie had taken Spencer and Alisha aside to talk about slowing down their plans to marry. “It’s a big decision, and not one anyone should rush into.”
Spencer had argued that some things were better done quickly, decisively.
Never happy being left out, Rachelle and Nicolette had joined the awkward conversation, and soon the length of the engagement was being debated from all sides. The whole thing began to feel like a train speeding down tracks without brakes, and instead of helping Alisha gain control of it, the multiple opinions only added more fuel. The more arguments Spencer heard against marrying fast, the more determined he became that they should do it the following weekend.
“What does Alisha want?” Stephanie had asked, and all eyes turned to her.
Unable to voice the truth and unwilling to lie, Alisha had excused herself from the conversation and bolted to the porch. It was Rachelle who’d joined her there, but what she said had cut through her even though Rachelle hadn’t intended it to. She’d said, “Crazy day, huh? Aren’t you glad we’re not really your family?”
With a whoosh, her words had knocked the breath clear out of Alisha. When she’d stood up to Delinda for the people she loved, in that moment they’d been her family. But they’re not.
They’re friends. Good friends, but Stephanie is not my mother. As much as I love Rachelle and Nicolette, they are not my sisters.
She’d looked down at the ring on her finger. I don’t really even have a fiancé.
If this goes badly, I could end up with no one.
Her thoughts must have shone on her face because Rachelle quickly said, “Oh my God, Alisha, I didn
’t mean it that way. I was trying to make you feel better. I’m an idiot.”
Alisha had forced a bright smile. “What? Don’t be silly. I knew what you meant. I’m probably fighting something, because I’m tired and cranky all of a sudden.”
Rachelle had placed the back of her hand across Alisha’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish, but there are all sorts of colds going around my classroom. You should get to bed early tonight.”
Alisha had stood, brushed off the back of her dress, and promised to do just that.
Sleep hadn’t helped, though. Nor had her busy day at school. She was hoping a few hours at the lake house would clear her head.
A while later, she was sitting by the edge of her lawn, throwing pebbles into the water. Once summer started and school ended, peace would be impossible to find here, but today it was blissfully quiet.
If I marry Spencer, will Stephanie forever see me as the woman who divorced her son? Will she come to hate me the way Delinda hates her?
I could tell Spencer that I’ll only do this for him if we can be honest with her. And Nicolette.
Alisha remembered Brett’s expression when he caught her standing up to his grandmother. He looked . . . proud of her. Someone should tell him, too; then he might stop seeing me as a potential gold digger.
Why would I care what he thinks? He doesn’t come across as someone who’d be above stretching the truth to get what he wants.
And I’m doing this to help someone.
What do they say about good deeds? They never go unpunished?
How can something that felt right a week ago feel wrong now?
Her phone beeped with a text from Rachelle. She wanted to know how Alisha felt and if she needed anything.
Alisha thanked her, but stressed that she was all set.
Chicken soup? Is your throat sore?
I’m fine. I love you for asking, but I’m going to sleep now.
Do you have your substitute lesson plans ready in case you can’t make it in tomorrow? If not, I can go to your school first and make sure everything is there and ready.
I should tell her I’m not sick so she’ll stop worrying, but then I’d have to lie about why I don’t want to see her today.
I’m just tired, Rachelle. I’ll be in school tomorrow. Thank you.
Call me in the morning.
I will. Love you.
Love you, too.
Alisha turned off her phone, put it down on the grass beside her, and threw another stone into the water. Are you in a better place, Mom? Can you hear me where you are?
I’m sorry I focus on the worst of who you were, but that’s because I don’t want to miss you.
It hurts like hell when I do.
Alisha lay back in the grass with an arm over her eyes. I have a good life, Mom. I love my job. I have amazing friends who care about me.
And I’m getting married.
How is it possible to have all that and still feel alone?
Brett had surprised his secretary by leaving the office at five o’clock. He drove to Braintree, where Spencer’s office was located. After a long night of thinking, he’d decided it was time to make some changes in his personal life.
Like his grandmother, he was no longer willing to settle for the fractured state of his family.
In business, Brett went after what he wanted one hundred percent. Because he held nothing back, he won where others lost. Before Alisha, he would have said he lived by his own rules, but there was definitely a pattern playing out in his family, and it would stop with him. If he could run a multibillion-dollar corporation, he could damn well have a conversation with his brother that didn’t end with one of them walking off.
A receptionist greeted him as he exited the elevator. The large glass walls behind her with the WorkChat decal had the feel of a start-up business, albeit a good one. He automatically assessed the professionalism of the conversations around him and nodded. “I’m here to see Spencer Westerly.”
The woman held up a gadget about the size of a phone and scanned him. “Brett Westerly?”
“Yes.”
She tapped something into the gadget. “He’s not available to meet with you in person.”
“Where is he?” Brett demanded. He didn’t like wasting time.
The young woman gave him an odd look as if it were not the norm to hear a raised voice. “He’s in the lab, but he said he’s willing to meet with you if you’re not afraid of heights.”
What the hell? “Fine.”
The woman stood and led him to what looked like a closet door. “Please step inside. Your session will automatically commence once the door closes. If you become disoriented or nervous, touch the wall with a flat hand for ten seconds and your session will end. Please don’t try to run out of the room while still in session, since the floor is a rolling one and will only move you through the setting you’ve chosen. However, the floor freezes when the session terminates, so please remember to touch the wall when you would like to leave.”
Giving in to his curiosity, Brett stepped inside and closed the door. He stood motionless inside what appeared to be a tan cylinder that was wide enough for him to extend his arms fully, but not much more. The room dimmed and what he’d thought was a painted surface became a 360-degree screen that flashed the words “WorkChat.” He found himself standing in a grassy field that stretched in all directions without interruption. It was essentially a virtual reality experience he could move through by walking. He took a few steps and was impressed by how real the landscape around him looked. It adjusted with him. There was even an image on the floor that completed the landscape.
A female computer voice asked, “Spencer Westerly would like to join your session. Accept or deny?”
Brett said, “Accept.”
In jeans and a T-shirt, Spencer appeared beside him and was cropped into the background as a second player in a video game would be. He started walking and his image blurred until he returned to Brett’s side. “You have to keep pace with me or our sessions will separate. We’re working on that glitch.”
Brett fell into step beside his brother. “This is WorkChat? I’m impressed. I had no idea.”
A look of surprise turned to a smile of pleasure. “It’s the next step in productivity optimization. My goal is to integrate this technology into the workplace so seamlessly that companies won’t know what they did before it was available.” He lifted his hand and pressed a button on a small handheld device. They were suddenly walking down the hallway of an office building. “The workplace today is global, but flying people back and forth across the ocean is a waste of time. WorkChat allows real-time movement through space. It’s also a healthier and safer option for many.” They walked into a conference room. “Have a seat,” Spencer said.
Brett walked over to one of the chairs. Since he physically couldn’t touch it, he stepped next to it and heard a click behind him. Although it was nothing more than a flat board that appeared from the wall, when he sat on it all of his senses told him he was sitting on one of the chairs. Another plank lowered in front of him. On it there was a virtual notepad.
Brett stood, and the planks disappeared back into the wall. “Amazing.”
“It will be. To be taken seriously, we need to get out of the prototype phase and smooth out the programming. We already have enough to market it as a game, but I want it to be so much more than that. Every meeting can be recorded. Every setting can be designed to the client’s specs. The possibilities are endless. Ever look around the boardroom and wonder how to wake everyone up?” He hit a button, and Brett stumbled back as the conference room disappeared and they were standing on a cloud. The cloud dissolved, and even though Brett knew he was still standing on a solid floor, when a burst of air was added to the visual fall, it felt real. Real enough that when it ended, his heart was pumping.
Pride at what Spencer had accomplished drew a huge smile on Brett’s face. Normally, he would have offered him advice, even if he didn’t want
it. Like his grandmother, Brett only pushed those he cared about. Yet he held his tongue this time. Spencer was doing just fine.
“What do you think?”
“I’m impressed.”
“We still have a long way to go, but an infusion of capital would move us along while allowing me to maintain full control.”
“Which is why you need your inheritance now.”
“Exactly.”
Letting out a breath, Brett plowed forward. “That’s part of why I’m here. I know things didn’t go as you’d hoped on Sunday, but I talked to Grandmother. We’re both happy that you found a woman who truly loves you.”
“I did?” Spencer asked with a frown, then corrected himself. “I mean, I did.”
“What does Alisha think of all this?” Brett asked, waving a hand around the space, even though he didn’t want to think about her with his brother.
Spencer shrugged. “She’s never seen it. Because of the competitive nature of the business, there are only a handful of people who actually know what WorkChat is capable of. You lucked out and came on a day when we were testing our newest installation. The receptionist today is actually one of our engineers.”
Interesting as that was, Brett couldn’t get over the fact that his brother hadn’t shared the nature of his work with his fiancée. He knew many men who kept their work and home life separate, but Alisha didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would be content with that. She didn’t sit quietly on the sidelines. He tried to stop himself from probing more, but said, “I hope Sunday didn’t upset her.”
“Who? Alisha? I don’t think so.”
“You don’t know?” Brett tried to curb the impatience he heard in his own voice.
Spencer looked down at his watch. “Hey, I have a meeting in two minutes with one of my designers in Thailand. I have to go. Thanks for coming by, Brett. It’s nice to finally show you what I do.” He disappeared from the screen.
Brett placed his hand on the wall and left it there for the count of ten. When the session ended, the door opened. The receptionist was at his side almost immediately. “Mr. Westerly left instructions for you to be allowed another session if you’d like to experience a different location.”
In the Heir (Westerly Billionaire Series Book 1) Page 5
