Giving It All

by Christi Barth

  “Without someone at the helm, there won’t be a foundation. There won’t be any rescues.” Brooke knew it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But this had to be a conversation, not just a one-sided rant. “Why don’t you find out more before assuming the worst? Can you discuss it again with your father?”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ve been ostriching about this. Ignoring it—even though I know it won’t go away. Not talking to you about it—which also didn’t make it go away.” Logan pushed off the springy grass to stand. “Dad wants me to go to the next Board meeting. I’ve gone to some others. Not many. Just when I couldn’t get out of it. But he wants to announce the transition at this one. It’s soon. Too fucking soon.”

  She squinted up at Logan. His face was a shadowy blur with the sinking sun making a too bright halo right behind him. “What happens if you say no?”

  “I tried. Well, I tried once and then stormed out. Because the topic of Madison came up. I kind of threw it in his face. The decades-old secret. The lying.”

  So he had to figure out how to reconcile the man he’d always idolized with a more real, more imperfect version. While at the same time having his idol ask him to do the impossible, and give up his passion. No wonder this big, brave man was tighter on the inside than a double-knotted shoelace. “Have you talked since?”

  “No. Ostriching, remember? What am I supposed to do? Ask Dad why he cheated on Mom twenty-five years ago? Ask if that’s why she’s always treated me with barely concealed disdain? Because maybe she wanted a divorce but stayed with him for my sake? And she resents me for that?”

  “It doesn’t sound like you’ve had your head in the sand. Sounds like you’ve given this situation quite a bit of thought.”

  “I didn’t want to get into it with him until I’d decided what my reaction should be. Because…he’s my dad. I don’t know how to deal with the reality that his actions disappointed me. That his decades of lying to me can’t be shoved under the rug.” Logan snaked out his arm to pull her into the natural crook of his body. Like they were made to fit together, to be together. Brooke didn’t resist.

  “True. But don’t forget that you’ve got Madison. She seems like a pretty great consolation prize.”

  “I think so, too.” They crossed over to the next set of moss-lined steps. “Our first official sibling excursion—her words, not mine—is next week. I’m pretty nervous.” Then he shot her a beseeching look. One so full of exaggerated pathos that it made her laugh.

  “Tough.” Then Brooke wagged her finger right in front of his face. “You know you can’t take anyone else along this time. You can’t truly get to know your sister through the filter of a group.”

  “It was worth a shot. Anyway, I’m not nervous about being with her anymore. Not as much. I’m nervous because we don’t agree on her going to meet Dad. And we left the whole thing hanging out there, like a rotting goose egg.”

  “You’re the kind of person who does a lot of damage at an all-you-can-eat buffet, aren’t you?”

  “I take them as a personal challenge. I believe a real man can eat carved ham, roast beef, a made-to-order omelet, and still have room for eggs benedict. Why?”

  A pipe-playing Pan pointed them down a grassy walkway lined with trees. “You can’t heap all of this onto your plate at once. It’s just too much. You’ve got emotional indigestion just thinking about it. This needs to be a single-serving process.”

  “Why do I feel like I’m being handled? Treated like one of your students?”

  “Effective methods don’t have an age limit,” she smirked. Because, yeah, he’d caught her red-handed. “Look, tackle one thing at a time. Get to know Madison. Don’t bother bringing up the whole issue of your shared father. Not yet. Just spend time with her. That way you don’t antagonize her right off the bat.”

  “Okay.”

  “And don’t bring up Madison to your dad. Not yet. She’s been off the conversational menu between you two for a very long time. Keeping it that way for another few months won’t change anything. Your job situation, though, can’t wait. Start there.”

  Logan nuzzled into her hair. He always seemed to find solace in the gesture. And Brooke was thrilled to her core every darn time he did it.

  “Dad’s always been on my side. I don’t want to disappoint him by saying no.”

  “Maybe you should try again. Without the shock and anger fueling your words. Maybe that would help him hear you, instead of just hearing your hurt.”

  “Yeah. It sure wasn’t the homecoming I’d planned.”

  “This has been a very strange trip home for you, hasn’t it?”

  “Considering it started by beating up my best friend? Oh, yeah. But in another way, this trip home has been the best ever.”

  “Really?” To her it seemed more like a comedy of errors. Without a laugh track or a guaranteed happy ending.

  “Are you fishing? Because I was going to get there all by myself, without the nudge.”

  “No. Of course not…Wait, you mean me? I’m the reason?”

  Logan swept his arm to indicate the private grotto they’d just entered. It was a miniature amphitheater, wide brick seating alternating with grass. An oval pool was sunk into the center, ringed by ancient-looking Roman columns. And the bamboo thicket that ringed it had been draped with fairy lights. Twin insulated backpacks sat at the edge of the shallow pool. It took her breath away. Logan took her breath away.

  “I was given the advice to go big or go home. And I feel most at home these days when I’m with you. So this is my going-big gesture.”

  It was big, all right. Big enough to weaken her knees and make her blink super fast to keep tears at bay. Brooke twisted her head, looking for one of his roommates. She assumed they’d helped, like when they’d staked out spots for Screen on the Green. “Where are your cohorts who brought the food and strung the lights?”

  “Nowhere. I lugged it in myself an hour ago, as soon as they closed for the day. So dinner isn’t fancy. Just sandwiches and chips, brownies and beer.”

  He’d omitted the most important ingredient. “And just you.”

  Logan nodded. “And just me.”

  “Then it’s perfect,” she murmured as she jumped up to throw her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Brooke covered his cheek in kisses as he laughed and carried her across the lawn. Their private lawn.

  He’d been more than clear about the fact that he couldn’t stay. That he wouldn’t stay with her, or even in the States.

  But tonight he’d been equally clear that he cared. A lot. And Brooke would treasure this perfect moment, with her perfect-for-her man.

  The future didn’t matter.

  For now.

  Chapter 20

  Logan hadn’t dressed up to meet his father at the Foundation offices on K Street. Why would he? The whole point he planned to make was that he wasn’t a stuffed suit. That he didn’t belong at the head of a board table. So instead, he’d put on his navy blue incident command vest with the Marsh Foundation logo and seven useful pockets for things like antivenin and his Swiss Army knife. Along with a tee and cargo shirts, that was his real daily uniform. Now he just had to make his father see it.

  When he stepped off the elevator, navy walls surrounded him, with that same Marsh Foundation logo in white. Logan wondered if he could just chameleon against them for a while. Then he wondered why he was being such a pussy. Talking to Brooke had broken the problem down into manageable pieces. It had helped him to remember how close he and his father were. There’d never before been anything they couldn’t work through. His temper had gotten the best of him. Now that he was calm, this second conversation would go differently.

  He hustled past an empty reception desk and several closed doors to the inner sanctum.

  “Logan Marsh, as I live and breathe!” exclaimed his father’s assistant, in front of the executive suite. She pulled an earpiece from beneath her sleek white bob and stood to give him a big hug. “Aren’t you a sight
for sore eyes.”

  He produced a bouquet of pink roses from behind his back. “I think you’d prefer to feast your eyes on these beauties. Especially what’s sticking out of the top.” He’d tucked a gift certificate in there for a full day of treatments at the Four Seasons spa. Margaret worked miracles to get him from one side of the globe to the other. Logan always gave her a special thank-you treat when he returned.

  “You are a sweetheart, Logan.” She sniffed the flowers deeply. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  See? Even Margaret knew he didn’t belong in an office. “I thought I’d take Dad to lunch, since I’m back.”

  “You are the best son ever. Go on in—I won’t ruin the surprise by buzzing him. I’ll just fuss with these in the kitchen and give you two some privacy.”

  Logan didn’t want privacy. He needed the built-in protection of knowing people were around to help him not lose his temper and up his volume. Rapping the backs of his knuckles on the dark wooden door, he opened it without waiting. “Hey, Dad.”

  Adrian looked up, surprise widening his eyes for a second before a smile lit up his face. “Logan. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Taking a deep breath, Logan said, “Really? ’Cause I was sort of a dick last time I saw you. I want to start off by apologizing for that.”

  “You can apologize for the tone. Not for the content.” His dad turned off his monitor and put down his pen. Hands clasped on the leather blotter, he said, “I’m the one who owes you the full-scale apology.”

  “True. And now that we’ve traded those, let’s call it even.” Logan had known he’d have to lead with an apology. But he didn’t want to get sidetracked into the whole Madison discussion. “How about I get a few things off of my chest, and then I’ll take you to lunch at that Greek place you like.”

  “Sure. But I get to start.”

  Crap. Why hadn’t he anticipated that his father would want to go the whole mea culpa route about Madison? “Now, Dad, I only pay if we follow my agenda.”

  Patting the wallet in his pocket, Adrian rose and crossed to sit on the deep blue couch. “I’m good for it, son. Come sit with me.”

  Okay. This was just a slight detour. Logan didn’t have to get into any of it. Adrian could unload, Logan would just nod, and then he could launch into campaigning to keep his current position. It’d push lunch back, but then the plan he and Brooke had crafted could proceed. “Hit me.”

  Adrian leaned into the tufted cushion. Then he shifted, resting one ankle on the opposite knee. “You know your mom almost died giving birth to you. It meant she couldn’t have any more children.”

  Okay, apparently they were doing a cannonball right into the deep end of the shit pool.

  “That’s far from a news flash.” She had reminded Logan of it every time he got detention in high school, and when he had paparazzi helicopters circling overhead for the two weeks he dated the president’s daughter (from the wrong party), and even last year when he hadn’t made it back for Thanksgiving due to a horrific rock slide that buried a village in Chile. Cynthia Marsh had impossible standards, and she seemed to delight in pointing out when people didn’t meet them. Yet she took great pains to emphasize that whatever child she would’ve had after Logan wouldn’t have been such a disappointment.

  “I know.” Adrian leaned over to squeeze Logan’s forearm. “And I’m sorry. But what you don’t know is that she took the news…hard. And became hard. Angry. Angry at me for putting her in such an irreversible condition. Things deteriorated between us. I left her.”

  The news jolted Logan’s spine straight like a kick of electricity. “What? When?”

  “You were very little. Cynthia wouldn’t accept that I left, and I couldn’t force myself to just coldly serve her with divorce papers. So we separated, and told you I was traveling for business. Which was technically true. I was on a trip for the Foundation when I met a woman. I fell in love with her. I even moved all the way to Alaska to be with her.”

  “Madison’s mom.” Once Logan had learned about his half sister, he’d assumed there’d been an affair. But not something this huge and emotionally charged. He couldn’t wait to tell Brooke.

  “Yes.” Standing, Adrian paced the length of the corner office. When he’d spoken of Logan’s mom, the words came out haltingly. The description of his love for this woman, though, flowed fast and easy. “She was a doctor. Easygoing, passionate about helping people, utterly transparent. No games—heck, even no makeup. Suzanne was a fresh breeze in my life. I couldn’t resist her. Even though it meant leaving you, which I regretted every day.”

  If they’d had this conversation even a week ago, Logan might have had a different response. How could a woman get so far under your skin that you could leave your own kid behind? But after the last two weeks with Brooke, it suddenly wasn’t such an impossible concept.

  Shit.

  What was he supposed to do with that self-realization punch to the gut?

  Nothing—for now. This was all about getting his dad to finish the story. “I get it. I was a baby. No good at conversation, or to take to baseball games. Suzanne sounds like a lot more fun than a lump that needed to be changed and burped.”

  Adrian stood in the farthest corner of the office. Right by the glass map of the world etched with a star for every location where they’d proffered aid. “I love you, son. I don’t want you to think that you didn’t matter.”

  That hadn’t even crossed his mind. Because there was a universe of difference between the annoyed, arm’s-length disdain his mom treated him with and the hands-on pride and care Logan got from his dad. “We’re good, Dad. Honest.”

  “Okay.” Adrian closed his eyes for a minute. Seemed to sway, and then caught himself on the window frame.

  Weird. “Did you hit the emergency bourbon a little early today?”

  Adrian kept his hand up for balance for a minute. Stared down the street to where Logan knew the flag on the top of the White House was visible. “Just not enough caffeine this morning. I’ll be fine. So…” Sucking in a deep breath, he pushed away from the window and kept going. “Suzanne got pregnant after I followed her to Alaska. Nine months went by, and she had Madison, and I fell in love all over again. It was a struggle every day, though, every time I looked into her eyes that were a mirror image of yours.”

  This story was killing Logan. And from the grim lines bracketing his dad’s mouth, sharing it was no featherbed of fun for him, either. “Dad—” But an upraised palm cut Logan off.

  “No, let me tell you. I need to say all the things I wanted to tell you back then. I missed you so much. I thought about you all day, every day. Every time I picked Madison up and wondered how much you’d grown. Wondered what I was missing in your life. I didn’t know what to do. How to reconcile the two parts of my life. It was tearing me in two. And then your grandfather died.”

  It all made sense now. Logan knew exactly how he ended up with his father and Madison ended up without him. “You came back to run the Foundation.”

  “I did. The minute I got home and held you, I knew I could never leave you again. It would be too painful.” Adrian almost staggered back to the couch. He dropped down with a sigh. “What’s more, I knew I couldn’t do that with Madison. I had to cut myself off from her. Cold turkey. She was less than six months old, and wouldn’t miss me. Your mother said that if I wanted access to you, I had to stay married to her.”

  His mom had plenty of her own money. Was the demand really all about social status? Not that it should surprise him. “That’s blackmail.”

  A wave of his dad’s hand erased the accusation. “It’s immaterial. Suzanne didn’t want a long-distance affair. It’s all ugly and sordid and ancient history. The long and the short of it is that I wasn’t brave enough to keep Madison in my life. I wasn’t brave enough to put up with the pain of losing her all over again every time we’d have to go to the opposite ends of the continent.”

  Well, at least Logan knew where he got it. Beca
use his dad’s words were eerily like his own. The same reason he hadn’t ever let himself fully connect with a woman before. At least, not until Brooke. Knowing his lifestyle, knowing that he’d inevitably have to leave for months at a time, he’d refused to open himself up to the hurt of losing someone he loved. The pain was too big, too overwhelming. He’d experienced it when his friends had disappeared in the Alps, when he’d thought for three long days that they might be dead. And swore never to put himself in that position again.

  Slowly, he turned sideways on the couch. “I understand more than you’d expect. Talk about a rock and a hard place. It sounds like there was no good solution, so it’s sure as hell not my place to judge the decision you made.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “Yeah. Absolutely.” He leaned over to give an awkward, backslapping man-hug. “Thanks for telling me.”

  With a dry, short laugh, his father responded, “It’s been on my to-do list for a while.”

  If he’d ponied up a hundred dollars, Logan couldn’t have bought a better segue. “Then it’s my turn to scratch something off of my to-do list.” He stood, crossed to the desk, and leaned against its edge. Classic power-seizing technique his father had taught him back in the day. Now he had the height and the center of the room. Logan took over. “We need to talk about my position here at the Foundation.”

  A vein ticked in the older man’s temple. “There’s nothing to discuss. You’re taking the promotion.”

  Not a big deal. Pushback was expected. Maintaining his calm and rational tone, Logan pushed back himself. “Dad, I know that’s what you think you want. But it isn’t what I want. And I don’t think you want your only son to spend his life doing a half-assed job in a position that bores him off said ass.”

  “No, what I want is for you to get an attitude adjustment. Then do an amazing job in the new position you should be honored to have.” Adrian drilled his finger into the sofa to emphasize his point.