by Layla Hagen
“No, I’ll call them myself.”
The skyline in Sydney is still pitch dark, but I feel wide awake. Partly because I’m still functioning on San Francisco time. My body usually needs two days to beat the jet lag. But I’ve been on high alert since talking to Blake. After talking to Caroline, my mind started to spin. My priority, for now, is to make sure no reporter dickhead bothers her or her family any longer. The never-ending to-do list I’m dictating for my assistant is the start. Then I’ll have to go through my own to-do list, call the right people, starting with Coleson and Stanhill.
“Are you getting any sleep?” she inquires.
“Got in a few hours. They’ll have to do.”
“So, you’re going to be working in both timezones?”
“Looks like it.”
“Well, have fun. I’m gonna start on the mile-long to-do list you just dictated to me. Bye, Daniel.”
“Bye.”
I’m going to call Stanhill first, then plow through the list of people I have to talk to. That should prevent me from replaying the conversation with Caroline in my mind over and over again.
Damn it, I can’t stay in my room anymore. I’ll go to the hotel’s gym, make all the calls while running on the treadmill. I need to move. Dressing in running gear, I head to the gym and am surprised to see a young woman behind the welcome desk. When I read the gym was open twenty-four hours a day, I assumed it was entirely self-service. First-class service, I suppose.
“Good evening.” She smiles, hands me two towels. “Jet lag?”
“Yeah.”
“We get that a lot. There are refreshments in the bar area inside the gym.”
“Thanks.”
There are three other hotel guests inside the gym, but I find a treadmill far enough away that I can make my calls without disturbing them.
I’m in the middle of my third call when Blake’s name appears on the screen. I politely tell my conversation partner I’ll call him back, then answer my brother.
“Did you find out which publication he was from?” I ask without further ado.
“Yes. A-Lister Laundry.”
“Okay, just got off the phone with Stanhill. He’s drafting up all the cease and desist papers.”
“I also talked to an insider from Hollywood Gossip,” he says, referring to the tabloid that first published the picture. “You were right. They did get the picture from Justin Hamel.”
“The idiot just signed his sentence. I’m going to sue the crap out of him.”
“Did you talk to Caroline? Tell her this won’t happen again? That it’ll be easier to deal with the press once she knows what to tell them?”
“Yeah, I did. The conversation didn’t go the way I hoped.”
“So talk to her again.”
“I will. She said she’ll call me back. I’m still waiting.”
“For fuck’s sake, don’t wait too long. Our sisters insist women need time to mull over things, but all my evidence points to the contrary.”
“Thanks for the advice, Blake. I need to call Stanhill back. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Sure. But I’m serious. Don’t wait too long.”
After clicking off, I rewind the conversation with Caroline in my mind for the millionth time. I felt her slip away from me during our conversation, and I didn’t know what to say to win her back. For that matter, I still have no clue what to say, or I’d call her back right this instant. The fear and worry in her voice paralyzed me.
I need a damn good plan before I talk to her, but my mind seems to be filled with fog thanks to the jet lag.
No matter how I spin it, this is all my fault, and the worst of it is I can’t guarantee it won’t happen in the future. What if something worse happens next time? What if Caroline herself gets in an accident? Just the thought of something bad happening to her gives me heartburn.
In the past few weeks, I looked up a few adoption agencies, familiarized myself with the process. I want to spend the rest of my life with Caroline. I can see us together, in our home, complete with a white picket fence and a brood of kids. I want to hear her laughter every day, hear her soft breathing at night sleeping next to me, warming my bed and my life. I need her.
I love this woman. I want her safe and happy, always.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Caroline
“You don’t need to babysit me.”
The conversation isn’t going the way I hoped, though it’s nothing less than I expected. Dad hasn’t been upset by the news that he can’t spend the night in his own house right until I made the mistake of saying the new arrangement means I can keep an eye on him.
“Dad, you had a serious fall. If you don’t want me keeping an eye on you, I’ll talk to the doctor, ask him to keep you overnight.”
“You got your stubborn streak from your mother.”
I barely suppress a grin. Dad can be such a child when it comes to hospitals. I have no power to convince a doctor to keep him for longer than necessary, but Dad hates hospitals enough that he doesn’t want to risk me asking. Niall managed to get hold of the CT scans too, and his opinion mirrored the doctor’s here.
I’m waiting for Dad to change in the bathroom when I hear two familiar voices coming through the open door.
“They said room 23B, right?” Summer asks.
“Yes. Oh look, it’s this one. The B is a little faded.”
The second voice belongs to Jenna Bennett. I smile for what feels like the first time today when the two women step inside the room.
“What are you doing here?”
“We just found out about the whole incident.” Jenna glances around the room worriedly. “Where’s Martin?”
I motion toward the bathroom. “Changing. They discharged him a few hours early, so we’re going home.”
Summer smiles, holding up one forefinger. “We have a proposition. Since you can’t go back to Martin’s house tonight, why don’t we all go over to Mom and Dad’s? Plenty of space, and more people to look after Martin.”
I look from one woman to the other and barely bite back the impulse to hug them both. It isn’t just the space I’m grateful for, but the company.
“That would be great, but let’s see what Dad says. Whatever you do, don’t mention the part about looking after him.”
“Men.” Jenna shakes her head, waves a hand. “Leave this to me.”
Dad steps out the next second, his eyes widening. “Quite a welcome party, eh?”
Jenna smiles sweetly. “We would’ve been here earlier, but we just found out. Lucky you were still here. You’re in excellent shape, I see.”
“Thank you,” Dad says, with an air that indicates he’s thinking, Finally, someone sees things my way.
I’m taking mental notes. First step, buttering up.
“Can I tempt you with a homemade dinner at our house? Maybe even spend the night? We had the grandkids over the weekend, and since they left, the house is so empty. Richard and I could use the company.”
I stare at her. Forget taking notes. That level of mastery cannot be achieved by simply following a set of instructions. Even Summer looks at her mother in appreciation.
“She even plans to make chocolate mousse,” Summer adds. Man, what a low blow. Chocolate mousse is Dad’s favorite.
“Well, I had a concussion, not a heart attack, so I’d better eat as much sugar and butter while I can get away with it.”
And the matter is settled.
Dinner lasts well into the night. Since Dad slept plenty during the day, he isn’t in a hurry to go to bed. I stay with him out in the gazebo after Richard, Jenna, and Summer turn in.
“Great people, the Bennetts,” Dad says.
“They are.”
“What’s on your mind, child? You’ve been sad the whole day, and it’s not just about me.”
I never could hide my feelings from Dad, so I tell him about the conversation with Daniel, my doubts, my fears. I even let a few tears slip. It’s dark, and I’m sitting on the opp
osite side of the table from him. No one can see.
“Don’t you worry about me. Next time an idiot shows up, I’ll hose him. See how he follows me around soaking wet. I was just unprepared this time.”
“But—”
“Caroline, you’ve loved this man for almost ten years.”
I open my mouth, close it again. Can’t argue there, and in any case, Dad didn’t frame it like a question.
“Now you’re telling me that you think you’re not right for him because... what? Your lives are not one hundred percent compatible? Because you think a schoolteacher isn’t glamorous enough for him? Good enough for him?”
I haven’t actually uttered any of those words, but obviously Dad can make more sense of my jumbled words than I can.
“Let me tell you something. You’re worth everything, and Daniel knows this. And another thing? Compatibility is overrated. Your mother and I agreed right out of the gate on maybe ten things during our entire marriage. Why do you think you kids each have two names?”
The corners of my mouth twitch. My middle name is Siobhan. “Which one was your idea?”
“Siobhan.”
“Thank heavens Mom stuck to her guns, then.”
Dad laughs, then goes serious again. “If I said black, she said white. If there was only one option available, she’d make up the second one just so we could disagree about it. And I don’t regret any of those moments. She was the love of my life. I’d give a limb to have her back. And if it was the other way around, if it was your mother here in front of you, she’d say the same.”
The tears are falling in earnest now, and I’m not even bothering to wipe them away. And Dad isn’t done.
“Nothing came easy for us. Moving all the way from Ireland, away from our parents. Starting a family here with no one to rely on. Every couple has their challenges. Everyone has problems. That’s life. One challenge after the next. And the best thing by far is to have someone you can love and trust by your side to take on those challenges.”
I wipe my eyes and cheeks dry.
“Daniel is a successful man, and success comes with its own set of challenges. As I said, challenges come in many forms. With patience and compromise, you’ll get far. You’ll both make mistakes, but if you’re willing to work on them together, they’re halfway solved already.”
“Wow,” I say finally, moving to Dad’s side of the table. I don’t hesitate to lean into his open arms.
“Still my baby girl, eh.”
“Yeah.”
“Sleep on this, baby girl, and tomorrow give him a call. Talk to him. You’d be surprised how everything seems doable once you talk it through.”
We make our way back to the house, but once I’m on my own, I dial Daniel’s number. I can’t afford sleeping on it. Thanks to the time zone difference, he’ll be asleep after I wake up, and I want to hear his voice, talk to him now. Except the call goes directly to voice mail. Maybe he’s in a meeting. I pace around the house, go to the kitchen. There is still some chocolate mousse left, and Jenna insisted so much for me to eat it at dinner that she won’t mind if I eat it now, right? I need some sustenance.
I concentrate on the sweet treat, and after half an hour dial his number anew, but I get voice mail again. I have a sour taste in my mouth, despite having just swallowed the last of the mousse. Energy strums through me and I head outside, take a long walk on the property. An hour and a half long. Whatever meeting he’s in, there have to be breaks. I try him again to no avail.
My heart seems to weigh double as I return to the house and climb in bed. When I talked to him today, I felt him put up some walls of his own. Will I be able to get through them? To reach him?
***
Since I go to bed at four o’clock, I wake up feeling hungover the next morning. I might have done a bit of crying in my pillow too. I’m still clasping my phone. That’s how I fell asleep. I look at the screen and my stomach plummets. I have no messages, nothing. Thank God I took the day off today as well. I wouldn’t have the energy to deal with a group of kids.
After dressing, I go down to the kitchen, only to find Dad already there and looking much better than I feel. Jenna is trying to feed him the contents of her entire fridge. I smell bacon and eggs, and my stomach rumbles. How I can still be hungry after all the mousse I had last night, I don’t know. But hungry I am.
“Morning,” Jenna greets. Dad merely waves, chewing on his breakfast.
“Where are Richard and Summer?” I ask.
“Summer’s at the gallery. Richard is in the gazebo, repairing a loose board.”
We make small talk over breakfast, and I do my best to assess Dad’s health status without seeming overprotective. He truly does look much better than yesterday. He’s no longer pale, and it helps that he isn’t wearing the hospital gown anymore. He looks like my strong father again, not the sick man he seemed yesterday.
After breakfast, Dad goes out to help Richard, despite mine and Jenna’s protests.
“I’m not a sick man.” He shuts us down and strolls out of the room.
While I help Jenna clean up, my mind races to Daniel. Even if he had back-to-back meetings, he could at least have texted. Now I’m worrying not only that he might have dumped me cold turkey, but that something bad actually happened to him. For the tenth time this morning, I wonder if I should ask Jenna if she heard from him, but I don’t want to worry her.
“Someone ate up all the chocolate mousse last night,” Jenna comments with a smile.
“Was hard to resist it, knowing it was in there.”
Jenna looks straight at me, and I have the distinct impression the woman can read my every thought.
“I was going to make apricot jam today,” Jenna says.
“Oh, I’d love to help.”
Working side by side with Jenna is pure bliss. She radiates calmness, relaxing me, making me feel safe, loved.
“It’ll pass by quickly,” Jenna says out of the blue.
I snap my head up from the table where I’m slicing apricots. “What?”
“This media attention. The good thing about gossip magazines is that by the time a new day rolls around, no one cares about yesterday’s gossip.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“This happened to us too.” Jenna takes the apricots I sliced and pours them into the large pot on the stove. She’s now with her back to me, so I can’t see her expression. “In the beginning, when Bennett Enterprises was on the rise, getting a lot of media attention, Richard and I had our share of run-ins with overeager reporters. It wasn’t always easy. We weren’t used to that kind of life. We had to be careful who we spoke to, what we said.”
I strongly suspect Jenna hasn’t told this to any of her kids, for fear she might sound ungrateful. “But rough patches come and go. Can’t all be smooth sailing, can it?”
“No, it can’t. But you’ve done a brilliant job with all of it, if you don’t mind me saying.” I join her at the stove and put a hand on her arm. Jenna is right. It’s exactly what Dad said too, and I make up my mind on the spot.
I need to see Daniel. Forget calling him. I mean, the man isn’t answering anyway. But I want to talk to him face-to-face. Once I was young and stupid, let him slip away from me. I’m definitely not that young anymore, and I like to think I got smarter over the years.
I will head to Sydney on the next flight. I thought about this the entire morning. What held me back was the fear Daniel wouldn’t want me there, and the price of the airfare. Buying a ticket on such short notice comes with an astronomic cost—about a month’s worth of rent. It would make a dent in my already depleted savings, but I don’t care. It will be worth it. As to Daniel, well... I just won’t let him push me away. I allowed it once, won’t do so again.
There’s also the small fact that I’m supposed to be working for the rest of the week. I’m not so sure the principal will be so understanding, no matter how good my cocoa cookies and donuts are. But I just have to take the risk. There’s n
o way around it. I’m all in, and I want Daniel to know this. I’ve been all in from the beginning but was afraid to admit it, even to myself. Not anymore.
“Jenna, do you mind if I leave in about an hour?”
“Oh. Why?” Jenna stops in the act of stirring the pot.
“I want to fly out to Daniel. The next plane to Sydney leaves in a few hours. Need to go home to get my passport and pack a bag.”
Jenna chuckles and raises both hands, sending a few drops of marmalade flying around the kitchen.
“Ah, I can’t let you do that, my child.”
I blink. “Why?”
Jenna checks the time on the grandfather clock on the wall. “Because Daniel will be landing in about four hours.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Daniel
By the time I step out of the plane, my legs are stiff. My entire body is protesting. A trip to Australia is always exhausting. Reversing the trip within forty-eight hours is insane.
I was afraid I’d fall asleep during the cab ride to my parents’ house, but I needn’t have worried. The cabbie’s murderous driving skills have me on high alert.
When he slows to a stop, I tip him anyway, out of sheer joy that I survived the ride. I walk the long path from the gate to the house, my spirit lifting with every step. I called Mom as soon as I had any semblance of a plan. I could’ve called any of my siblings, but when the going gets rough, no one’s better at being on top of things and calming the waters than Mom. I also knew Caroline needed Mom’s soothing presence after the entire incident.
I can’t wait to see the look of surprise on her face when she sees me. As I approach the front door, I see my father and Martin on the far end of the property. From here, I can’t assess Martin’s appearance, but I assume the man is recovering well if he can traipse the distance.
I follow the sound of Caroline’s and Mom’s voices to the kitchen. Caroline is laughing, and I let the sound wash over me, melt away some of my worries. As soon as I step in the kitchen, I feel like I’m literally going to melt. There are about a million degrees inside, but I forget all about it at the fantastic sight in front of me.
