Trade It All (The Barrington Billionaires Book 3)

by Ruth Cardello

  Willa stood up, walked around the table and put her arms around Lexi. “I know that now. At the time I was ashamed. I was the responsible virgin in the family. I gave in one time and got pregnant. I didn’t want to be pregnant. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to be someone who would abort a baby, but I didn’t see another option at first. I spent weeks torn between telling you or staying silent. I almost called Lance about a thousand times. Everything was so screwed up between all of us, though, that I couldn’t. Not that you wouldn’t have been there for me, but I couldn’t get past what had happened. I didn’t think I could handle raising a baby, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt I could make it work. I could love that baby. And I did love it. I wanted the baby. Then I started bleeding in the shower one day and I knew . . . even before the doctors told me what had happened . . . I knew. I can’t begin to describe the guilt I felt. Did I wait too long to see a doctor? Was it the drinks I had before I realized I was pregnant? Was it all somehow my fault? I felt that it was. How could I tell anyone how I felt when I had the added guilt of being relieved in a way that my life wouldn’t change? But it did change. I’m not the person I was before the baby. I never will be again.”

  Lexi stood and hugged her back. “I’m an idiot. I don’t know how I didn’t see it.”

  “I could have said something, but I wanted to forget. It’s why I couldn’t look at Lance without getting upset. Whenever I was with him it brought back all of that. I wanted to put it behind me.”

  Lexi straightened. “I don’t know what else to say except I’m so sorry.”

  There was a time when Lexi’s apology was all Willa wanted, but it now paled in comparison to what was really important. They were finally talking openly, honestly. “I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel badly. I’m trying to say that I’m sorry, too. I tried to rein you in because I was afraid. Mom and Dad followed their adventurous dreams and that decision took them away from us. I followed mine once, and I felt like I lost everything, including my sense of who I was. I didn’t want to lose you, too. I thought if I could keep us both on a safe path, I could somehow stop anything tragic from happening. I didn’t mean to make you feel that you weren’t good enough, Lexi. I never thought that.”

  Returning to her seat, Willa gulped down the rest of the wine in her glass. Lexi moved closer and said, “I don’t let myself care when things go wrong, Willa. I guess that’s my way of controlling things. If I don’t care, it can’t hurt me. I told myself there was nothing I could do to make things better between us because I didn’t want to think it could be my fault. If it was, then I’d have to find a way to fix it and face the possibility that I might not be able to.”

  Willa took her sister’s hand in hers. “Even when I was at my lowest, I always loved and appreciated you. You’re my best friend. And you always will be.”

  Lexi gave her hand an equally strong squeeze. “I love you, too.” She cleared her throat and in a much lighter tone said, “Can we move on to the important part? Lance? How did that happen?”

  Willa chuckled even as she wiped the last trace of tears from her cheeks. “That’s your fault. You and that damn flash mob.”

  “That wasn’t actually my idea. Do you remember the dinner party at the Barringtons when Dax brought Clay with him for the first time? He and I were doing shots of tequila while watching you and Lance sneak looks at each other. I don’t remember all the details of it, but we got into a debate about life and if anyone actually achieves happiness. He asked me what would make me happy. You know how sappy tequila makes me. I said I wish you and Lance would finally see that you belong together. Clay bet me he could make that happen.”

  Willa frowned. “Wait, you had me dance for Lance on a bet?”

  “Technically, yes.” Lexi waved a hand to dismiss that portion. “But the two of you are together now.”

  “I don’t know,” Willa said somberly. Over a couple more glasses of wine, she brought her sister completely up to date. She didn’t hold anything back. She started with how Dax hadn’t seemed to want her to work for Clay. “Oh, my God, I wonder if Dax knew about the bet?”

  “Does it matter?” Lexi asked. “It worked.”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter how we got together,” Willa said, not completely convinced. “Being with him, Lexi, is so good it’s terrifying. I keep waiting for it to end.” She told Lexi about the playful way she and Lance had staged a second first meeting. She walked her through the wonder of their craft fair date and how much she’d enjoyed meeting his friends. She told her about touring Emily’s museum, being caught by Asher, and his reaction to them dating. Before Lexi had a chance to comment on that, Willa went on to describe how welcoming everyone had been when she’d gone to dinner with the family. She kept the intimate details of Cape Cod to herself but shared how amazing it had been to be with him. Her smile wavered however when she retold how a phone call had stopped her from finally telling him everything and how strained the long ride home had felt. “I know this sounds paranoid, but I don’t know if I believe that there was really an emergency at his office. Am I being ridiculous? Why would he lie?”

  Lexi wrinkled her nose. “I would tell you to call him, but I’m buzzed. I wouldn’t take my own advice right now.”

  Although Willa didn’t feel drunk, she’d definitely had more than her norm. “I can’t call him. What would I even say? I can’t ask him if he lied to me. Who admits to that?”

  “Do you want me to do it?” Lexi asked then quickly added, “Just kidding.”

  Willa waved a finger. “Not funny. So not funny.” But she found herself smiling.

  Pouring the last of their second bottle into her glass, Lexi said, “He’ll call. He said he would, didn’t he?”

  Resting her head on one hand, Willa thought back over their parting conversation. “Come to think of it, he didn’t say he would.”

  After a long pause, Willa raised her head slightly. “What did you promise Clay if he won the bet?”

  Lexi covered her eyes and groaned. “That’s the part of the conversation I can’t remember. I’m not too worried about it, though. I don’t believe an inebriated bet is a binding agreement. He hasn’t mentioned it since, so he might not remember either.”

  Lance went for a long run that night and another one in the morning before heading to his office. He threw himself into working furiously on the Capitol Complex plans for the next few days, hoping to find some clarity in that distraction, but he didn’t. All he saw when he looked at his proposal was what it lacked.

  He’d redesigned the open space to allow for flow and optimal space, but there was nothing to draw people in. It lacked heart.

  Like me.

  Willa needs someone who loves her. Why can’t I say those words?

  I want to be with her. What’s holding me back?

  He spun his chair so he could stare out the window of his office. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted his aunt’s journal sticking out of the corner of his computer bag.

  That book, a fucking old woman’s ramblings, is somehow the answer—but to which question?

  He cleared his desk and retrieved the journal. On a piece of graph paper, he copied the numbers from the pages that led up to where Patrice had torn out pages. Patterns emerged. Some of the numbers repeated in sequence.

  Instinctively, he reached for his phone. “Willa, I figured it out.”

  “What?”

  “All the numbers in my aunt’s journal. Some are phone numbers, but the rest is a code. Names, addresses. It’s a fucking code. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

  “What do you think it means?”

  “It means I’m going to Aruba.”

  “So the problem at work is resolved?”

  “What problem? Oh, that. I—” Fuck. “Willa—”

  “There wasn’t a problem, was there?”

  In the quiet moment that Lance used to choose his next words, Willa hung up.

  I told mysel
f I wouldn’t hurt her this time. I swore I’d do it the right way.

  Why do I keep fucking this up?

  That question plagued him for the next two days. He almost called her a hundred times, but stopped when he realized he didn’t yet know what to say.

  On a whim born in frustration, Lance flew to Aruba and tracked down the first name on the list. It was a doctor. Lance shamelessly bribed the record’s clerk at the private hospital where Kenzi and Kent had been born to look up the name. He hadn’t delivered the babies, but he’d worked there at the time they were born.

  Where was the doctor now?

  He died in a car crash that same month.

  And the doctor who had delivered Kenzi and Kent?

  Dead from a heart attack during the same time period.

  Lance went to the address that had been written in code, but no one there knew the name that had been written next to it. Refusing to give up, Lance checked into a hotel and searched through his wallet for the little black card with the white phone number on it. He paced his hotel suite and called it and when he heard someone pick up, he said, “I’m in Aruba.”

  “Good.”

  “I found a code in the journal. It’s names and addresses.”

  “I know.”

  “If you knew, why not say it? Is this some kind of game?”

  “Did you locate the people from the list?”

  “So far they’re all dead.” Even as he said the words they sounded unbelievable to him.

  “That doesn’t sound like a game to me.”

  Lance rubbed a hand roughly over his forehead. “How much? Name your price. Just tell me what you know.”

  “Keep your money, Lance. The more I get to know your family, the less I’m sure pushing you was the right decision. Go home.”

  “Go home? Are you fucking serious?”

  “I don’t want your death on my conscience.”

  “My death? I don’t understand. What happened here?”

  “It’s bigger than I thought and not worth the risk. Go home.” With that, the woman hung up and didn’t answer when Lance tried to call her back.

  For a few more days, Lance tried to locate the other people on the list. He hired a local private investigator, who tracked down one of the men. He had lived with his sister at the address from the list, but they’d moved away years ago. Twenty-eight years ago.

  No one knew where they’d gone or had heard from them since.

  They’d simply disappeared.

  All during the time his parents were in Aruba. Every answer he found led to more questions.

  After another frustrating day without answers, Lance paid the investigator to keep digging and flew back to Boston. He knew he had to tell his brothers what he’d discovered but decided not to until he knew something for sure. Anything.

  Even though he’d arrived home late, Lance drove over to Willa’s place and called her. She didn’t pick up.

  His phone beeped with an incoming message. I don’t want to see you.

  He texted back, I understand why you’re not happy with me. I’m an ass. But I’m an ass who is parked out in front of your building, hoping he can make it up to you.

  I don’t want you to. Sorry you drove over here for nothing.

  And there it is. We’ve come full circle again. I’m sorry. More groveling. I shouldn’t have lied to you.

  I can’t do this, Lance. Being with you can be so good, but then it hurts so bad. Please, just stay away from me for a while.

  Lance rested his head on his steering wheel. He felt sick to his stomach and more miserable than he could ever remember feeling. He wanted to rewind to the first time they were together and handle her declaration of love better. He wanted to go back to the previous weekend and not have lost his shit when she’d been about to say it again.

  Is this how love feels?

  Or am I dying?

  On impulse, he did something completely against his family’s code. “Dad, do you mind if I drop by? I need to talk to you about something, and it’s important.”

  “Absolutely.” The urgency in his father’s voice was attributable to the novelty of the request. Barringtons didn’t ask each other for advice. No matter how dirty and bloody they got in the trenches of life outside the family, they knew not to bring problems home.

  “It’ll take me about forty-five minutes to get there.” Considering the late hour, he knew he probably should have gone to see him the next day, but he couldn’t wait.

  “I’ll be here,” his father said.

  After hanging up, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His parents might not have the perfect marriage, but they’d stayed together through rough times. There was no question that his father loved his mother and vice versa. Maybe his father could make sense of his son’s tangled insides.

  When Lance pulled into his parents’ driveway he was surprised to see several cars there. Asher’s, Grant’s, Ian’s and, if Lance wasn’t mistaken, Dax’s.

  Shit.

  The door flew open. With slightly mussed hair as if she’d gone to bed then gotten dressed again after his call, his mother stood in the doorway and beckoned him in. “I heard your father telling Asher to come over quickly, and I was worried. What’s wrong, Lance?”

  A lifetime of training had Lance automatically answering, “Nothing, Mom.”

  Sophie closed the door behind her. It was opened a second later by a concerned looking Dale. Sophie waved him away and said, “Give us a moment alone, please.”

  Dale reluctantly closed the door again.

  Sophie moved to sit on the top step and said, “Sit with me, Lance.”

  Lance took a seat beside her. This was uncharted territory for him. “I didn’t mean to wake everyone up. I should have waited until tomorrow.”

  Placing her hand on Lance’s arm, his mother said, “You’re exactly where you belong. Especially if something is troubling you.”

  “It’s nothing important.”

  Sophie sighed and her hand dropped. “I used to think I was a good mother—”

  “You are—”

  “Let me say this. My mother died in childbirth having me. I never knew her. I don’t know if my father ever forgave my sister or me for that. People say he wasn’t the same after she died. I don’t know because all I knew was the man who looked through me instead of at me. No matter what my sister or I did, it was never good enough. He might have wanted to love us, but we knew he didn’t. I moved away from my family because I wanted my own children to be raised differently. I wanted you to always know exactly how much you were loved.” She blinked back tears. “After we lost Kent, I fell into a depression. It was rough on all of you. Especially your father. He wanted to fix everything that was wrong, but sometimes you can’t. So he tried to give me the perfect family he thought I needed. Kenzi opened your father’s and my eyes to what we’ve done well and where we’ve failed you.”

  “Mom, I don’t know what Kenzi said, but you didn’t fail anyone.”

  Sophie squeezed Lance’s forearm with one hand. “I’m not perfect, Lance—far from it. Your father isn’t either, and that’s okay. Love isn’t about never being wrong. It’s taking the best and the worst of who we are and knowing that we’re better together than we could ever be apart. I’m not as fragile as everyone thinks I am. You can get angry with me. You can disappoint me. I’ll still love you. Whatever problem you’re wrestling with, Lance, you can bring it to my door—night or day, and I will always want to hear it. Because you’re my son. And that bond is stronger than anything life can throw at us.”

  Hearing his mother’s description of love was freeing. Lance had grown up thinking of love as something so delicate it might shatter from the slightest application of pressure just like his mother. Yet, there she was, facing her mistakes and the reality that her children weren’t as happy as they pretended to be, and she wasn’t falling to pieces.

  Maybe love was a little more resilient than he gave it credit for.

 
He sat quietly beside his mother for several long moments. Then he said, “I think I love Willa.”

  With a gentle smile, Sophie asked, “You think? Not sure?”

  Lance raised and dropped a shoulder. “She’s perfect for me. I am happier when I’m with her than I’ve ever been without her. And I’m more miserable when we’re apart than I can put into words. We’ve only really started dating, and I’ve already said stupid things and hurt her again. Probably the best thing for her would be if I stayed away from her, but I can’t seem to.”

  “Love by definition is scary as hell. Do you know why?”

  Lance shook his head.

  “It’s an all or nothing decision. You have to believe in it to fully feel it. It not only requires that you give yourself over to it, but if you don’t trust it, it withers like a plant without water. You can’t think you love someone, Lance. You have to know it. Imagine your life without Willa in it. If you can do that, and see yourself happy without her . . . walk away. But if the idea of being without her tears you up inside—if you would gladly trade everything you have for one more day with her—then she’s the one for you.”

  Lance thought about his friend Neil and how much he regretted losing Linda.

  I’d be a hundred times worse.

  I don’t want to go a day without Willa.

  Lance leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek. “I love her, Mom. I love Willa Chambers.”

  Sophie smiled. “I know you do.”

  “I need to tell her.”

  His mother glanced down at her watch. “Maybe not at this time of night. Everyone is here. Why not come in and at least say hello? Your father dragged them all here for an emergency family meeting. Poor Dax, I don’t know what he was expecting, but he came. Kenzi, too. Emily is home resting.”

  Lance stood and helped his mother up. “They’re going to kill me.”

  Sophie linked her arm through his. “Not on my watch.”

  Lance chuckled. He’d never imagined his mother as plucky as she sounded. “I like this side of you, Mom.”