What Matters Most

by Longley, Barbara

  Will paused again. For effect? She peered up at him, only to find him staring intently her way. Their gazes collided and held. Strong emotion flickered through his eyes, emotion he squelched before she could decipher what the look meant. Lord, he was gorgeous, and the magnetic attraction between them was palpable. A mixed bag of regret and shame assailed her.

  She hadn’t treated him fairly, and yet here he was, pleading her case. She focused once again on her folder. Did he miss her as much as she missed him? Did he regret not standing up for her against his parents? She certainly regretted walking away. She didn’t deserve him; she never had. Her vision blurred, and she struggled to hold herself together. She needed air.

  “The fact is,” Will continued in his deep, compelling voice, “this is no longer Haney & Sons. Jo is not the only female Haney employee. She is, however, the first woman to become a full partner, and I am certain she will not be the last. What about her legacy? What about your daughters and granddaughters? Before you vote, ask yourself what Jo’s father would want for this company and for his daughter. Ask yourselves what you want for your daughters.” With that, he sat down.

  Uncle Jack cleared his throat. “Does anyone else want to add anything?”

  No one raised their hand or said a word. Jo’s heart pounded. Not counting her grandfather, who’d only vote if they tied, there were eight of them.

  “All right then,” Uncle Jack said. “All those in favor of changing our name to Haney Construction and Handyman Services, say aye.”

  “Aye,” Josey croaked. Her brothers also said aye, and then there was silence. Dead silence. The rest of her family would not look at her, nor could she look at them.

  “All those in favor of keeping the name as it is, say—”

  “Not necessary,” she bit out. “It’s three to five. The name stays as is.” Stunned, overwhelmed by the fact that Will sat beside her, by talk of the father she missed like hell every single damned day, she just couldn’t take anymore—one more word from anyone and she’d crumble. She had to get out of here before the tears started in earnest.

  She shot up, grabbed her purse and stormed toward escape. By the time she reached her van, tears streamed down her face. Dimly aware, she heard someone calling her. Didn’t matter. She was in no shape for anything but finding a quiet, private place to fall apart.

  “Dammit.” Will kicked a pebble across the asphalt parking lot and watched Jo take off yet again. Unbearable. Unacceptable. He’d been a fool to put himself in this position again. The door opened behind him, and he was soon flanked by Sam and Wyatt. Wyatt handed Will his leather folder. “Thanks,” he said, tucking the folder under his arm.

  “Sam and I are going to go grab some breakfast.”

  “Good for you.” Will patted his pockets, looking for his car keys. Shit. He must’ve left them on the table. He turned to head back inside.

  “What Wyatt means is … we’re going out for breakfast,” Sam said, dangling Will’s key ring in front of him, and then he tucked the keys into his pocket. “You broke our sister. You’re coming with us, so we can figure out how you’re going to fix her.”

  Fix her? He was the one who’d been dumped. Did these two not witness the way she’d taken off a minute ago, refusing to talk to him? Again. Who was going to fix him? “I don’t think so.” Will held out his hand for his keys, stirred up enough for a fight. Jo’s three cousins filed out of the building then, parting to move around him and Jo’s brothers. He imagined Jo’s grandfather and uncles were having a conversation about now.

  “Have a great Fourth of July,” one of the cousins called, eyeing Will curiously.

  “You too.” Sam grinned and waved.

  “Look,” Wyatt said, his face turning bright red. “Jo’s leaving this morning had nothing to do with you. She’s upset, and when she’s hurting, Jo needs to be alone. She’s been like that since forever.”

  “Come on. Let’s go somewhere to talk … and eat. I skipped breakfast to make this stupid waste-of-time meeting,” Sam grumbled. “We knew the cousins would back their dads. Wyatt and I would’ve done the same if our dad had been here.”

  Will closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I’ll go with you, but you two are buying.”

  “Yeah … no.” Sam put his hand on Will’s shoulder and aimed him towards a pickup truck. “Our expert advice is worth the price of breakfast. You’re picking up the bill.”

  “That is, if you want to mend things between you and our sister, the sister we’ve known all our lives.” Wyatt smirked. He opened the back door of his extended cab and gestured Will inside. “You’ve known her, what? A couple months?”

  “Have you two ever considered going into the law?” Seething, Will climbed into the back seat, pushing aside a pile of kid’s toys, picture books and other debris. A booster seat took up the middle, forcing him to squeeze into the seat behind Wyatt. His knees pressed against the driver’s seat. Wonderful.

  “All comfy back there?” Sam grinned back at him.

  “Hmph.” Will kept his eyes on the passing neighborhood as Wyatt drove down Randolph Avenue. He pulled into a parking spot on the street next to The Copper Dome, and old diner. Will had no appetite. Still, he couldn’t deny he was curious to hear what the brothers had to say. They knew their sister better than anyone. Perhaps he’d at least gain some insight.

  Silent and sullen, he followed the two into the restaurant. The interior reflected the diner’s age with old pine paneling and Formica-topped tables that had to date back to the sixties. One of the servers ushered them to a table, placed three menus before them and asked if they wanted coffee. “Yes, thank you, and water,” Will said.

  The waitress left to get their beverages, and Wyatt began. “Before we offer suggestions, we’d like to hear your side of the story regarding the brunch fiasco.”

  “Fair enough.” Will recounted that disastrous morning, explaining the way he’d always dealt with his parents. “Arguing or challenging them only makes things worse.” He snorted. “You have no idea how much worse. At the time, I assumed Jo and I were on the same page. I’d warned her, and I thought she understood my refusal to acknowledge their insults was the best way to handle a bad situation. I know better now. Jo must’ve felt like I’d thrown her to the wolves.”

  “Worse.” Sam huffed.

  Their waitress returned with their coffee and water. “Are you ready to order?”

  Wyatt and Sam ordered hearty breakfasts—on Will’s dime. He ordered toast. “Coming right up,” she said. After gathering the menus from the table, she departed.

  “Where were we?” Wyatt’s brow creased. “Oh, yeah. Jo’s thinking. She says you failed to defend her. She went on about how you were the one who pointed out how important that kind of thing is, and then you let her down. See, because you didn’t put a stop to your parents’ harangue, Jo is convinced your parents are right.”

  “That’s not even remotely true,” Will muttered. “How could she think that?”

  “Which part isn’t true?” Sam asked, arching a brow.

  “That I’m not in her corner,” he grit out. “Her lack of faith and trust in me is the issue here.”

  “Maybe. She does have a tendency to expect the worst when it comes to her romantic relationships.” Wyatt canted his head. “I believe her trust issues stem from the traumatic—”

  “Wyatt, you’re off on one of your tangents.” Sam crossed his arms in front of him and peered at Will. “The question is, does our sister mean enough to you to set her straight? Are you willing and patient enough to help her learn how to trust? If not, then we’ll have breakfast this morning and go on our merry way, our paths never to cross again.”

  “If so, then we’ll help you come up with a plan,” Wyatt added. “Which is it?”

  Heat crept up his neck to fill his face. Yes! Jo means the world to me. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life. She’s all the Christmases and birthday parties I’d always longe
d for and never got. I sure as hell don’t want to lose her. He’d fallen hard for her, and each time he’d been with her, those feelings had deepened.

  Seeing her this morning had split his heart wide open. Jo had lost weight. She had dark circles under her eyes, and she’d gone pale at the sight of him. She had to miss him as much as he missed her. Dammit, she had to.

  He couldn’t say any of that to her brothers. He had his pride, after all. He cleared his throat, shrugged a shoulder, and forced the words through the tightness in his chest. “A plan sounds good.” Jo’s brothers shared a look, and then they both turned their grins on him.

  “She won’t talk to me,” Will pointed out the obvious. “Short of kidnapping her, tying her to a chair and forcing her to listen, what can I do? I showed up this morning hoping she and I could talk after the meeting.” He lifted a hand. “You saw the way she took off.”

  “Let’s save kidnapping as a last resort.” Sam’s gaze slid to his brother. “What we need here is a grand gesture, and nobody does romantic grand gestures better than Wyatt.” He bumped his brother’s shoulder with his fist. “He’s the creative genius in the family. Wyatt’s the one who came up with the plan that helped me to win Haley back after I messed up.”

  Wyatt’s face turned scarlet. “About time you thanked me.”

  “Didn’t I already?” Sam flashed his brother a puzzled look.

  “Nope.” Wyatt turned to Will. “What if we made plans with Jo to go to The Bulldog, our favorite watering hole, and instead of us, she found you waiting for her?”

  “No. What would keep her from turning tail and heading for the door the minute she sees me? Besides, I don’t want to have that discussion in a public place.”

  “Right.” Wyatt sighed.

  He and Jo’s brothers spent the next hour brainstorming grand gestures while eating breakfast. Nothing they came up with sounded workable to him. “Jo is a moving target where I’m concerned.” Will grunted. “It’s looking more and more like I’m going to have to kidnap her and tie her up.”

  “Hmm. Basically, what you need is to get her to stand still long enough to listen to you. Right?” Wyatt pushed his empty plate away, leaned back and gazed off at nothing. He held his coffee mug in both hands, turning it back and forth.

  Will opened his mouth to say something, and Sam shook his head. He held a finger to his lips and nodded toward his brother. Will rolled his eyes.

  “Ha!” Wyatt’s focus returned to Will. “I’ve got it. The perfect plan.”

  “All right. I’m listening.”

  Wyatt explained what he had in mind, and Will’s hopes soared. “Perfect. I just hope this works.”

  “We do too. At the very least, you’ll have the chance to tell your side of the story.” Sam let loose a long sigh. “It’s hell seeing Jo so miserable. She’s always bounced right back and shrugged off her breakups. Not this time. Reminds me of when I broke it off with Haley. Jo is miserable.”

  That too gave him hope for two reasons. If Jo was miserable, that must mean she missed him as much as he missed her. And, if Sam somehow managed to win Haley back, surely Will had a shot with Jo. “When can we do this?”

  “We’ll arrange everything for Friday morning,” Wyatt said. “That way, if things work out between you two, you’ll have the weekend to celebrate. If things don’t work out, you’ll have the weekend to recover.”

  His heart lighter, Will reached for his wallet and placed a nice tip on the table. “If the plan works, I’ll take you, your wives and Jo out for a nice dinner.”

  “We’ll hold you to that.” Sam stood up and stretched. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for …” Giving him hope, a plan of action and fraternal support? This being the first conversation he’d ever had with Jo’s brothers, he couldn’t say that either. “Hey, you still have my keys.”

  “Oh, right.” Sam tugged Will’s key ring out of his pocket and handed it over.

  “Let’s go.” Wyatt emptied his coffee mug in one swallow. “We all have jobs to get to.”

  Smiling for the first time in days, Will stopped at the cashier’s counter and paid the bill. He followed the Haneys to Wyatt’s truck. Today was Tuesday. He had only Wednesday and Thursday to get through before he’d have the opportunity to beg Jo for forgiveness.

  Thoughts of his sexy plumber in his big tub, a bubble bath prepared by him for her, floated through his head. He’d have flowers and candles scenting the air too. He’d pamper Jo from the top of her head to her painted toes. His entire being lit up at the thought of reconciling with Jo, filling his heart near the bursting point. She had to give them another chance; he couldn’t bear thinking about the alternative.

  What he and Jo’s brothers had planned was more akin to a kidnapping scheme than a grand romantic gesture, and that concerned him. God, he hoped the whole thing didn’t blow up in his face.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Yesterday had been a nightmare, but at least Jo’s workload on Tuesday had been home repairs and not new construction. In light of her defeat, working with her cousins would’ve been demoralizing. Good thing she had the holiday off, because she’d planned an entire day of moping. She hadn’t even showered or brushed her teeth. Might as well let herself go altogether.

  Aiming the remote toward her TV, she searched for a sappy movie to watch, something tragic to give herself another excuse to cry. Her phone rang, and Jo’s battered heart beat like bumblebee wings. She nearly shot off the couch. Will? No. Not likely. She’d known he’d wanted to talk to her yesterday, and she would have if she hadn’t been so upset. Coward that she was, she’d bolted. Again. After that, why would he call? She hadn’t even thanked him for showing up.

  She waited for her phone to stop ringing before checking. Sam, not Will. She switched off her phone. Tomorrow she’d shake off the funk; today she’d wallow. Speaking of wallowing, now that she’d decided to let herself go and all, she may as well eat her way through that bag of chips she had stashed in a cupboard. Did she have anything in the fridge she could turn into a tasty dip? Oooh, sour cream mixed with a packet of dry French onion soup would be perfect.

  She pushed herself off the couch and padded to the kitchen. No appetite for days, and today she’d attempt to recoup all those lost calories. Jo grabbed the bag of chips—kettle cooked, her favorite. Then she grabbed the small carton of sour cream from the fridge and rifled through her cabinets for the dry soup mix. “Gotcha.” By bedtime she’d be in a junk food stupor. All stupored up, maybe she’d be able to sleep without the emotional spin cycling going on in her brain.

  Chips and dip in hand, she shuffled back to the couch, ready to eat her way through her sorrows. Jo was halfway through the movie and all the way through the chips when someone pounded on her door. She leaned her head back on the couch, closed her eyes and massaged her temples. Whoever it was, they had to be from her building because her family was at Sam and Haley’s, celebrating the Fourth of July. Whoever stood outside her door pounded again. She scanned her immediate area. What a mess. “Fine.”

  Scowling, she marched across her living room, opened the door … and blinked. “What are you doing here, Gramps?”

  “I might ask you the same thing, Josey girl.” His bushy brows lowered. “You’re supposed to be at your brother’s with the rest of us.”

  “I texted I wasn’t coming.” She finger-combed her neglected hair.

  “Heard you’ve been doing quite a bit of texting lately.” One eyebrow rose, and he fixed her in his grandfatherly stare. “Are you going to invite me in?”

  “Oh. Sorry.” She took a few steps back. “Come in.”

  Her grandfather took in the mess, glanced at her from head to toe and grunted. “Let’s sit down. It’s time we had a little talk.”

  Oh no. A talk. “I’m fine, Gramps. Really.” She flapped a hand in the air. “No need for a talk here.”

  Grandpa Joe’s meaningful gaze slid over the discarded tissues littering the couch and
floor, the empty bag of chips, the bowl of dip, and finally, over her again. “Have a seat, Jo.”

  Huffing out a breath—breath that could fell a moose at fifty paces—she stomped to her couch and plopped down in the center of her mess.

  Her grandfather took the chair and turned off her TV. “I’m sorry about the way the vote went yesterday.”

  “Me too.” Jo pleated the hem of her raggedy T-shirt.

  “Dan and your dad were always very close. You’d expect Dan would’ve been closer to Jack since they were only eighteen months apart, but that’s not the case,” he said. “Dan and Rick were inseparable. All three of our boys got along. It’s just that … I don’t know. Maybe being the oldest, Dan felt more protective of Rick since he was the youngest. Anyway, Dan’s holding tight to anything he has left of your dad, and that includes the name of our company. He’s never gotten over the loss.”

  “I haven’t gotten over the loss either, Gramps. I’ll never stop missing Mom and Dad.”

  “None of us will, honey.” Grandpa Joe’s voice came out a little hoarse. “Are you angry with me about the way the vote went?”

  “No. I realize the whole thing put you in a tough spot.” She bit her lip. “Abstaining was the right thing to do. We were all moved by what Dan said at the meeting. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the room. This”—she gestured to the debris from her pity party—“isn’t only about yesterday’s vote.”

  “Oh?” Grandpa Joe lowered his chin. “Your grandmother and I heard how you broke things off with your lawyer. Through a text was it? Really, Jo?”

  Jo cringed inwardly, grabbed a couch pillow and hugged it to her chest. “His name is Will, and yes I broke things off with him. He’s one of many reasons I’m feeling sorry for myself.”