“I’m getting that impression. Still enamored?”
Her heart jumped. “With Fin? Of course. We’re having a great time.” Her fist tightened around the two Bloomingdale’s bags she carried. “She’s quite a shopper, and a talker and, well, she’s becoming a good friend.”
“I’m glad, sweetheart. Now, when are you coming home?”
She paused as she reached Amsterdam, gauging the traffic pattern for a quick cross. “My internship lasts until next spring.” She swallowed hard and blurted out the next sentence as she stepped confidently into the street, beating a cab by a good three seconds. “And I hope to have a full-time job at Charisma after that.”
Someone behind her earned a honked horn, and that filled the silence on the other end of the phone.
“Dad? You still there?”
“I’m here,” he assured her. “Just thinking.”
Only a daughter would catch the tiny hitch in his voice. “But I’ll come and visit before that, I promise.”
“Or I’ll come to New York. I miss you, Jessie.” There was no hitch that time, just raw, fatherly love.
“Oh, Daddy. I miss you, too.” Jessie stood at the next corner, staring up at the red bricks of her studio walk-up and blinking back a sudden tear. Was this home now? This aging, metropolitan building with thirty-six stairs up to an apartment the size of Oscar’s stall?
Yes. It was. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t visit the Silver Moon. That was home, too. “Why don’t I come back for a long weekend next month?”
“I’d love that,” he replied, his voice rich with relief. “Pick a date.”
And then an idea took hold. Fin had told her just that afternoon that she wanted to meet Jessie’s father. Quid pro quo, she called it, for all the time Jessie was taking to get to know the Elliotts. “I’d like to bring Fin there, Dad. To meet you.”
He snorted. “That city woman wants to come out to a cattle ranch in Colorado? Does she know there’s no shopping here?”
Jessie bit back a smile. Was he intimidated by the idea of Fin Elliott on his ranch? Her big, tough cowboy of a dad?
“You know, I think you’ll like her,” Jessie mused. Maybe that was a stretch, but Jessie clung to the hope that she could make everyone happy with this impulsive offer. “How about Columbus Day weekend? We’ll have closed the February issue and Fin and I can come from Friday to Tuesday.”
She could be away from Cade that long, couldn’t she?
“That’s perfect.”
As she opened the lock to the front door of her building, her attention was drawn to the floor. And the steps. And the landing to the first floor. “Oh my…”
“What is it?” her father asked.
“Lilacs,” she whispered.
“Lilacs?”
Everywhere, as far as she could see, every square inch of the ground and the stairs was blanketed in a snowfall of lilac petals.
“Oh, Cade.” Her heart just folded in half from the pressure of how much she loved him.
“What are you talking about, honey?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, Daddy.” Well, it was something. She just didn’t know what. “Someone left something for me at my apartment.”
Gingerly, she tiptoed over the petals and turned the corner at the next floor. More lilac petals.
“Who is Cade?”
It must be a father’s job to assume the “never miss a thing” responsibility when a mom was gone. “He’s, uh, a guy I work with.”
“The executive editor,” her father said knowingly. “The one you had drinks with a while ago. About the shadowing job.”
The stairs to the third floor were no different. A blanket of lilac petals. “Wow, this is unbelievable.”
“What is?”
She suppressed a giggle of delight. “That you really pay attention, Dad. To everything I tell you.”
“Of course I do. Is he there now, this Cade?”
Sort of. She climbed the last set of stairs to the fourth floor. “Uh, no. I’m home, at my apartment. Oh, there’s more!”
At the door was a giant bouquet in a glass vase, with a card tucked into the green fronds between the puffs of lilacs.
“More what?”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I have to go. I just got home and…there’s a message here.”
“Honey, are you being straight with me about this Cade?”
She lifted the card and leaned on the door, her gaze traveling over the bed of petals all around the hallway. “Well,” she said, “I am sort of…”
“You’re in love.”
She let go of the laugh that had been caught in her chest. “Yeah. I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Well you better bring him along next month,” Dad said softly. “I’ll want to see how he does on a horse.”
“No, I can’t,” she gasped. “He can’t come back to Colorado with me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want to keep it secret. We work together. He’s my boss, sort of.”
Her father cleared his throat. “Angel, I can guess who will take the brunt of this thing if it doesn’t work out. I don’t want to see your heart broken.”
Jessie slid the card open and read the words.
Make no mistake about it, the outside read. She didn’t open the card, but answered her father. “I’m watching my heart, Dad.”
“And, you know, an affair with a co-worker, especially your boss, well, it can be career suicide.”
Affair. The word cut through her. “I’ve heard that, too.”
“So what’s more important to you? This guy or this job?”
She flipped open the card.
I’ll miss you tonight. Love, Cade.
“Can’t I have both?”
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I wish your mother were around to ask. She’d know what you should do.”
Jessie’s gaze fell on the lilacs, the familiar, comforting scent wafting up from the bouquet.
“She’s around,” Jessie whispered.
Everything in the Starlight Roof ballroom high above New York City sparkled. The crystal champagne flutes, the tapered candles on the tables, the tiny white lights that floated above the room named for them. But most of all, Fin sparkled.
Jessie marveled at how beautiful her birth mother looked, floating between the round dinner tables to check last-minute changes in seating, a strapless black dress clinging to her slender build, the blunt cut of her auburn hair grazing her shoulders. Every time Fin glanced at Jessie, she beamed.
Jessie stood next to one of the massive arched windows that lined one long wall of the legendary room, drinking in the beauty of the setting, plucking at one of the ruffles on her Oscar de la Renta dream dress and letting the surreal wonder of it all settle over her.
No matter what happened with Patrick and Maeve, she felt loved and welcomed. Now she had two families, and that was a blessing she’d never really expected.
Would they ever blend, her two lives? How would her gritty, gruff father take to the champagne-sipping executive who’d given Jessie birth? For some reason, Jessie wanted her father to like Fin as much as she did, and to realize that although she and Fin would be friends and confidantes, Jessie would always be Travis and Lauren Clayton’s daughter.
But tonight, she had to deal with the New York side of her family.
With Patrick and Maeve…and Cade.
“He’s not coming.” At the whispered words, Jessie wheeled around to meet Shane Elliott’s green eyes.
“Cade?”
A flicker of surprise brightened his expression. “No, I believe Cade RSVP’d the day the invitations arrived. I meant Patrick.”
“Elliott?”
Shane lifted one handsome brow. “I don’t know any others.”
Before she could respond, Fin swooped in. “What’s the matter?”
Shane and Jessie shared a quick look and in her peripheral vision, Jessie caught sight of Fin’s chin lifting a bit in defiance.
�
��I knew he wouldn’t come,” she said.
“We’re not sure,” Shane responded. “But Liam told me that when he left the office yesterday, Dad said he and Mom were spending the whole weekend relaxing at home.”
Home, Jessie knew, was a luxurious Hamptons estate called The Tides. Patrick commuted by helicopter, so getting to and from the city, even on the weekend, was no issue for him.
If he wasn’t coming, it wasn’t because he couldn’t. It was because he wouldn’t. She hated the disappointment that formed a lump in her throat, and hated even more that she could see the same emotion on Fin’s face.
“It’s all right,” Jessie said softly. “Really.”
“It’s all wrong,” Fin countered. “But I don’t care.”
She did, and Jessie knew it.
Liam Elliott joined them with a drink in hand, the first of three hundred people invited to the spontaneous gala.
It was no surprise that Liam’s steely blue eyes locked on Jessie as he approached. He may have seen her around the offices, but now she was a bit of a curiosity and she braced herself for the onslaught of stares and conjectures from the hundreds of people she’d meet.
Fin put her hand on Jessie’s shoulder. “Have you met my nephew, Liam Elliott?”
“Not formally,” Jessie said.
As Liam reached them, Fin said, “Liam, let me introduce Jessie Clayton, who I’m enormously proud to announce is my daughter. Jessie has been raised by her adoptive parents in Colorado, as you know, and I hope you’ll join me in welcoming her to the Elliott family.”
The words sent a shower of chills cascading down Jessie’s bare arms. She slid a grateful glance to Fin before shaking Liam’s hand. “It seems we’re cousins, Liam,” she said with a warm smile.
“Welcome to the family, Jessie.” He shook her hand, studying her face closely. Looking for a resemblance he would no doubt find. Then he leaned closer and added, “I can certainly understand why Cade has officially removed himself from the market.”
Jessie’s jaw slackened.
“Cade?” Shane asked. “Removed himself from what market?”
Liam winked at Jessie but Fin put her hand on his arm. “Is Shane right? Did my father tell you he wasn’t coming tonight?”
Liam’s gaze softened. “I don’t think he is, Fin.”
She blew out a disgusted breath and closed her eyes.
Jessie slid her arm around Fin’s waist. “Don’t let it spoil the night for us.”
“You’re right. And look who’s here!” Fin’s face lit up with a smile. “Summer and Zeke, who get the award for coming the farthest on the shortest notice.”
Jessie had met Scarlet’s twin only once and had immediately liked the “softer” version of the beautiful sisters. But her gaze fell on Summer’s fiancé, the world-famous rock star, Zeke Woodlow. The cubicles of all the EPH magazines still vibrated with the story of how Summer met Zeke when she was posing as the more flamboyant twin.
Fin tugged Jessie in the direction of the new arrivals. “Let’s make you official with more cousins, and you can meet the bad boy of rock and roll.”
Zeke whispered something to Summer and when she laughed, his handsome features softened with pleasure.
“He doesn’t look so bad,” Jessie said under her breath.
Fin laughed. “It’s all an act. He’s a cupcake inside, especially when it comes to Summer.” As they greeted each other, Fin launched into introductions, eliciting a squeal of delight from Summer and a nod of welcome from Zeke. A minute later, Scarlet and her fiancé, John Harlan, joined them.
“Save your ‘she’s special’ speech, Fin,” Scarlet said as she draped an arm around Jessie. “I love her already.”
Then Gannon Elliott stepped into the circle, his arms around his pregnant wife, Erika.
“The best thing about Fin finding you is this,” Gannon said, indicating the steadily crowding ballroom around them.
“The party?” Jessie asked.
Gannon gave Fin a smile. “A wonderful reason to stop competing for a night and enjoy our family and friends, which keeps growing.” He laid a hand on Erika’s protruding belly. “One by one.”
Everyone laughed and chattered about the twins’ planned double ring ceremony, with lots of teasing about the possibility of even more Elliotts.
Scarlet and Fin made sure Jessie was included in the conversation, so that one by one, the Elliotts would get to know her. Most of the Elliotts, anyway. The absence of her birth grandparents niggled at the back of Jessie’s mind. And Fin’s, Jessie noticed, as they’d both glanced expectantly at the door a few times. But they weren’t looking for the same man.
They knew where Patrick Elliott was…but where was Cade?
Within an hour, the ballroom burst with gowns and jewels and tuxedos, and the strains of a soft jazz band filled the multi-tiered room, just loud enough to blend in with the laughter and party talk.
Even though Jessie had met nearly every one of the Elliott family, or had seen them around the EPH offices, Fin made formal introductions every time, each exchange slightly different, but always with the same irrefutable message: This is my birth daughter and we welcome her with open arms.
Fin held Jessie’s hand, moving from one group to another, pausing just once to take champagne flutes for the two of them from a passing tray. “Here, have some bubbly and stop looking at the door. He’ll be here.”
Jessie smiled and they let the crystal flutes ding lightly. “You’re looking, too, Fin.”
Fin sipped the champagne and lifted a narrow shoulder. “I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t want my father here. And my mother. They owe that to me. To you.”
Jessie gave her an understanding look. “He’ll come around, Fin. It’ll take time.”
“I don’t care,” she said, a little too flippantly. “Anyway, what about Cade? I know he’s coming. He told me he wouldn’t miss it. He said he can’t wait to see you in that dress.” Fin waited one beat too long and added a sly smile. “Again.”
Jessie felt the heat rise as she touched one of the zillion layers of mint organza that floated around her. “I may have mentioned to him that you let me borrow the de la Renta.”
“Keep it,” Fin said, taking another sip.
“Fin, I can’t!”
“Yes, you…” Her gaze slid past Jessie to the door and suddenly the blood drained from her face as the sly smile disappeared. “Can.”
Jessie followed Fin’s eyes and the champagne glass almost slipped from her hand as she stared at the distinctive gray-haired gentleman and felt the piercing gaze of eyes the color of a hot gas flame. The patriarch of the Elliott family stood as tall and proud as any of the men he’d sired or grandfathered, and next to him, the gentle Irish woman who’d been at his side for fifty-seven years.
Only the music filled the air as Patrick and Maeve Elliott stood like royalty under the marble rotunda entrance, because all of the guests took a moment to stare, hold their breath and wonder exactly what would happen next.
“I don’t believe it,” Fin whispered, more to herself than to Jessie.
Jessie squeezed her hand. “Believe it.”
Fin’s narrow shoulders squared and her delicate jaw hitched up a notch as she met her father’s level gaze. The fifty or so people between them seemed to part in slow motion, allowing the two women to stride, hand in hand, across the room. Jessie’s chest constricted as her heart pumped wildly, and she could feel Fin’s pulse doing the same dance.
Jessie chose to look at Maeve, seeing a mix of warmth and curiosity in the green eyes that were so much like her own. Her seventy-five year-old skin was careworn, but surprisingly few wrinkles appeared on her face. Was that because she wasn’t smiling?
Why wasn’t she smiling?
Jessie stole a glimpse at Patrick, who still stared at her and not Fin.
It seemed to take forever to cross that room, to cross that gulf that separated father from daughter and granddaughter. Then, Fin and Jessie reached the r
otunda and all four of them seemed to freeze.
As Fin cleared her throat, Jessie followed her lead and looked directly into the unwavering gaze of her grandfather.
“I’m so happy you came,” Fin said, her voice steady but soft. “And I’m delighted to introduce you to Jessie Clayton. This is my—”
“Ooh.” Maeve let out a soft cry as she reached out to Jessie. Automatically, Jessie took her hands and Maeve clasped them tighter. “Look at you,” she whispered, her soft Irish lilt already musical to Jessie’s ears. “’Tis no doubt you are one of us.”
Jessie dared a glance at Patrick. His gaze had moved to Fin and they stared at each other wordlessly.
“Dad, I’d like you to welcome Jessie Clayton to our family.” It was a demand, not an invitation.
Behind her, Jessie felt a movement and glanced to see Shane walk up and take her other side. “Isn’t it fantastic?” he said, putting an arm around Jessie. “After all these years, we’ve found her.”
“If the truth be told,” Maeve said, squeezing Jessie’s hands but looking up at her husband, “she found us.”
“And for that,” Fin said, “I am eternally grateful.”
One single vein pulsed in Patrick’s neck as he stared at his daughter. “I did what I thought was right.”
Fin nodded slightly. “And now I’m doing what is right.”
He dragged his gaze to Jessie. She straightened imperceptibly under his inspection and suddenly remembered one question she forgot to ask Fin. What to call him?
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jessie said softly. “I’m honored and so impressed with your family…sir.”
Seconds crawled by. Behind her, a crystal glass dinged against porcelain and the saxophone player melted the last few notes of his song. The elevator door opened and someone far away whispered.
But all of Jessie’s focus stayed on Patrick Elliott. The man who had shaped her life when he’d decided her fate. And she waited for him to do so once again.
“Jessie,” he said, his gruff voice exactly like her father’s when he wanted to sound stern but couldn’t. “The grandchildren call me Grandad.”
She blinked at him and felt Fin stiffen.
“And what should Jessie call you?” Fin asked.
Dynasties:The Elliots, Books 7-12 Page 44
