by Ana E Ross
That could not be good for him.
But then he smiled, and the light in his eyes assured her that he was okay with her. He seemed grateful that she’d been there for him. It was easy. He’d come to her rescue twice today.
“Uncle Bryce.” Alyssa stared up at him. “I don’t have a mommy anymore.”
“That’s why I’m here, Alyssa.” Kaya smiled at her. “Your mommy and daddy asked me to take care of you, and Jason, and Anastasia.”
“But you’re not a mommy. You’re my Auntie Kaya.”
“We can pretend I’m a mommy.” Kaya wiped a lingering tear from Alyssa’s cheek. “I’ll do all the things your mommy used to do with you.”
“Like play dolls, and hide and seek, and take me to ballet?”
“Uh-huh,” Kaya said of the short list of things that were most important to her.
“And I’ll be your pretend daddy, if you’d like, Alyssa. We can do all the things you and your daddy used to do together.”
“You’ll make me oatmeal for breakfast, and take me skiing and for a sleigh ride on the lake, and dance with me and twirl me around and around?”
“I’ll do all that, and more, my baby. I love you, and Jason and Anastasia very, very much.”
Alyssa laid her head on his chest. “But my heart is broken, Uncle Bryce. I’ll never see my mommy and daddy again.”
Bryce stoked her hair as a fresh batch of tears gushed down her face. “You’ll be sad for a very long time, Alyssa, but your Auntie Kaya and I will always be here for you. We’ll take care of you.”
“Promise?”
“We promise,” they said in unison as their gazes met and held over Alyssa’s head.
They were making promises they both knew were impossible to keep. Kaya hadn’t crossed Palm Beach off her list, and Bryce was still determined to keep them in Granite Falls. How could they make such a promise when they lived on opposite sides of the east coast?
“It’s for you. Somebody named Jack.” Jason shoved the cordless receiver into her face.
She watched the muscles in Bryce’s jaw tighten and his eyes darken like an angry storm cloud. She understood his rage. Jack’s timing couldn’t be worse. What did he want? He had some nerve calling her after the way he treated her last night.
“Who’s Jack?” Alyssa asked.
“Your Aunt Kaya’s fian— friend.” Bryce set Alyssa on the floor and stood up. He took the phone from Jason and pressed it into Kaya’s hand. “Talk to Jack. I’ll take care of the kids.”
The threat in his voice and the hardening of his eyes told her he wasn’t just talking about the moment, but from here on in. Since they’d returned from Samantha’s office, he’d been nice to her. Jack’s call had changed his attitude.
The formidable Bryce Fontaine was back.
He bent down and took Anastasia from her. “Come on, kids. Your aunt needs some privacy.”
“Bryce, wait. There’s something you should—”
He silenced her with a menacing stare and stomped down the corridor with Alyssa and Jason tailing behind him.
Kaya slumped back against the cushions, swallowing the scream of frustration that rose to her throat. The inopportune timing of a stupid phone call had just shattered all the progress they’d made today.
As she watched Bryce and the kids disappear into the nursery, Kaya felt as if she’d just lost her best friend before she had a chance to get to know him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You okay, buddy?” Bryce asked Jason as they drove toward Elliot’s Funeral Home.
Jason nodded and fidgeted with the gold statue of a skier he’d won in a downhill competition last winter.
Michael had coached him for months while Lauren complained as usual that he was pushing Jason too hard, that he expected the boy to live his own dream of becoming an Olympic skier.
Bryce recalled the pride on Michael’s face as he watched his son steal away from his two most competitive opponents in the last fifty yards to swipe first place. It was worth all the hard work.
“That boy is gifted,” Michael said as they enjoyed a cup of hot chocolate at the resort café afterwards. “I’ve taken him as far as I can. I just wish I had the means to have him professional trained for the Olympics.”
“He can still be,” Bryce assured his friend.
Michael chuckled. “Sure. Do you have any idea what it cost to train for the Olympics—private teachers, private coaches, proper clothing and state-of-the-art equipment? He’ll be away from home, so there’s room and board.”
“I have no idea what it’ll cost,” Bryce responded. “But I’m pretty sure I can afford it. Fontaine Enterprises can sponsor him as long as it’s Jason’s dream and not yours.”
“I can’t let you do that. You’ve given us so much already.”
“All the more reason I should do this for Jason, if that is what he wants. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t be here.”
Michael frowned over the rim of his mug. “How do you figure that?”
“Think about it. If I hadn’t pulled you out of that half-frozen pond that day, you would be pushing up saplings by now.”
Michael nodded in agreement. “You have a point there. Each person we meet in this life is put there for a specific reason. You hounded me for weeks trying to persuade me to teach you to ski, and I kept ignoring you until that fateful day. If it weren’t for you, I would never have had the chance to meet my sweet Lauren, and make three beautiful babies with her.”
“Three! Lauren is pregnant again?” Bryce exclaimed.
“Yep,” Michael said with a sly grin. “We just found out.”
“Well congratulations, my prolific brother.” Bryce reached across the rugged table and slapped him on the shoulder heartily.
“This is the last one,” Michael said. “Alyssa has already shaved ten years off of my life. That child is so full of energy. I can’t keep up with her. I’m too old for this, Bryce. It’s your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
“We already know why you were placed in my life. Question is, why was I placed in yours? There must be something in it for you. Maybe you’ll meet your next true love through me, and stop chasing after the wrong women. Have a second chance at love.”
“I like chasing the wrong women,” Bryce responded truthfully.
“I understand. You don’t want to be hurt again. I love you like a brother, Bryce, but I can’t let you go on pretending that my kids are yours.”
“Michael, I don’t—”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Michael interrupted. “I appreciate everything you do for them, and it warms my heart to know that if anything should happen to me, you’d be there for them, and Lauren. Pretending they’re yours is good for them, but it’s not good for you. You need your own brood to carry on your family name. My children are Rogers. They will never be Fontaines.”
“Did you see them already?”
Screech!
Bryce pulled into the driveway of the funeral home. He parked in a space close to the door, engaged the emergency break, and unbuckled his seatbelt before responding to Jason. “Yes. I’ve seen them.” He’d come by the day he’d returned home, just to make sure Kaya wasn’t a figment of his imagination, and that he wasn’t caught up in another unending nightmare.
“How do they look?”
“Peaceful.”
“Like they’re sleeping?”
He nodded.
Jason fidgeted with the trophy he would put in his father’s casket. He’d written a letter to his mother and sealed it in a purple envelope—Lauren’s favorite color. It was inside the pocket of his jacket, close to his heart.
Bryce looked up as an SUV parked next to them and a family of three generations piled out of it. A young girl was carrying a wreath with a white banner that read, “Goodbye Grandpa. We love you.”
That was the order of things.
No young child should ever have to say goodbye to a parent. And this child had to say goodbye to both.
Where was the justice in this world?
Jason unbuckled his seatbelt and scooted across the seat. Bryce wrapped the boy in his embrace as they sat quietly for a few precious moments. Bryce knew he was stalling, putting off the moment when he would see his parents lying in death. His heart bled for him.
“Do you dream about Aunt Pilar every night, Uncle Bryce?” Jason broke the silence.
Bryce swallowed the lump in his throat. Last night Jason had begged him to stay at L’etoile du Nord, but for obvious reasons, he’d taken him to his penthouse suite at Hotel Andreas instead. Fearful that Jason might hear his screams, Bryce had brewed a strong pot of coffee and retired to his den to work on the eulogy for Michael and Lauren.
He’d dozed off and the dream had come. He’d awakened to Jason shaking him and calling out his name. Bryce wished he could erase the memory of his screams from the boy’s mind. “Not every night.” He rubbed his chin in Jason’s soft, straight black hair. “Only when something happens to remind me of what happened to her.”
“Like Mommy and Daddy dying?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you hate God, Uncle Bryce? Don’t you want to go to heaven to see Aunt Pilar and Mommy and Daddy again?”
Bryce inhaled deeply. He would love to see his wife again, even if were just to tell her that he was sorry. He blamed himself for not protecting her. He was angry with God for not sparing her. But he didn’t hate Him. “I don’t hate God, Jason.”
“But you told Daddy you did.”
“I know what I told your dad. When Pilar died, I was very hurt and angry. When we’re hurt and angry, we say things we don’t mean. Did you mean it the other day when you said you hate Him?”
“No. I was hurt and angry, too. I still am.”
“I know.” He paused. “It’s okay to have those feelings, but eventually we have to learn to deal with our pain and our loss in a different way.”
“Daddy said you deal with your loss by chasing after the wrong women.”
The words pulled a cynical chuckle from Bryce. “Your daddy said a lot of things. He was very wise like that.” I wish he’d been wise enough to accept the damn truck.
“I hope they like the clothes I picked out,” Jason said, crawling back across the seat.
“I’m sure they will, son.” Bryce swallowed back another lump and willed his heart to be still.
Jason thought his parents should be buried in their best ski outfits with poles and skis in tow, just in case it snowed in heaven. Bryce couldn’t think of anything Michael and Lauren would enjoy more than spending eternity on the slopes, hand in hand. That is, if it snowed in heaven.
* * *
Bryce had just put Anastasia down for a nap and was on his way back downstairs to rejoin the guests who’d gathered from the funeral service when the house phone rang.
He hurried to the nearest connection—the sitting area of the second floor and picked up the cordless extension. He froze for a moment as he recalled his conversation with Alyssa in this very spot, two days ago. Besides burying his wife, telling Alyssa that her parents were dead was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. He’d broken Alyssa’s heart. The memory of her tears and the sounds of her sobs would haunt him for a very long time. He hoped that in time he’d find a way to put the shattered pieces of her little life back together.
Bryce straightened up, pressed the answer button, and raised the receiver to his ear. “Hello?”
“Who’s this?”
“Who’s this?” Bryce was taken aback at the question, even as he recognized the voice.
“Jack. Kaya’s fiancé. Can you grab her for me?”
Bryce sucked in a sharp breath and walked to the railing overlooking the spacious first-floor parlor where people stood or sat around in small groups, talking. The air was still pulsing with life—music and chatter—because that is what Michael and Lauren wanted. No mourning, they’d instructed, just laughter and cheer. And laughter and cheer is what Bryce had given them. He’d invited the funeral attendees to L’etoile du Nord, and hired Andreas to cater the event.
It was getting late, and the important guests, like Pastor Kelly, Samantha, and the faithful members of Granite Falls Community church, had already made their judicious departure. He was quite anxious for the rest to scoot, most of whom were a bunch of free-loaders who’d jumped at the opportunity to see the inside of his home and feast on Andreas’ cuisine for free.
Bryce’s gaze zeroed in on Kaya. She was among a group of four women who were sitting on the cushioned steps leading up to the fireplace. Alyssa was straddled across her lap, nibbling on a piece of chocolate cake. There was no doubt in Bryce’s mind that Kaya was the most beautiful woman in the house. She looked poised and sophisticated in a lovely black and white silk dress, and she didn’t seem to mind that Alyssa was smearing cake all over the front of her dress. She was the perfect picture of a devoted mother who would put the needs of her children ahead of hers. Bryce liked that about her. A lot.
Libby was at her side, he noted with relief. Bryce had overheard a few hushed conversations among the young women as he moved through the groups, so he’d commissioned Libby to shadow Kaya to deter the town gossipers from filling her head with rumors about him and the other members of the Billionaire Club—a club that comprised of himself, Erik LaCrosse, who was also the children’s pediatrician, and the Italian cousins Adam Andreas and Massimo Andretti, all of whom were presently out of the country on personal and business affairs.
Except for Erik, who had recently remarried, all of the members of the Billionaire Club had notorious reputations with women. It was a small town, and for some undetermined reason, Bryce did not want Kaya’s opinion of him influenced by embellished tales of his sexual dalliances.
“Hey, did you hear me? I asked you to get Kaya for me.”
Bryce started. He’d totally forgotten about Jack. “Kaya is busy,” he said in a clipped tone.
“Busy doing what?”
Bryce stifled a grunt. “We just returned from a funeral, Jack. Perhaps you should call back after our guests leave. Goodbye.”
“Hey, wait a second. That’s why I’m calling. To see how the funeral went.”
“It went as funerals go.” If you’re so concerned about Kaya, why aren’t you here with her?
“Is this Bryce? Bryce Fontaine?” Pause. “Of course. Who else would be answering the phone but the man of the house? Hey, brother, I’m sorry about your friends, and those poor little kids… your godchildren, right? I can’t wait to meet you.”
“You seem to know a great deal about me, Jack, when Kaya hasn’t even mentioned you.” If he hadn’t overheard that conversation the other night, he probably still wouldn’t have known of Jack’s existence.
He was beginning to understand why Kaya had kept him a secret. Nothing to boast about. Thirty seconds on the phone and Bryce was ready to swat Jack like the annoying little bug he was. One look at the scrawny, squinty-eyed man from the pictures the private detective had faxed him yesterday, and Bryce knew he was a loser. He still hadn’t read the report on Kaya’s past he’d also received. He wanted Michael and Lauren buried before he and Kaya began their next round of attack, whatever it was.
“Well, you know how it is,” the bug spoke again.
“No, I don’t know how it is. But I know this much,” Bryce stated, his eyes drinking in the delicate softness of Kaya’s heart-shaped face, his heart racing with the memory of her comforting arms when his own grief had overwhelmed him, “if Kaya were my fiancée, I would be with her at a time like this.”
“She’s fine, isn’t she? Just remember, she’s mine. Don’t you forget that while you guys are up there playing house,” he added with a snicker.
The tone of his voice and the implication of his threat sent a cold chill up Bryce’s spine. “Is there a specific message you would like me to relay to Kaya, Jack?”
“Yeah, brother, tell her I’m flying up tomorrow. I mean, since we’re getting married, the children shou
ld meet their new daddy, don’t you think?”
Bryce’s fist curled so tightly around the ivory railing, it hurt. “Kaya is free to marry you if that’s her wish. As for my godchildren, you’ll be their daddy over my dead body. Don’t you forget that, Jack. And one last thing, don’t call me, brother. As a matter of fact, don’t ever call here again.” Bryce marched to the table and slammed the receiver into the cradle.
He stood in the center of the room shaking, having no idea what infuriated him more: Jack’s assumption that he would become the children’s new daddy or his claim that Kaya was his.
He tried to curb his anger as he strode toward Jason’s bedroom. The door was closed, but he could hear voices coming from inside. He’d noticed Jason and Ethan heading into Jason’s room a while ago. Over time, a handful of other children from Jason’s school and church had sneaked up the stairs to join them. At least, for a time, the boy could think about something other than the fact that he’d just lost his parents.
The support of his trusted friends was the best medicine for Jason, Bryce thought as he continued downstairs.
Michael and Lauren weren’t here to fix the problems their deaths had caused. They had no idea what was best for their children. He didn’t give a damn what their will stated, or what their last wishes were. It was time Kaya made a decision.
Negotiations were off the table—not that they were ever on it, anyway.
From the bottom of the stairs, Bryce took a derisive glance at the crowd scattered around his house. Having no desire to rejoin them, he took a left turn under the stairwell and stole away to the library. Once inside the sound proof room, he lit a fire in the fireplace then removed an original van Gogh painting from a wall to reveal a hidden safe. He deftly punched in the security code and retrieved a large envelope.
Comfortably seated in a chair near the fire, Bryce ripped the envelope open.
* * *
With a glass of scotch in one hand, Bryce stared out the Palladian window into the cold gloomy night hovering above the lake. It was hours since the last guest had left and the children had been put to bed. The house was quiet. Quiet enough for him to hear the ghosts lurking in the shadows.
