The silence in the hallway grew lethal. If Alex could have murdered him with a mere gaze, Drew Fullerton would have lain dead on the sterile hospital floor. Instead, Alex’s anger was subdued to one simple, surprising sentence.
“Why don’t you tell Rachel why she looks so much like my dead wife?”
And just like that, the emotional day took its toil as I wilted right to the floor.
Chapter Twenty
It was a good thing I was already in the hospital. The medical staff was right on top of things before I even hit the floor. A nurse revived me, before leading me toward an empty bed in the room right next to Jonathan’s. Drew was right next to me while Alex hovered in the doorway. I was embarrassed as the nurses checked my vitals and fussed over me, given that – unlike the rest of their patients – there really wasn’t anything seriously wrong with me. In the end they fetched a glass of juice for me to help stabilize my blood sugar and then left me alone with the two Fullerton men who had just successfully blown my mind. The nurse instructed all of us to use the alert button if I started to feel dizzy again. I nodded and rested against the raised hospital bed as I watched her depart. “So glad you waited until I was in a hospital to spring that little bombshell on me,” I quipped as I looked from brother to brother.
“I’m sorry, Rachel,” Drew said softly as he perched on the side of my bed and took my hand in his. “I never thought it would be an issue.”
“It’s always been the issue,” I corrected, before glancing at Alex. “It explains a lot, actually. You’ve done everything in your power to get me to Texas, but you never thought to pull that little nugget of sunshine out of your pocket?”
Alex moved into the room to stand on the other side of the bed. “I meant it when I said that I didn’t want you to get hurt. That hasn’t changed.”
“You’ve tried to convince her to go back to Texas?” Drew asked without even looking his brother in the eye.
“Yes,” Alex answered without apology. “And you know why.”
Drew hopped up to face him. “This isn’t about you and me, Alex. This is about Jonathan. If you can look me in the eye and say, without lying through your fucking teeth, that Jonathan hasn’t done a complete one-eighty degree turn from the closed off little boy he was before, then I’ll pay her way home myself.”
“Hello?” I piped up. “I know you titans of the universe are used to running the show but I do get a say whether I stay or whether I go. And whether either of you can get this through your thick skulls or not, my decision has nothing whatsoever to do with either of you.”
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and struggled shakily to my feet. Drew moved closer to catch me, but I glared at him so powerfully he backed up a step.
“Let me say it to where you both can hear it. I’m not here to be your paid sex toy,” I told Drew. “I’m not here to replace your dead wife,” I told Alex. “And I’m not here to take Elise’s place as the new lady of the house. I’m here because that little boy in the next room needs an adult in his life whose focus and interests extend just a little farther than the ends of their privileged, entitled noses. So get your family crap together on your own time. I don’t get paid enough to fix what’s wrong with the both of you.”
I shrugged away Drew’s hand as I stalked from the room to go check on Jonathan. He had blissfully slept through the upsetting events in the hallway. I scooted a chair toward one side of the bed and curled in for the night. Let the Fullerton men fight it out. I had one job to do it and that was what I was going to do, by God.
Drew must have sensed the shift in my mood because he said nothing to disturb me once he rejoined me minutes later. He positioned another chair on the other side of the bed and that was where we stayed, wordlessly, until morning.
After some work with a physical therapist to learn how to maneuver around on his crutches, Jonathan headed home the next day. He was practically an expert once he hopped out of the car, balancing on one foot with both crutches under each arm. I fussed and hovered, but inevitably he was almost as hard to keep up with on one good foot as he was on two. After a week of carting him around to physical therapy, while juggling the new plans for the Christmas party, I was exhausted but pleased that my favorite little boy was on the mend.
I was happier still that Drew got the hint I wasn’t gunning to be his new bed partner, despite the apparent lack of judgment I showed during our hike. The Universe had responded to my lapse with a very serious wakeup call. I wasn’t about to risk another one.
Instead we all turned our attention toward Thanksgiving. Just as Cleo, Harrison and I had completely decorated and planned for the big day, Drew informed me that he had to make a business trip to Mexico City. I stood before him, staring at him aghast, across from his mahogany desk in his study. “But it’s Thanksgiving.”
“Not in Mexico,” he said as he rifled through his paperwork.
“Do you know how much Jonathan is looking forward to spending the holidays with you?”
He spared me a wry grin. “Don’t you mean with you?” he challenged softly. “Jonathan is used to my travel schedule. He knows I’ll make it up to him when I get back.”
I straightened my spine. “Maybe that’s part of the problem. He needs to know that he is the priority here. Not adding more commas to your bank account.”
Drew slammed his hand down on the desk, making me jump. “I run one of the most respected companies in the world, Rachel. It isn’t some nine-to-five I can shrug off the minute I walk in the door. I am Fullerton Enterprises International. One day, he will be too.”
“I’m glad I’ll be gone by then,” I snapped as I headed for the door.
“Why don’t you say what’s really bothering you?” he challenged softly. “Admit that there is a part of you that will miss your boss our first Thanksgiving together.”
I would have loved to challenge his cocky assumption that there would be additional Thanksgivings together at all, but that ship had already sailed. It would have taken a blast of dynamite to send me running for the hills at this point. I was too invested in Jonathan to go anywhere. I loved that kid as if he had been born of my very own body. It was a bluff I knew I couldn’t pull off.
Worse, he wasn’t completely wrong about my missing him. Though I had put the brakes on our runaway train of lust after Jonathan’s accident, my feelings for Drew had not abated in the least. They were a family with one missing piece; I was a missing piece that needed a family. Deep, deep down I knew I had already slid into place. The longer I stayed, the more I accepted the inevitable.
I wanted to be with Drew just as much as I wanted to be with Jonathan.
I had fallen in love with them both.
I put my hand on my hip as I faced him. “Would it make a difference either way?”
He pushed his chair from his desk and walked toward me slowly, giving me plenty of time to escape the study before he reached me. Unfortunately I was rooted to the spot as he approached. He stopped just inches away and leaned against the frame. “You know I want you, Rachel,” he said softly, causing goose bumps to erupt all over my flesh. “The minute I make you mine, I will do whatever I can to give you the life of your dreams.”
My eyebrow arched. “But?”
“But this is my business. It will always come first.”
My heart hardened as I glared at him. “Yes, because that’s worked out so well for you so far.”
I stomped all the way to my bedroom.
He didn’t speak to me again before he left the following morning.
I remained in a pissy mood for the rest of the week leading up to our big day. We bought a turkey much bigger than we should have, and I was busy baking pies and making good old Southern stuffing full of cornbread, eggs, onions and celery.
Jonathan sat on a stool, his crutches to his side, as he sniffed the poultry seasoning I was about to add to the dry ingredients. “How much of this do you put in?” he asked, since he was my recipe consultant in our holiday
meal preparation.
“Your nose knows,” I grinned. We added a little and sniffed the bowl, repeating the process until the spice was just right. By Wednesday there was nothing left to do but a dish here and there. The emptiness of the day only made Drew’s absence more acute.
I tried instead to focus on Jonathan’s studies, and it was his essay on compassion versus competition that turned my mood around. While Drew was traversing the globe to stay on top of the business world, his son was researching scientific data that suggested humans were communal in nature, and only truly happy when connecting with one another, no matter what the circumstances. We watched documentaries together that supported this idea, so I suggested that we spend part of our holiday sharing our good fortune with others.
Jonathan took the bull by the horns and set us up to work for a mission feeding the needy Thanksgiving Day. I was so proud of him I could have burst, and even prouder still that Cleo and Harrison joined us when we left early that morning.
Only when we got there did I realize that my Jonathan’s plan wasn’t completely altruistic. There stood Alex in a full apron, carrying big metal pans to the serving area. I gave Jonathan the stink eye. “Jonathan,” was all I said, in a tone he usually never got from me.
He reached for my hand with that irresistible puppy dog look in his eyes. “Don’t be mad. It’s family. And it’s Thanksgiving.”
I sighed and allowed him to lead me over to where Alex worked. He greeted me with a surprised smile. “Tex. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Ditto,” I responded dryly.
He shrugged happily. “The more the merrier. Aprons are in the back.”
Though I had spent the entire week cooking and baking, nothing fulfilled me more than dishing out plates of food to the people who passed before me. It put my little petty problems in perspective as I saw fellow human beings, young and old, in various states of need. Yet they still smiled as I spooned food onto their plates. They offered heartfelt thanks that warmed me to the depths of my soul. I had to fight tears more than once, especially when children stopped in front of me for their share.
What a world we could live in that I would return home to a multi-million-dollar Beverly Hills estate, when they couldn’t even say where their next meal would come from.
I was so glad that Jonathan could open himself up to the experience, which I knew would guide and direct his path in the future. He would never forget this day, or all these faces, or how it made him feel to do something selflessly for another.
I was so thankful to Alex for setting this example for his nephew, especially since this was a critical life lesson I suspected Drew had missed.
By the time we cleaned up and headed for home, it was my idea to invite both Alex and his son Max to the house for our own family Thanksgiving that night.
“I’ll be there with bells on,” he offered with that playful smirk that had so vexed me for months.
But it was the holidays, and he, whether I liked it or not, was family.
It was the best gift I could give Jonathan to unfurl the white flag at last.
Jonathan was beside himself all the way home. Even though he’d already spent significant time on his feet, he was itching to help me put the finishing touches on our meal. He pouted all the way to the sofa in Drew’s study, where I made him elevate his leg so that it wouldn’t swell.
“It’s just putting stuff into and taking stuff out of the oven,” I assured as I fluffed his pillow. Cleo brought him a warm mug of cranberry cider while I set up his game system so he could keep himself occupied while we finished cooking.
By six o’clock, the dishes were done, the table was set and the doorbell alerted us to our guests’ arrival. Nothing short of a nuclear blast could have stopped Jonathan from hobbling to his feet and racing as fast as his crutches would take him to the front door.
Alex held young Max in his arms, whose eyes were wide as silver dollars as he surveyed the massive, brightly lit and colorfully decorated home. I reached for him immediately, as Alex struggled to carry an arm load of gifts in addition to his son. The happy little boy hugged my neck tightly as he wound his little body into my embrace. I reintroduced myself and he repeated my name in a little sing-song voice that made my heart melt.
“You gotta see this game!” Jonathan told Alex before he could get through the door. “I just beat the fifth level!”
“Way to go, champ!” Alex praised before handing me a bouquet of fall flowers. “Madam,” he offered with a mock bow. I gave him the side-eye before he reached into the bag hooked on his arm and withdrew a bottle. “For dinner.”
I glanced at the label. “Sparkling cider?”
“Excellent vintage,” he said as he tapped the label with his hand. “With a robust fruity bouquet,” he added in his snootiest accent.
I laughed despite myself. I led our merry troop into the formal dining room. The finest china sat upon the table, with actual silverware and crystal goblets to complete the settings. I could tell from Alex’s face these were steeped in his family’s history. Whether the memories that came with them were good or bad, I had no idea. His face was stoic as he took his place.
Jonathan sat at the head of the table, as he was master of the house while his father was way. He had changed into a suit and held his head high as he presided over our dinner with a princely air that made Alex and I share amused grins on more than one occasion.
He led our prayer, giving thanks for our bounty. My eyes welled with tears when he included all the people we had helped earlier that day, thanking God for the opportunity to help them, and praying that God would continue to bless them and keep them safe.
“Amen,” Alex said softly, and I concurred.
“Most of all,” Jonathan continued, “thank you for Rachel, who gave me back the family I always wanted, especially Uncle Alex and Max.”
When I raised my head, I realized Alex was staring right at me. “Amen,” he repeated.
I dropped my eyes quickly, instead rising from my seat to go to Jonathan and hug him tight. “I thank God for you, too,” I whispered in his ear before placing a kiss on his cheek.
“Rachel!” Max concurred, and with laughter through my tears I gave him a big hug and kiss, too.
We dug into our feast with gusto. There was enough food to feed an army. I suspected we’d be eating leftovers for days. Jonathan enthusiastically detailed all the dishes I had contributed to the meal, including a decadent cherry “salad” made with sweetened, condensed milk, cherry pie filling and whipped cream that was in no way, shape or form healthy.
It was almost gone in a night.
Cleo contributed sweet potatoes with cranberries and brandied pecans while Harrison supplied the traditional green bean casserole. They joined us for the meal, despite their protests of propriety. Jonathan insisted, and they could no more deny him than I could.
It was a festive evening full of laughter and heartfelt, human connection, like any Thanksgiving worth its salt should be.
After we forced down what few bites of dessert we could, choosing between pecan and pumpkin pies, Jonathan dragged us into the study so that we could see his new gaming accomplishment. Max fell asleep nestled in my arms while Jonathan and Alex dueled together on the game. I reached a level of contentment I hadn’t thought possible with Drew’s contentious brother, so I sat in the afterglow of the meal with a sated smile on my face and allowed myself to relax for the rest of our evening.
None of us expected Drew to open the door of his study and loom there in the doorway like an angry cloud.
“Dad!” Jonathan exclaimed happily as he struggled for his crutches to rush to his father’s arms. “Happy Thanksgiving!” he said as he threw his arms around Drew’s neck and hugged him tight.
Drew’s eyes, however, were on the cozy family picture on the couch, with Alex sitting close to me while I cuddled Max in my arms. “So it would appear,” he muttered as he straightened.
Jonathan was so happy to see
his father that he missed how the air in the room crackled with tension. “There’s plenty of food! Let me go get you a plate.” He was out of the door before any of us could stop him.
There was nothing aside from a sleepy baby that prevented Drew from unleashing the wrath his clenched jaw indicated he was trying to contain.
Even that wasn’t enough.
“Well, this is cozy,” he said as he entered the room. “Was this always the plan or did you figure one Fullerton brother was as good as the other?”
“This isn’t Rachel’s fault,” Alex started.
“So it’s your fault again?” Drew asked.
I slid to my feet to take Max far away from the ugliness that was sure to follow. I met Jonathan in the kitchen, who was still all smiles and ready to take his father a plate of food. “I wouldn’t, Jonathan,” I said softly.
My suggestion was punctuated by the smashing of glass from the other room. I led Jonathan into the media room, where I transferred Max into his arms and turned on the TV so they wouldn’t hear the blowup to follow.
My legs shook as I made my way back to the study, where I found both men amidst broken crystal, with Alex nursing his jaw. “What the hell is wrong with you two?” I demanded. “There are children present.”
“Collateral damage, eh, Drew?” Alex taunted, which made his brother flare up again.
“Get the hell out of my house, Alex!”
He just twisted the knife. “Don’t you mean our house? It was willed to the both of us, after all.”
“Stop it!” I cried. “You’re ridiculous, both of you!” I turned to Drew. “Alex and Max are here because I invited them. I did that for Jonathan, because today is about family. You’re the one who made it about money, so you have no right to throw a tantrum now.”
“You’re taking his side?” Drew asked, his mood growing ever more ominous.
“I’m taking their side,” I clarified, pointing toward the media room.
“Don’t bother,” Alex muttered as he approached. “There are some miracles even you can’t pull off.” He glared at his brother contemptuously from the door. “But thanks for reminding me what I’m most thankful for. That I’m absolutely nothing like you.”
Enticed Page 20
