“What?”
Amy looked to the left, then right, finally zeroing in on the public restrooms that flanked the central elevators. She shoved her briefcase into Jacquie’s arms and half ran in the opposite direction from where she should be going.
“Amy?” her assistant called after her.
“I can’t,” she mumbled, steadying herself against the wall. “I just can’t.”
* * *
AMY PUSHED THE BATHROOM door open and stumbled inside, entering the first stall and locking the door behind her. Sinking to the floor, her back to the door, the skirt of her suit twisted around her thighs, she covered her mouth and fought the screams that seemed to be building from the weakest part of her.
Why had she thought she could do this? What insane part of her had actually thought she could pull this off? One glance from her ex, one reminder of the pitiful person she’d been when they were together, and she’d turned into a trembling, hand-wringing weakling. What kind of corporate manager could she possibly make?
The memories grabbed at her. The anger, the arguments and the tears. The futile attempts to find the courage to fight back or leave. How many times had Richard convinced her she needed him? How many times had she gone crawling back, promising to try harder to make him happy?
She couldn’t do this. She shouldn’t be here. Closing her eyes, she focused on the one and only thing that could get her through the paralyzing fear.
Becky.
Her daughter smiled back from Amy’s memories. Then came a flash of her little girl being held in Gwen’s comforting embrace. Remembering that her family was happy and safe hundreds of miles away in Sweetbrook worked like a sedative on Amy’s galloping heart rate. She reached for her necklace, then realized Becky was wearing it now, and the loss of her tangible link to her child nearly sent Amy into hysterics again.
Then from out of nowhere came the memory of Josh’s hand touching her, his eyes full of concern, then filling with warmth as he bent to kiss her. As he showed her how it felt not to be alone.
The urge to feel his touch again was almost as intense as the need to hold her daughter.
Well, neither is going to happen right now, Amy, so get it together.
Don’t you dare let Becky down!
Controlling her breathing, she pushed herself off the restroom floor, the panic attack receding enough for her to cringe as she brushed her hands down her skirt. Richard had been right; she was a mess. But she still had to make an appearance in the meeting with Jed Westing, so that’s what she was going to do.
She stumbled out of the stall toward one of the tiny sinks, turning on the hot water. A glance in the mirror confirmed that the tears still streaming down her face had relieved her eyelashes of most of their mascara. The inky substance had melted into messy trails smudged on either side of her nose.
She scrubbed her hands beneath the scalding water, longing to shower from head to toe from just brushing up against her ex. Then she grabbed a fistful of paper towels and went to work on her face.
“Amy?” The outside door creaked open and Jacquie poked her head in. “You okay?”
“I will be.” She forced a smile as she turned, still rubbing at her ruined makeup. “I really blew it back there, didn’t I?”
Jacquie shrugged as she stepped into the restroom. “I told Mr. Westing that you felt sick in the lobby and had to excuse yourself. He has no reason to doubt me.”
“Yeah, but Thomas knows the truth.”
“Thomas is a grunt. His job is to keep Westing happy.”
Amy dabbed at the coffee stains on her blouse, then threw the wad of paper into the trash bin. How had she ended up here, hiding out in a corporate restroom instead of taking care of business? Counting on Thomas Fuller, of all people, to cover for her?
“What was Richard doing here?” Jacquie asked.
“The same thing he always does wherever he is, dominating everything in sight.” Amy swallowed the panic bubbling up again. “Who knows how many clients he has in this building? I was bound to run into him eventually, even if he spends most of his time these days commuting back and forth to his New York offices.”
“I couldn’t believe it when I looked up and saw him towering over you.”
“You couldn’t believe it.”
“I think you handled it well.”
Amy gave her friend a disbelieving look.
“You held your ground,” Jacquie countered. “The man’s a jerk, Amy, and for years he enjoyed making you feel like you were worthless. The fact that you made it up the elevator before you fell apart is an achievement all by itself.”
“Yeah, I’m a real all-star. Tell that to Mr. Hutchinson when he hears what happened.”
“He’ll understand.” The sprinkling of doubt in Jacquie’s tone matched the worry in her eyes. “So running into Richard threw you for a loop. It was just bad timing. Besides, this is only a follow-up meeting.”
“A follow-up for a meeting I wasn’t here for last week, Jacquie. Even though Mr. Hutchinson called me personally and asked me to come back for it.”
“So? What does Hutchinson have to gripe about? You’re in town now. You have things with Becky under control, and now you’re focused on work. Richard’s just a blip on the radar.”
But was Amy really back to focusing exclusively on her job? Was Richard’s power over her really a part of her past?
She studied her now makeup-free face in the mirror, trying to recapture a piece of the bravely independent woman she needed everyone around her to believe she’d become.
“Ready to get back to it?” Jacquie held the restroom door open.
Her forced smile of encouragement reminded Amy of how parents looked when they led children into the doctor’s office and told them it wasn’t going hurt.
Kids always knew better, and so did she.
* * *
“YOU FEEL LIKE SOMETHING to eat?” Josh asked as he braked the Range Rover in front of the house that afternoon and turned to Daniel.
Gone was the sullen, angry look the kid had worn for so long. In its place was the type of resignation that tempted Josh to hunt down Curtis Jenkins and exact retribution for every single thing the man had done to Daniel and Melanie.
“You know, I’m not going to let him take you away from me,” Josh said when his nephew still didn’t respond. “I don’t care what I have to do, he’ll never lay his hands on you again.”
Dr. Rhodes had asked Josh to sit in on this afternoon’s session. They’d talked over the phone ahead of time about Daniel’s panicked reaction to the revelation that his father was back. Dr. Rhodes had suggested this meeting be with the two of them together, that it might help Josh find some way to bond with his nephew. If they were going to have any chance of getting Daniel to share his painful memories, Josh had to stop being the enemy.
But Daniel had spent the entire session slouched in the chair beside him, still as stone. Which left them no closer than before to having the information they needed.
“What makes you think you can stop my dad from taking me back?” the ten-year-old finally inquired.
It was a fair question, one Josh had been asking himself for days.
“Legally, I’ve done about all I can do for now,” he admitted, clenching the steering wheel. “I’ve filed some legal papers and asked for a test to prove the man really is your father. And in her will, your mother chose me to be your guardian. That gives us some time. But m
y temporary guardianship isn’t going to hold up for very long. Not unless the judge has a reason to think I’d be a better parent for you than your father.”
Daniel was at least looking at him now.
“That’s where you come in,” Josh continued. “Mrs. Thomas says the only way we can stop your dad for sure is if you can tell a judge what you remember about living with your father. You’ve got to try to talk about what happened, Daniel.”
The boy’s reaction was immediate. His complexion completely drained of color. His eyes darted away, but not before Josh saw the fight-or-flight terror that filled them.
“You haven’t known me for very long. And I know I hurt your mother, when she came back home and your grandma and I didn’t listen to what she was saying about your dad.” Josh shook his head in shame and regret. “I wasn’t there for your mom when she needed me. But I’m here for you now. I…I’m here with you all the way. You’re my family. Part of my sister, and that makes you part of me. You can trust me with your memories, Daniel. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and living with me here in Sweetbrook.”
The silence that followed seemed to last forever, but Josh was learning to let those kind of lapses work themselves out.
Finally, Daniel looked back at him.
“Are you and Becky’s mom really friends?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Josh replied carefully, rather than redirecting the conversation back to Curtis Jenkins, where he wanted it. Lately, he’d started to wonder if a man could literally go out of his mind with frustration. “We’ve been friends for a long time.”
“Just like you and my mom used to be friends?”
“Yeah,” Josh hedged, remembering the missing photo albums from the sitting room he suspected Daniel had been looking through. “Something like that.”
“And she and Becky… Her mom said Becky knew what it was like…you know. What it was like to feel the way I do.”
Daniel’s circular logic slapped Josh upside the head so hard his ears rang.
“Are you asking me if Becky’s father was like your old man?” he asked.
Daniel shrugged.
“I don’t know for sure,” Josh said. “But I think she and her mom have had it pretty rough. Maybe that’s why it’s been a little easier to talk with Ms. Loar than it has been with me or Dr. Steve?”
“Yeah,” Daniel said with another shrug. “I guess Becky’s mom wasn’t so bad. But she’s gone now, right?”
“Yes, she’s back in Atlanta.”
They were talking, Josh realized. About what, he wasn’t exactly sure. But he and his nephew were actually carrying on a seemingly normal conversation.
Daniel’s words replayed in his mind as Josh drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
I guess Becky’s mom wasn’t so bad.
Actually, Amy was the one person who’d been able to get through to Daniel. And she was the one person Josh had no right to ask for help again. But his other choices were quickly becoming nonexistent.
Which meant when Amy called for an update on Becky’s progress, he was going to do the unthinkable.
* * *
AT A QUARTER PAST ELEVEN that night, Amy slid into the enormous upholstered chair that took up half her apartment’s tiny living room. Unopened packing boxes that held the sum total of her and Becky’s belongings sprawled around her. Her feet hurt, her backed ached and her eyes were begging for one of the ice packs she kept handy in the freezer for late nights just like this.
She’d managed to finesse her way through the end of the meeting with Jed Westing, but she’d left with a new list of to-dos, many of which had to be addressed immediately. Hence her extended night at the office, when she’d planned to head out on time for a change so she could call Josh for an update on Becky’s day. But with Thomas Fuller at her side all evening, under the guise of learning as much as he could about the Kramer project and making himself useful, she hadn’t had a private moment since returning to the office. And now it was entirely too late for her to be calling anyone.
The phone jingled on the table at her elbow, the sound deafeningly shrill in the late-night quiet. Amy reached for the receiver and froze, adrenaline pumping at the unwelcomed thought that it might be Richard calling to harass her some more about that morning. But Richard wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t his style. It would be so much more satisfying for him to sit back and wait for her to call instead. For her to beg him for another chance.
Almost hoping it was him, so she could rip into him as she should have at the Georgia-Pacific Tower, she jerked the unit off its receiver.
“Hello.”
“Amy?” Josh White replied in that calm, soothing voice she’d longed to hear all day. “I hope it’s not too late, but I’ve been trying to call for hours.”
She checked her answering machine and slapped her forehead at the sight of the blinking message-waiting light.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t get a chance to call from work, and I just got home.”
“It’s okay, I know you’re trying to catch up,” he assured her. “I’d have called on your cell, but I didn’t want to interrupt anything important.”
“No, you should have….” She sat back, mortified by how she’d behaved when he’d last reached her at work. “I mean, thank you for being so considerate, but I’d have paid money for the interruption tonight.”
Just talking with him gave her a sense of peace she hadn’t felt since…well, since they’d been together on the weekend.
How, in just a few short days, had he become her safe place again?
“Tough day?” he asked, his genuine concern wrapping around her heart.
“Nothing new,” she hedged, banishing the memory of her run-in with Richard. “How about you? Any progress with Daniel?”
“No.” Josh cleared his throat, paused, then cleared it again. “That’s part of the reason I called. I mean…”
Something was wrong. She could hear it in the way he couldn’t bring himself to talk about whatever was going on. Her heart sank.
“What is it, Josh? Tell me Daniel’s father wasn’t able to get custody already.”
“No,” he said. “It’s just that— Amy, I’m supposed to be helping you here, not the other way around. Things went really well with Becky today.”
“Good.” She breathed a sigh of relief, almost feeling guilty because her problems seemed to be solving themselves, just as his were clearly getting worse. “You’ve made this so easy for us.”
“Please don’t thank me.” He sounded annoyed for some reason. “You’re just making this harder.”
“Making what harder?” It was about half-past too late for her to be talking in circles. “What’s going on, Josh?”
“I need your help,” he blurted out. “You’re the only one who’s come close to getting through to Daniel so far, and it makes me sick to think about asking you for one more thing, with all the crap you’re already dealing with. But I’m out of alternatives.”
Instead of sympathizing, Amy’s temper flared. “You mean to tell me, Joshua White, that after everything you’ve done for Becky, you don’t want to ask me for help because you feel sorry for me?”
“Amy—”
“You always were a butthead, you know that? It may not seem like it right now, but I can be a pretty self-sufficient person.”
Except of course when her ex glared in her direction, or for that matter when he was simply in the same building as her.
“There may be nothing I can do to help you right now,” she said, “because I’m stuck in Atlanta, and you’re there. But you could at least ask me like you would any other friend. Stop handling me as if I’m going to break, Josh. I’m not a charity case.”
No, but you’re bordering on sounding like a shrieking maniac.
“Amy, I’m not trying to handle you. But we’re not talking about a simple favor.” He sighed, and in her mind she could see him raking his hand through all that gorgeous blond hair. “Daniel’s still not opening up about his father. Not with me and not with his therapist. Things were a little better at his session today. I think he finally realizes how important remembering is, but…I’m not sure he can. No one’s come close to getting him to talk…no one but you. He even asked about you today.”
Amy shook her head, then realized Josh was waiting for a verbal response.
“Are you saying you want me to try and get him to talk about his dad? He doesn’t even know me.”
“He knows enough. You’ve opened your heart to him, Amy, both times the two of you were alone.” There was awe in Josh’s voice, along with something that sounded very much like envy.
“He knows you love him, Josh.”
“Yeah, maybe, but he doesn’t trust me. And I’m not sure I blame him.”
Amy found herself at a complete loss over what to say next.
Petty as it sounded, she didn’t want to be the one Daniel trusted. How could she help the little boy explore his own fears, when hers had all but eaten her alive just that morning?
“I want to help you and Daniel any way I can,” she said, though misgivings were shredding her voice. “I really do, but—”
“You don’t have to do this, Amy,” Josh rushed to say. “Really, I can’t even believe I’m asking. It’s just that of all the people in the world for Daniel to bond with, it was such a relief he chose you. I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more….”
A Sweetbrook Family (You, Me & the Kids) Page 15
