Jet Set Confessions (HQR Desire)

by Maureen Child

  “You’re welcome.” He looked down at her and felt his body stir again. Hell, since the moment he’d met this woman, his body had been like stone. “Not hard to sway back and forth and move in a circle.”

  She grinned at him. “It meant a lot to Kenny.”

  “Uh-huh.” He couldn’t have cared less about Kenny and his plans for a night of dancing and who the hell knew what else. What he’d done, he’d done for Fiona. To see that smile he was currently basking in.

  He didn’t like knowing that she was becoming more important to him than he cared to acknowledge. But even if his mind shied away from that thought, his body had no trouble admitting it.

  “So?” she asked, and Luke was ready for any suggestion that would get them alone and naked. “Dinner. How about a burger?”

  Her eyes sparkled and her lips were curved in that smile that drove him crazy. Not the idea he’d had in mind, but it’d do. For now.

  * * *

  The next morning, Fiona called Jamison Barrett on the direct number he’d given her. She had to report in on her weekend with Luke. Of course, she has no intention of telling the older man about what had happened on the plane. Or last night in her apartment, for that matter. She shivered a little at the images flooding her mind and knew she’d never be able to sleep in that bed again without Luke’s memory joining her.

  Jamison answered and Fiona jumped.

  “Yes?” He sounded distracted. Maybe that was a good thing.

  “Mr. Barrett,” Fiona said, rising to walk across her living room. “This is Fiona Jordan.”

  “Hmm? Oh. Yes. Yes. Fiona. Hello.”

  Frowning, she stared out at the sun-washed street. “I just wanted you to know that the weekend with Luke went very well, and I think I’m making headway.”

  “That’s good.”

  His voice sounded odd to her. Less confident. The last time she spoke to him, Jamison had been brisk, impatient. Now it seemed as if he wasn’t even interested in what was happening with Luke. Was he having second thoughts? Was he sorry he’d hired her in the first place?

  Because Fiona could completely understand regrets. She regretted ever lying to Luke. But she couldn’t be sorry she’d taken this job, because if she hadn’t, she never would have met him, and she couldn’t even imagine not knowing him.

  How did this whole situation get so confused and tangled up? Luke loved his grandfather but couldn’t work with him. Jamison loved his grandson but couldn’t compromise. And Fiona? Fiona was in the middle, unsure which way to turn.

  Still, she tried. “I’m seeing him again today and—”

  “Right. You just get it done and we’ll talk then. All right? Thank you.”

  He hung up and Fiona took the phone from her ear to stare at it. For a man who was so determined to win his grandson back, he seemed decidedly uninterested in hearing the report he had asked for. What was going on?

  * * *

  When Jamison hung up, Fiona went straight out of his mind. He had bigger problems at the moment. He stared at the contract in front of him and felt panic clawing at the edges of his soul.

  His signature was on the bottom line, but damned if he remembered signing it. “Why the hell would I order skateboards from a new company when I’ve already got Salem’s boards?”

  Didn’t make sense. But then, lately nothing was making sense, and Jamison felt a fresh stir of fear. And he didn’t like that, either. He’d faced a lot in his lifetime. He lost his father in a world war, the loss of his sons. He’d fought his way through bad times before and he would this time, too.

  He knew Cole was worried about him. And it wouldn’t be long before he saw the same look of concern on Loretta’s face, too. Jamison didn’t think he could stand that. Maybe it was time to talk to his doctor. Get to the bottom of this. Bill Tucker was a no-nonsense kind of man. He’d be straight with Jamison. And maybe, he admitted silently, that was why he hadn’t gone to see him yet. He was afraid of what Bill might have to say.

  Loretta claimed it was nothing, but he couldn’t help worrying. He’d seen friends diagnosed with dementia. He’d watched them slowly fade away until there was nothing of them left, and it terrified him to believe that might be happening to him.

  “Pop?” Cole poked his head in the door.

  “Yes.” He looked up. “What is it?”

  “I wanted to ask you about the order for basketballs you canceled.”

  “What? I didn’t cancel an order.” Did he?

  Cole stepped into the room and his features were twisted into a mask of worry that ate at Jamison’s insides. “I just got a call from Adam Carey, and he says he got the cancellation late last night.”

  “Last night?” Shaking his head, Jamison jumped to his feet. That should be proof that he wasn’t doing this. That he hadn’t lost his mind. “I was out with your grandmother last night. We went to the club for dinner...”

  Cole winced and handed out the email he’d printed out. “Adam forwarded the email to me, Pop. It’s definitely from you. Went out about ten last night.”

  Jamison studied it and an icy ball dropped into the pit of his stomach. It was from his email address. Canceling an order. But he didn’t do it. Crumpling the paper in his fist, he looked at Cole. “I didn’t send this.”

  “Pop...” Cole scrubbed one hand across his neck and looked as if he wished he were anywhere else.

  Jamison knew the feeling.

  “Damn it, boy, stop looking at me like I’m dying.”

  “I don’t like this, Pop.”

  “Well, neither do I. Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I didn’t send this.” He tossed the offensive wad of paper into the trash, then sat down behind his desk again. “I’ll call Adam. Set things straight.”

  “Good luck. He’s pretty pissed.”

  “I said I’ll take care of it.” He looked back at the file on his desk, silently dismissing Cole. But his grandson didn’t leave.

  “Pop, do you think maybe we should talk to a doctor?”

  “We?” Jamison speared his grandson with a steely look. Damned if he’d be treated like a slobbering old fool. “You having a problem you didn’t tell me about?”

  Cole took a breath. “Fine. You, then. Pop, you seem to be having some trouble lately, and I want you to know that I’m here.” The younger man moved closer, leaned both hands on the edge of the desk and said, “I can take over for you. Handle things while you take a break. Maybe you just need a long rest.”

  If what he was hearing was simple familial concern, then Jamison should have been touched. But he knew that there was nothing Cole would like better than stepping into the CEO job. He’d been angling for it for years.

  “How long a break, Cole? Forever?” Jamison loved his grandson, but he knew Cole’s ambitions far exceeded his talents.

  “You know, I’m not saying that.” He pushed up from the desk. “But with Luke gone, I’m the one you can trust to take over. Pop, I’m here. Use me.”

  Irritation rushed in and was swamped by regret for thinking badly of Cole. Sure, he had a lot of ambition, but so had Jamison at his age. It wasn’t Cole’s fault now that his grandfather’s brain was taking a vacation. “I know that. And I appreciate it. But I’m not ready to quit. And we don’t know that Luke’s gone for good, either.”

  Cole pushed one hand through his hair in frustration. “Luke isn’t your only grandson, Pop. He isn’t the only Barrett who’s worked at the company since he was a kid. He’s not the only man who could run this company.”

  There was a lot of bitterness there. More than he’d suspected.

  “You’re getting worked up for nothing, Cole.” Jamison shook his head and tried to understand that Cole’s jealousy of his cousin was probably Jamison’s fault. He’d always favored Luke because he’d seen himself in the boy. He knew that Luke was the one to run this company in
to the next generation. Cole was good at what he did, but he wasn’t qualified to be the CEO.

  It was never easy to admit unpleasant truths, but Jamison had faced it years ago. Cole, though, would never accept his own limits. Then again, maybe he shouldn’t. If a person started putting limitations on what he thought he could do, then he’d never do anything.

  “Am I?” Cole threw both hands up in complete exasperation. “I’m tired of being overlooked in favor of the man who left the company. Luke left. He walked out on you, Pop, and you still prefer him? I’m here. I stayed. I’m the one who gives a damn about the company. And you.”

  “I know.” Jamison forced a smile. Truth be told, he wasn’t up for a conflict right now. There were too many worries riding his possibly failing brain. Plus, he was already at war with one grandson. Did he really want another one?

  “You’re a good man, Cole,” he said, hoping to placate him. “And I know you’ll be there for me if I need you to step in. I just don’t need it yet.”

  Clearly still irritated, Cole said, “You sure about that? You’re losing it, Pop, and we both know it.”

  “No,” he said flatly. He wasn’t about to share his worries with Cole and get the man even more worked up than he already was. “We don’t. Now I’ve got work to do and I’m sure you do, too.”

  “Fine.” Cole shook his head and blew out a breath. “Call Adam. Straighten it out. I’m meeting Susan and Oliver at the yacht club for lunch. I’ll probably just go home from there.”

  Jamison nodded, unsurprised. But he couldn’t help thinking, there, Cole. That’s why you’re not the one. You leave in the middle of the day. Nearly every damn day. Jamison was all for spending time with your family, but there were responsibilities to be taken care of as well. Cole ran himself ragged trying to make Susan happy and paid little if any attention to the business that’s keeping them both living in their mansion in Dana Point.

  Cole stormed out, and Jamison rubbed his aching temples. If Luke didn’t come back, he didn’t think the company would survive. Hell, at this point, he wasn’t sure he would survive.

  And on that happy thought, he picked up the phone, dialed a number and said, “Adam? Jamison Barrett here. What’s all this nonsense about a canceled order?”

  * * *

  Fiona loved the beach in winter. The sand was empty but for a few die-hard souls and the waves only called to the most dedicated surfers. In February, the sea looked slate gray and the wind that blew past them was sharp and icy. The waves crashed on the shore, then slid back where they’d come from in lacy patterns they left behind on the wet sand.

  She tipped her face into the wind and smiled. The only thing better than taking a winter walk on the beach was having Luke with her.

  “I can’t believe this is your view. Every day.” She took a deep breath, drawing the damp sea air deep inside her. Holding her hair down, she looked up at him. “If I lived here, I’d be down on the beach every chance I got.”

  “Don’t have many chances.” He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and trailed his fingers down her cheek. Fiona shivered at his touch and wondered if she always would.

  “Work keeps me busy,” he added with a shrug.

  “And your phone...” Her tone was teasing, but her words weren’t.

  He scowled at her. “I left it back at the house, didn’t I?”

  “And is not having it driving you crazy?”

  “No. You are.”

  She smiled. “There you go, saying nice things again.”

  “I don’t know what it is about you, Fiona.” His gaze moved over her features before settling on her eyes. “When I’m with you I have to touch you. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you.”

  “I feel the same way,” she said softly.

  He pulled her into his arms and Fiona went willingly. Being with him now was worth the price she would eventually have to pay. Reaching up, she cupped his cheeks in her palms and told herself that later on, she wouldn’t regret this time with him. If memories were all she was going to have, then she wanted a lot of them burned into her mind so that she’d never forget a moment of the time spent with Luke. She’d never taken something for herself. Not like this. And when this time with Luke was over, she might never feel like this again.

  He turned his face into her palm and kissed it, sending pearls of heat tumbling through her. Fiona was in such deep trouble, and she didn’t care. What she felt for Luke was so unexpected, such a gift, she couldn’t turn away from it.

  “How about we go back to my house?”

  They’d stopped at his house for a drink after seeing a movie she couldn’t even remember. And now all she could think was, she wanted to be inside, where people couldn’t see them. Inside, where she could touch him and be touched.

  “That sounds good,” she said, and turned with him to walk back across the sand.

  At night, his home shone like a jewel. It was right on the beach and built as if it belonged in Spain. The arched windows, the red-tiled entrance, and the trailing vines and flowers that swept across the second story all spoke of sun-drenched days and long, warm nights.

  “I love your house.”

  “I did, too.”

  “Did?” She turned her face up to his.

  “Yeah, I’m moving,” he said. “To a cliff view where thousands of beachgoers aren’t in my front yard every summer.”

  He had a point. The beach in winter was secluded, quiet. But the same spot in summer would be noisy and crowded and—still beautiful. “I suppose I can understand that, but I would miss the beach...”

  He pulled her in close, one arm around her shoulders. “At the new house, there’s a path down to the sand. And the house is close to my grandparents. They’re getting older and—”

  She stopped, drawing him to a stop, too. “You won’t work for your grandfather, but you’ll move to live closer to him?”

  He stepped back and shoved both hands into his pockets—he did own a pair of jeans and looked spectacular in them. Squinting into the wind, he said, “Just because I left the company doesn’t mean I left the family.”

  Why couldn’t he see that his grandfather was convinced that that was exactly what it meant? To Jamison Barrett, the toy company was an extension of the family. Having Luke walk away from it made Jamison feel he was leaving them behind as well.

  “So why do you insist on staying away from the company? That is your family, isn’t it? Why not just work through your problems with your grandfather?” Fiona looked at this conversation as an opportunity she had to take advantage of. “Like you said, they’re getting older. Why not compromise?”

  He seemed to think about it for a long moment before answering. The wind ruffled his hair; moonlight glittered in his eyes when he met her gaze. “Because I’ve got to prove this to Pop. And maybe,” he said, “to myself, too. I’m right about the technological future.”

  “But it’s Barrett Toys and Tech. Isn’t he already compromising with you?”

  “No.” His features went hard and closed. “It’s compromise on his terms. He’ll toss me a bone, but we’d still be doing things his way. He wants to dial the tech back while I believe it should be expanded.” He looked at the churning sea and talked almost to himself. “Kids today are hungry for more and more tech. Why wouldn’t we want to get in on giving it to them?”

  “Oh, Luke. Just because a kid wants something doesn’t mean they should have it.”

  He whipped his head back to look into her eyes. Surprise etched on his face, he asked, “You’re on his side in this?”

  “I’m on nobody’s side,” she assured him, holding up both hands in a peace offering.

  “Thanks,” he muttered.

  She wanted to sigh. Any other time, she’d be happy to be on his side. But in this case, Fiona thought his grandfather had a point. “I’m just saying that b
ecause something is new and shiny doesn’t make it better. Like you said yourself, technology isn’t going away. It’s the future. Why do kids have to learn it when they should be out playing baseball or surfing or whatever?”

  “Because tech is part of the society that they’re growing up in. Adapting young means they’ll be more flexible when tech keeps changing,” he argued.

  A couple holding hands walked past them but neither of them noticed. Fiona couldn’t look away from Luke’s eyes. This was her chance to talk to him about the rift between him and his grandfather. Yes, it was her job to convince him, but more than that, she knew what it was like to not have a family. She didn’t want to watch him throw away what she’d never had.

  “Did you know,” she asked quietly, “that doctors are actually seeing cases of severe language delays due to screens?”

  That statement caught him off guard. “What?”

  Fiona had done a lot of reading on this subject, and there were studies that supported both Luke’s and his grandfather’s opinions. But if you were dealing with the chance of doing permanent harm to a child’s mind, wouldn’t you take the more careful route?

  “You said it yourself, there are a lot of studies—good and bad—being done. Well,” she said, “I saw an article about it, and I thought it sounded weird, so I read it. Apparently, small children who spend many hours a day on screens—phones, tablets—don’t develop normal language skills. Their brains are being rewired.”

  Luke frowned and shook his head. Bracing his feet wide apart, he folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “I can point you to studies that say the exact opposite.”

  “I guess,” Fiona said. “But it’s scary to think about, right? This article said some toddlers have had to seek speech therapy to make up their delays. And teenagers are spending eight to twelve hours a day online.”

  His frown deepened and she wouldn’t have thought that possible. “Anything can be bad if overdone.”