by Lea Nolan
“Have the nurses called Claire or your other family members—Cleveland, right? Your great-grandson, who’s working at the Shipwreck?” He was impressed with his memory of Heron Harbor personalities.
“I didn’t ask them to call until the doctors figured out what was wrong with me. They’d worry themselves sick. They’ll be along soon.”
“You can’t stay at your house the way it is.”
Mrs. Hendrix nodded. “I know. I’ll stay with Claire. And her teenagers.” She sighed wearily.
“They can’t be that bad. They’ll keep you young.”
She shot him a glare. “I’m plenty young.”
He laughed. “I really should be going. It’s getting late, and we were supposed to clear one more tree today.” He rose to his feet.
“You going back to your girl, Ms. Raven?”
“Oh, she’s not my girl.” Though he wished she were. He wanted her like no other woman in the world.
“Why not?” Mrs. Hendrix asked.
“It’s a long story.”
“Do you want her to be your girl?”
“More than I can say.”
She arched a snowy white brow. “Then what’s the problem?”
Jack ran his fingers through his hair. This wasn’t any of Mrs. Hendrix’s business, yet he found himself wanting to tell her—tell someone—anyway. “Uh, relationships can be scary.”
“Does she have a reason to be scared of you?”
“No, ma’am. I’d be good to her.”
“Then tell her that. Ask her to trust you.”
“I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”
She waved a liver-spotted hand. “Of course, it will.”
“How well do you know Raven?”
“I knew her father. That man was wound tighter than a spool of thread. Barely cracked a smile or had a warm word for anyone except for his girls, Madeline, or when he was talking about his damn birds.”
Jack laughed. “I’ve heard about him and his birds.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s all the man ever talked about. Then one day, he picked up and left the island and never came back. Madeline was crushed.”
“I’m not sure what this has to do with Raven.”
“She didn’t have a mother, and she was raised by a man who didn’t have much to share in the way of emotion. It makes sense she’s scared. Maybe she just needs to hear from you that she doesn’t need to be.”
After Jack left Mrs. Hendrix, he was so deep in thought that he nearly plowed into Hunter in the hospital lobby.
“Hey man, you still here?” Jack asked.
Hunter rubbed his neck. He looked like he was running on negative sleep. “I’ve left and come back. Had to bring in a broken leg. Idiot kids were jumping off the seawall. Why do people have to do dumb shit during an emergency?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “How’s Mrs. Hendrix?”
“She’s all right. Basically, had a panic attack.”
“Thank God. That woman is a fixture around here. We’re not ready to lose her. Where are you headed now?”
“Back to Mrs. Hendrix’s house to help the guys finish up, then see if there’s time to get started on Raven’s tree.”
Hunter waved him on. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride.”
On the way back, after they’d agreed that eighties hair band music was the best and only music worth listening to on a car radio, Hunter said, “I really appreciate all you’ve done here for us.”
Jack shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
Hunter turned down Terrapin Lane. “Actually, it’s not. You’ve been busting your ass. I want you to know we’ve noticed.”
“We?” Jack asked.
Hunter shrugged. “The community.”
“You speak for the community?”
“Not for everyone, but a lot of it. We’re close-knit.” Hunter smiled.
“You talk like it’s a family,” Jack said.
Hunter laughed. “It’s sort of an extended one. This island basically raised me. It’s why I’ll never leave it.”
“Wow, that’s some commitment. Do you feel indebted?”
Hunter threw him an odd look. “No. I’m giving back.” There was a long moment of silence where Hunter looked like he was debating whether to say something more. Finally, as they approached Mrs. Hendrix’s house, Hunter gripped the steering wheel tight. “Anyway, after all that you’ve done for us this week, we’re rooting for you.”
“For what?” Jack asked.
Hunter pulled the car up to the curb and put the gear in park. “With Raven. You’re the first guy she’s ever brought here, so there’s hope that you two might be serious.”
“Oh, that’s not—”
Hunter put up his palm. “Look, let’s not make this weirder than it already is by talking about feelings and relationships and shit. That last part about rooting for you comes from the Ladies Auxiliary at the hospital. They asked me to tell you that in exchange for Mrs. Baxter’s famous apple caramel pie. The first part—the thanks for breaking your back with the sandbags, at the food kitchen, and clearing trees—that comes directly from me.”
Whew, that was a relief because Hunter did not strike Jack as a touchy-feely guy. “In that case, you’re welcome. And I want a slice of that pie.”
The guys in Garvey’s crew were out on the front lawn, cutting what was left of the fallen tree. The second crew had cleared out as soon as Mrs. Hendrix had been freed from her home. When the guys saw Jack, they waved him over. He scanned the mountain of wood they’d already cut and begun to stack on the side of her yard and thought of the maple he’d helped clear earlier in the morning.
A wave of pride swelled in his chest. At the risk of being immodest, Hunter was right. Jack had kicked ass over the past few days. He’d contributed honest, unselfish work that had helped the people of Heron Harbor. His hands had made a positive, tangible difference for once.
It was the complete opposite of what he did at WFG. There, his worth was measured in the amount of money he generated for the company. If this were an ordinary Tuesday, he’d be presiding over his latest acquisition, Paulson Diagnostics. He’d already earned massive profits for his investors, but his remaining employees likely weren’t thrilled by his tactics. Not that he blamed them. He squeezed them for higher productivity, slashed their benefits, and would be cutting a few more from the payroll.
Sometimes the idea of money itself felt like an abstract concept. Jack was surrounded by it, yet never saw it. Almost no one exchanged cash anymore. Money was just computer code transmitted over the internet that showed up or disappeared from different accounts. All it took was a few scant keystrokes of a computer. A series of faceless, touch-less transactions.
But here, amid the crisp, sea air, he’d ripped a chainsaw cord, swung an ax, sliced through decades-old trees, filled sandbags, and served meals to hundreds of people. He’d seen the appreciative smiles and heard the genuine expressions of thanks.
For once in his life, he’d done something real and of use for someone else without regard for profit.
It felt fucking awesome.
It was the island; he was sure of it. Heron Harbor was unlike any where he’d ever been. People were different from where he’d grown up or lived as an adult. The people on this island cared about each other and reached out to lend a hand. It was a community in the truest sense of the word. A place he’d like to come back to. A place he’d like to spend time in with Raven.
Except she’d made her opposition to relationships clear. Mrs. Hendrix’s words came back to him. She’d made it sound so easy. Simply tell Raven she didn’t need to be scared of dating him, that he’d be good to her, and ask her to trust him.
How could that possibly work, after all her pain and guilt? It seemed an insurmountable obstacle.
But what if he tried? He hadn’t told her how much he already cared for her or how gentle he’d be as she learned to navigate being in a relationship for the first time. If she’d trust him with her hea
rt, he’d treat her like the queen she was.
Jack picked up his chainsaw, resolved. Tonight, after he’d put in another long, good day of work, and Raven was nestled in his arms, he’d tell her everything, and she’d say yes.
With Jack away for the day, Raven got busy. There were shutters to open and secure to the house’s exterior, yard furniture to set right, and at least a truckload of storm debris to clear from the front and back lawns.
She worked in the yard for hours with Brilla at her side. Together they restored the house and yard to its pre-storm condition and amassed a giant pile of branches perfect for kindling. It felt good to use her body this way, caring for her family’s home, the place that had been her refuge then and now.
If she hadn’t been fired, she’d be directing a staff meeting at this exact moment, shoved into a tight, restrictive power suit that emphasized her authority, but hinted at enough femininity to make her approachable. She’d be on her third iced green tea, running on maybe five hours of sleep, looking at another eight hours in the office before catching a networking happy hour with other young executives. She’d grab a late-night run at the gym in her apartment building, then crash into bed, exhausted. The next day, she’d do it all over again.
But on Heron Harbor, the rhythm of life was different. Slower. More peaceful. Sane. Instead of double-crossing their relatives and stealing their company out from under them, the people on this island reached out to help others in need. They stuffed sandbags, staffed food kitchens, and cleared fallen trees because it needed getting done. They fixed things if they were broken, like little girls who’d lost their mother.
Raven gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth. Until now, she’d never put it together.
The island was why she became a fixer.
Heron Harbor’s ethos had sculpted her values and taught her that fixing something was more valuable than scrapping it, selling off its usable parts, and dumping the rest for garbage. She could’ve done anything with her talent, skills, and formidable education; risen to the top of the most prestigious and lucrative private equity firms, but the prospect of making money for money’s sake had never interested her. She wanted to help people. Saving a company, securing the jobs of its employees, and by extension, the jobs of its suppliers, was more satisfying than any other career Raven could imagine.
She bent to pick up the last broken pine limb that had blown across the back yard. Standing up, she looked back at the house. The big, blue structure was stately yet welcoming. A true shelter in a storm. Her heart swelled with gratitude that it was here, once again, when she’d needed it.
Back in the kitchen, her phone rang while she was washing her hands. She patted her jacket pockets with wet hands but found them empty. Spinning to locate the sound, she found the phone on the far counter near the mudroom.
There were eight missed calls, all from Mari. Her gut tightened. Something was terribly wrong. She hoped it wasn’t about Mari’s diabetic mother. Raven called back and hit the speaker, so her hands were free to finish cleaning up.
“Where have you been? I’ve been calling for hours.” Mari’s voice was thick and scratchy.
“I’m sorry, I was outside working in the yard. I didn’t realize I’d left my cell in the house. What happened?” Though she probably shouldn’t ask, given Mari’s NDA.
Mari burst into tears. Messy sobs tumbled through the phone, followed by a string of incomprehensible words.
Raven’s pulse thrummed. What the hell was going on? She raised her voice. “Mari, I didn’t understand a thing you just said. Take a breath. Start again.”
There were a few deep, quivering breaths. “I got caught.”
“Doing what?”
“Being a corporate spy.” Mari broke into tears.
Raven’s hand flew to her chest. “Whoa, back up and explain.”
“I messed up. Things have been so terrible here, and so many people got fired, a bunch of my friends decided to mount an anonymous resistance campaign on social media. They convinced me to find out more about Son Co. Kiara was supposed to be out for the day, so I took the master key from Tiffany’s desk and used it to get into Kiara’s office and look in her files.”
Raven’s stomach tightened as she anticipated what happened. “And she showed up.”
“She caught me with my hands in the files. There was no way I could deny it.” Mari sobbed again.
Raven thunked her head against an overhead cabinet. She appreciated Mari and her friends’ rebellious spirit, but this was the ultimate in stupid criminal capers. “Oh, Mari. What did she do?”
“First, she yelled at me and wanted to know who I was working for.”
“Did you say?” It was hard to imagine Mari narc-ing out her friends.
“I told her the truth. I don’t work for anyone besides Paulson Diagnostics. But I’d already pulled out the files for the Articles of Incorporation and the representative agent form, so she didn’t buy it.”
“And then what happened?”
“She fired me. I won’t get any severance or reference, and she said I’d never work in the industry again.” Mari wept.
If Raven had been in Kiara’s position, she’d have done the exact same thing. Probably more. Mari had violated her NDA. But this was Mari, Raven’s surrogate little sister, and she and her merry band of resistors were rebelling against an evil overlord. From Raven’s position, it was hard not to sympathize. So, in this case—and only this case—Raven was willing to stretch her moral boundaries.
“I’ll give you a reference and send your resume to a few companies, but you have to swear on your mother’s life that you won’t ever pull something this stupid again.”
“I promise. Never, ever. I only did it for all the others who lost their jobs, and for the rest of us who are getting screwed.”
Raven thought of her former employees, good, hard-working people, some of whom had devoted their entire working lives to Paulson, simply let go to bolster the bottom line. A full quarter of her former workforce cut loose. What were some of these people supposed to do now, especially the older ones who’d never worked for another company? It made her stomach churn.
“What’s happening there makes me sick. I don’t know what the new owner’s plans are for Paulson Diagnostics, but from what I’ve seen so far, it isn’t good,” Raven said.
“I got some information on them before Kiara caught me. Son Co, LLC is located in Somerset, Connecticut, and their representative agent’s name is Alexander Fleming.” Mari said.
It was tantalizing information but ultimately useless. The deal was done, and the new owners were fully in control. Raven had moved on; Mari should too. Raven was about to suggest just that to her former assistant when Jack’s voice bounced off the kitchen walls.
“You’re the fucking corporate spy?”
Chapter 19
Jack’s world had tilted on its axis, and he was trying to stay upright. Had Raven been spying on his company? What the hell was going on?
Raven spun around, her eyes rounded. “You bought Paulson Diagnostics?”
Brilla whined and ricocheted out of the room. Great, now even his own dog had turned tail against him.
Jack had headed to Raven’s house ahead of Garvey and the guys, and straight into the Twilight Zone. Who was the chick spy on speaker spewing the name of his shell company, its address, and the name of his attorney?
“Raven, what’s happening?” The voice came through the speaker.
Jack’s eyes locked onto the phone. “Is that your partner, Mariana Hernandez?”
The woman on the phone gasped. “Oh, my God.”
“I have to go. I’ll call you later.” Raven’s voice quaked as she cut off the call.
She backed away from him, positioning herself behind the kitchen table, then lifted a shaky hand to her forehead. “This can’t be happening. How is this possible?”
He was wondering the same damned thing.
“Who the fuck are you working for?” Jack
demanded.
Her eyes flicked to him, blazing like lasers. “No one. Not since you fired me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Up until Friday, I was the Executive Vice President of Paulson Diagnostics.”
The floor shifted beneath him as if it were made of quicksand. He grabbed the edge of the counter to keep from being pulled in.
That was impossible. How could she have worked for Paulson? The coincidence was too bizarre. Then the links clicked together. Holy shit. It wasn’t just possible—it was true. But fuck if he wanted to be the one to explain how it all went down.
“How did you, of all people, buy Paulson Diagnostics?” she asked.
“I told you I evaluate companies and make decisions about their value. It’s because I acquire them. I’ve had my eye on Paulson for a while. The new device and gamification software could be worth billions.”
“Now who’s the corporate spy?” she hissed.
“It’s my job,” he shot back.
She let out an incredulous laugh. “To swoop in and steal a company out from under its owner?”
He chuffed out a laugh. “The majority of stakeholders agreed to sell. I didn’t steal anything from anyone.”
“But you underpaid what it’s worth.”
Jack shrugged. “I’m a good businessman.” He’d never been less proud of that fact than this moment.
“You’re a vampire. You think you can lay claim to whatever you want. You’ll destroy everything I’ve built over the last two years.”
He felt like he’d been slugged. She saw him for the monster he was.
But that wasn’t all of him.
Maybe he could make her see the good things he had planned for the company. He hadn’t bought it to see it fail. Everybody won if it prospered.
He shook his head. “No, I want to build on it. Your gamification plan is great, but you were thinking too small by marketing it only to Type I diabetics. It needs to go wide and cover Type IIs.”
This was good. The more he distracted her with details, the less likely she’d ask how he’d discovered Paulson Diagnostics in the first place.
