by Ali Parker
She gave me a warm, loving smile, one that I hadn’t earned from her in what felt like ages.
“It’ll be okay,” she said. “It has to be. Your father won’t give up on us. There is too much life yet to live. Too many things he needs to be there for. Weddings. Grandchildren. All of it.”
My bottom lip trembled. Don’t break down now. You’ll never put yourself back together if you come apart now.
As I struggled to keep my composure, something happened. My father’s hand moved beneath mine. I looked up at him, all grief and pain suddenly evaporating and giving way to hope as his brow furrowed and his eyes fluttered open.
“Daddy?”
My father’s dark brown eyes searched the room for a moment before landing on me.
“It’s me. It’s Piper. I’m here. Phillip and Mom are here, too. How do you feel? Can you talk?”
Phillip had woken. He was right by my side with a warm hand on my shoulder. “Take it easy there, Pipes. Let him get his bearings.”
I swallowed the desire to apologize for everything a thousand times over. For his heart. For my dishonesty. For the Casanova Club and everything I’d ever said about Piper’s Paradise—especially the part where I told him I didn’t want it.
My mother joined us beside the bed. She lowered herself into the vacant seat on the other side, where Phillip had been sleeping moments before, and drew it up close enough so she could reach out and stroke his hair. “You scared us.”
My father blinked slowly and smiled. “It’s good to see you all.”
Relief washed over all of us like a wave as soon as the words left his mouth. I deeply resented the sob that escaped my lips and wished I could have stifled it as my father looked sadly at me.
“Don’t cry, Piper.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whispered. “I’m sorry for everything. I never should have lied about where I was. I should have told you what I wanted to do from the very start. We could have all gone in on this together. We could have talked about the money. And if you said no, I wouldn’t have joined, and everything would be as it’s supposed to be, and I never would have left and—”
“Slow down,” my father said, patting my hand. “Slow down. It’s all right. Everything is just fine.”
Just fine? Just fine?
Was he not aware of the fact that he’d just suffered a heart attack? Did he have no sense of the long-term consequences that followed a thing like this?
If he was annoyed by the persistent hovering of my mother and brother over his heart before, he had no idea what lay ahead of him now. His heart was damaged. There was no surgery that could fix that. And what was more, he was at risk for another heart attack.
And they were still drowning in debt.
He was anything but fine. But now was not the time to tell him that.
We were interrupted by someone pulling back the curtain. I expected Christian, but when I looked up at the middle-aged man in a white smock, my nerves came rushing back to the foreground.
His name was Doctor Pratt. He was friendly, with a good bedside manner. He studied a clipboard in his hands and rattled off a series of questions to my father.
He asked him about chest pains. Muscle aches. Fatigue. Headaches. Nausea. And then he went over the details of the heart attack itself.
“So there were no signs that this was coming on?” Doctor Pratt asked. “No symptoms leading up to the attack?”
My mother cocked her head to the side. “What kind of symptoms might there have been? Were we supposed to catch this before it happened?”
“That’s not at all what I’m saying, Mrs. James. But if we were lucky enough to be able to identify some symptoms, we might be able to stop a second one before it hits. The key to a situation like this is prevention. The plan now will be to recover, and we’ll apply a strong focus to preventing future attacks. This kind of strain and stress is very bad on the heart. The less work it has to do, the better.”
That all made sense to me. I stood up and ran my sweaty palms down my thighs. “So he can’t go back to work?”
Doctor Pratt offered me a well-rehearsed smile that I was sure he shared with all concerned family members of his patients. “Not right away. A couple of weeks at home should do the trick. Then you can return to work, Mr. James. But physical activity or prolonged time on your feet moving around isn’t advised. Recovery takes longer than you would expect, and we don’t want to trigger another episode while your heart is still fragile.”
Phillip and I shared a look.
My brother stared pointedly down at my father. “You hear that, Dad? Fragile. No fourteen-hour shifts at the restaurant in the kitchen.”
My father waved Phillip off.
Doctor Pratt’s eyes flicked from my brother to my father. “Is this normal? Fourteen-hour days in a hot kitchen?”
“Only when it’s busy,” my father said.
“Bullshit,” Phillip growled. “He’s in there from open to close, and he works like a dog. We’ve been trying to get him to slow down, but he won’t listen to us.”
Doctor Pratt frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t force you to take it easy, Mr. James, but I can stress how important rest is right now. Even though your heart attack was mild, you’ll feel the effects for a while. And the first little while is a huge window of opportunity for another attack. We must avoid that at all costs. A second episode will undoubtedly be worse than the first. I hate to say it, but it’s not something a lot of men can walk away from if it happens. You should listen to your son. He has your best interest at heart.”
“Thanks, doctor,” my father said. He was clearly done with being reprimanded. He wanted Doctor Pratt out of there.
I, however, found his presence and no-nonsense delivery refreshing.
This was exactly what my family need. A wake-up call. I hated that it came with such a cost, but maybe this was what it would take for my father to finally see the truth, that he wasn’t the young man he used to be and he couldn’t keep pushing ahead like he was. It was time to slow down. To heal. To take a step back from the restaurant that was sinking them.
I wished I could say all those things, but I knew it was useless. He’d react just as he had the last time I tried to discuss such matters. With anger. And even though I didn’t know much about health and hearts, I knew anger wasn’t good for someone who’d just had a heart attack.
So for now, I had to let it lie.
Doctor Pratt tucked his clipboard under his arm and smiled pleasantly around at all of us. “We’re going to keep you under observation for the next thirty-six hours or so, Mr. James. Then, if all tests come back clean, we’ll release you.”
“Isn’t that risky?” I blurted out. Everyone stared at me. “Isn’t there something else we can do? How do we stop this from happening again?”
“Other than relaxing and keeping stress levels down, not much. A healthy diet will go a long way. And light exercise once recovery is done will help, too. I’ll be able to discuss everything in more detail once we have all the test results back. Rest assured, your father is in good hands. We don’t cut corners here.”
I licked my lips and nodded. “Thank you.”
The doctor left, and our little section behind the curtain became tense with silence. I became suddenly very aware that despite my apology when my dad woke up, he hadn’t told me he forgave me. He merely told me it would all be okay.
What did that mean? Did it mean he’d forgive me eventually? Or did it mean we would be okay, despite him not being able to?
Just then, Christian appeared with two brown paper bags in his hands. He smiled and held them up. “Burgers, anyone?”
Phillip was the first to go for it, and while Christian handed out food and made jokes to diffuse the tension, I spared a glance at my father. He was watching Christian closely, almost like he didn’t trust him.
I almost sputtered out how Christian was the one who’d gotten me here. How he was the one who’d held me together when I thought my wo
rld was falling apart. How, even now, he was the only person in this room whose shoulder I knew I could cry freely on.
And as soon as I was clear of this place, I knew that was exactly what I was going to do.
And I knew he’d hold me all the way through it.
Somehow, I was going to have to find a way to thank him for being there for me. He didn’t need to do any of this. But here he was, handing out food and sharing smiles and trying to make my mother laugh.
My insides squirmed.
He deserved better than the likes of me.
Chapter 12
Christian
The wind whipped at our coats and legs as we crossed the tarmac from our limo to Jackson Lee’s private jet. Piper walked ahead of me, the collar of her jacket pulled up against her throat to ward off the chill, her dark hair whipping around her in wild tendrils. Her shoulders were hunched and drawn inward, and I knew it wasn’t only because of the cold.
I took a few long strides to catch up with her. She glanced over at me when I fell into step with her. I nodded at the plane. “We don’t have to leave yet, you know? We can hang around a bit longer.”
Piper’s cheeks puckered as she gnawed on her bottom lip. Her hair hid her face from me as she shook her head.
Frowning, I held my tongue.
Things hadn’t been right since we landed in New York City.
Not that I had expected them to be. Her father had had a heart attack, after all. And we hadn’t even been here for twenty-four hours, and we were already making our way back to our plane. It didn’t sit right. Everything I knew about Piper thus far suggested this was out of character for her. I knew things between her and her parents were strained right now, but I also knew there was nothing more important to her in this world than her family.
So this didn’t sit well with me. We shouldn’t have been leaving.
The pilot of the small private jet waited for us at the top of the stairs. Piper gripped the railing and climbed, and I followed, watching her hips sway with each step she took.
After our time in the hospital, we’d crashed for the day in a hotel room not far from the airport. Jackson Lee’s plane was tied up with other customers, much to my irritation, and we were forced to wait. During that time, I’d tried to get her to talk to me. But she was wound up too tightly. Her emotions were wreaking havoc on her mind. She was still in shock.
So I’d run her a bath, practically dragged her to it, and told her to breathe. To relax.
Much to my surprise, she’d agreed, and I left her in peace to enjoy her soak. When she emerged thirty minutes later in the hotel robe, I could tell immediately that she’d been crying. My heart ached for her. I wished I could take away all her sorrow and pain. But crying was better than bottling it all up. I’d believed that for as long as I could remember.
I’d extended my arms to her, and she’d walked into them like she was coming home. I wrapped her up, drew her into my lap, and held her as she cried herself to sleep.
I hadn’t slept a wink. I stayed there in the rigid, uncomfortable hotel chair with my girl in my arms, her tears drying on my shirt, and waited for her to wake. Whatever she needed, I’d be there.
She slept for hours. Upon waking, she apologized for being such a mess while she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Then she got changed and told me she was ready to go back to my house.
My mind had been reeling since.
The pilot directed us to the right, where we followed the illuminated path to the plush leather seats of the jet. Piper let her bag fall from her shoulder as she swung into her seat. She crossed one leg over the other and draped herself over the seat like a goddess.
She had no idea how beautiful she was. Even now, when she was heavy with sadness, she was lovely.
I sat down across from her, and we both listened to the hum of the engines outside.
When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I leaned forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “We can stay a little longer, Piper. As long as you like. Hell, we can stay all month if you want to. I understand.”
Piper’s dark eyes slid to me. Loose strands of hair dangled over her lashes and twitched when she blinked, but she didn’t bother to brush them away. “I think it’s best right now if I give him some space.”
“Space?”
She picked absently at the hem of her jacket. “Yes. This never would have happened if it wasn’t for me. Me being here isn’t helping. It’s making things worse.”
“Making things worse?” I asked. “How on earth could you being here make things worse? Your dad was happy to see you. And so was your mom and your brother. I hardly think your being here is a burden on any of them.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Or are you just making it complicated?”
Piper stilled her hands. Her chest swelled as she drew a deep breath. Then she exhaled with her eyes closed. Sunlight breaking through the window cast dramatic shadows across her cheek and painted her skin orange. “My parents only recently found out what I’ve been up to this year. And the news didn’t sit well with them. Especially with my dad.”
“You didn’t give him a heart attack because you’re dating twelve men.” It was hard not to laugh. The whole idea sounded preposterous. She was a grown-ass woman, not a seventeen-year-old girl.
“No,” she said. “I suppose not entirely. But there are other variables.”
The engines roared as the plane prepared to move to the beginning of the runway. The steady hum filled the cab, and the seat vibrated gently beneath me like a prequel to take off. I traced the lines of Piper’s expression, tired, sad, frustrated, spent. Whatever this was had been weighing heavily on her for some time.
“Tell me about these variables,” I said.
Her lips curled in a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She slumped in her seat and gripped the armrests as the plane straightened out. Then the seatbelt light flicked on, and a soft chime rang through the cabin. We buckled in, and she was forced to sit up straighter.
“I have to wait until we’re in the air,” she said.
“Why?”
“Nerves. I’m a poor flyer.”
“Right.”
Seconds before the plane shot forward, I abandoned my seat and fell into the chair beside Piper. She watched me with wide eyes as I buckled myself in, and then I grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I’ve got you.”
Piper squeezed back.
I didn’t let go of her hand throughout the entire takeoff. She kept her eyes closed most of the time, which allowed me to sit and watch her. It still felt wrong to leave New York.
But that wasn’t my choice to make.
When the plane leveled out and we were flying a steady course, Piper opened her eyes and took a few deep breaths. I released my grip on her hand, and she let hers fall to her armrest before giving me a weary glance out of the corner of her eye. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Piper licked her lips. “My dad had this dream for me. A divine plan, so to speak.”
I didn’t say anything. Partly because I was afraid it would stop her from talking and partly because I had no idea what to say. I kept my tongue still and waited her out. Eventually, after a couple more breaths, Piper continued.
“You know my parents own a restaurant. They have for a long time. I grew up knowing that place as home. Every day after school, that’s where I’d be, in the kitchen or in the break room, eating whatever leftovers were on hand while I did my homework and teased my brother. It wasn’t a bad way to grow up. Not at all. I have fond memories of that place.” She paused as her brows drew together. Then she shook her head and sniffed. “But I don’t want it. And all my father has been able to see for the last few years is this legacy that he thinks the restaurant is going to be, and how he and my mother will leave it to Phillip and me, and we’ll carry on with the family business.”
“Talk about pressure,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said, dabbing at the corner
s of her eyes with her thumbs. “Lots of pressure. And for the longest time, I kept it to myself that I didn’t want it. I figured everything would sort itself out, you know? I’d go to college, get a degree, and get a good job. If I was lucky, I’d be able to make my way into medical school on scholarships or something. But I was kidding myself. Choosing another life for myself wasn’t in my mother's and father’s plan for me. Or for Phillip. Since we were born, our destiny has been to take over Piper’s Paradise.” She shot me a look. “It’s a stupid name. I know.”
“I’d eat at Piper’s Paradise,” I said sheepishly.
She almost laughed. “Yes, well, you’d be one of the only ones. Business is dead. Has been for a while. The restaurant is dying, and my parents have turned a blind eye for what feels like ages. I think it’s past saving, but they won’t let it go.” Her eyes filled with tears, and when she shook her head, there was anger in her expression and tension in her shoulders. “It’s burying them.”
“Piper,” I said, reaching for her.
She pulled away from me. “And my dad has been pushing himself too hard. He was under orders from his doctors to take it easy. And if I’d been home, I would have been able to step in for him and make up for what he couldn’t do anymore. But I wasn’t home. I was off gallivanting with handsome strangers and going for long walks on beaches. He needed me. And now look what’s happened. Look what I’ve done.”
“Hey,” I said, my tone sharp.
She flinched.
I turned toward her and put a hand over hers. “Listen to me, Piper—and don’t hate me when I say this—but you’re being ridiculous.”
Piper blinked. A tear rolled down her cheek. “Excuse me?”
“You are without a doubt the kindest person I’ve ever met. You have a heart of gold. You did not play a role in your father’s heart attack. And what’s more, you don’t owe him your future. You don’t have to roll over and accept a life he chose for you without asking if you even wanted it.”
Piper let out a sweet hiccup of surprise. “You don’t understand.”
