“You forgot this in the car.”
“Throw it away.”
“Sir?”
“I don’t want it.”
“Oh. Are you sure? I saw you find it. I bet some child is missing it.”
I hadn’t thought of that, but the last thing I wanted to do was start thinking about children again. “Does that sound like my problem?”
“No, sir. Sorry, sir.” The driver took a step back, and I almost snapped at him again. If he wanted to keep his job, he’d need to toughen up.
I rubbed a hand over my face. “Rick?”
“Rob.”
“Whatever.” The last thing I needed was my family to hear I was running around picking up stuffed animals off the streets. They’d think I’d lost my mind again. “Just dispose of the fucking thing, and don’t tell anyone about it. Got it?”
“Dispose of it?” Eyes wide, he looked down at the stuffed animal like it was evidence I was asking him to make disappear. “Here or somewhere else?”
Oh my God.
I ripped the thing out of his hands and growled, “Forget it. I’ll get rid of it.”
Still looking freaked, Rob stammered, “Should I wait, sir? Will you need a ride home?”
“I’ll call if I do,” I said as I walked away. New drivers were a pain in my ass. Had I said that to my youngest brother, Gian, he would have told me I wouldn’t have that problem as often as I did if I wasn’t such an asshole.
Asshole.
I didn’t even mind the label anymore. Like so much else, it didn’t fucking matter.
I let myself into my office, tossed the stuffed animal onto one of the chairs, opened the bottle, and took a long swig. While loosening my tie, I walked over to my desk, sat down, and propped my feet up on it before taking another generous gulp. The burn felt good on the back of my throat.
Oblivion couldn’t come fast enough. I raised the bottle again.
The more I drank, the sadder the stuffed animal looked. “Don’t look at me like that,” I said with a slur. All glassy-eyed, it just continued to stare back at me.
I slammed my fist down on my desk.
“I don’t care if there is some kid looking for you. Let the little bastard learn now that if you don’t take care of something, it disappears like that.”
I snapped my fingers in the air.
“Throwing you away would be doing a favor for that kid. A fucking favor.”
I tipped the bottle back again.
“You picked a really shitty day to show up. You know that?”
The blank stare mocked me.
“I bet you do. The universe loves to fuck with people, doesn’t it? Well, the joke’s on you. I don’t feel anything. Nothing. You should have taken me along with them, because whatever good there was in me died with them.”
The door of my office opened. “Yep, he’s in here.”
Oh, fuck.
All three of my brothers walked in. Technically, Gian is my cousin, but my parents raised him as one of their own—and, as far as we’re concerned, he’s our brother.
Mauricio smoothly removed the bottle from my hand and placed it on the table behind him. Christof hovered beside him. Gian plopped down in a chair in front of my desk and said, “Why do you never invite us to the party?”
“How did you know I was here?” I growled.
With two fingers, Mauricio picked the stuffed animal off the chair and studied it as he answered. “I bribe all your drivers to tell me where you are when you go off the grid.”
I dropped my feet to the floor and wagged a finger at Gian. “See, they deserve to be fired. Damn snitches.”
“He’s wasted,” Christof said.
Gian nodded. “Let’s get him home.”
“What is this thing?” Mauricio asked, still holding the toy out in front of him as if it might bite.
“Nothing,” I said. “I found it near the Durham site. I couldn’t just leave it there.”
All three of my brothers looked at me with visible sympathy in their eyes, and my temper rose in response. “I’m not doing this. Does it look like I want any of you here?”
Christof folded his arms across his chest. “I call shotgun. I’m not sitting in the back seat with him again. Last year he slept on my shoulder the whole way home.”
“I did not,” I instantly denied, then remembered doing it. Like a werewolf, one day a year I turned into someone I didn’t recognize. Every year I thought I would handle it better, that I wouldn’t turn, but there I was again—drunk in my office, not wanting to go home because there was no place I considered home anymore.
Mauricio stepped closer. “Come on, Sebastian. Let’s get you out of here.”
I covered my face with both hands. If life was fair, I would have been the brother mine deserved. I would have faced tragedy, pulled myself together, and shown them that Romanos could survive anything.
I stood and swayed on my feet. They were right—it’d be better for the business if I kept this side of myself out of the office. “Thanks.”
My brothers flanked me as we walked through my secretary’s office. As we approached the elevator, I heard Mauricio ask Christof, “What should I do with this?”
Christof answered, “Leave it here.”
I didn’t turn to see what they did with it; I had more important things to think about: walking straight and not throwing up.
CHAPTER FOUR
* * *
HEATHER
Late the next morning, dressed in a dark-blue skirt, matching blouse, and sensible flats, I zipped Ava’s lunch box closed. “Ready?”
She looked ready. Ava was particular about how she looked. Her hair needed to be neatly braided. She liked dresses with matching tights and owned more pairs of shoes than I did. I smiled. It was easy to forget we didn’t share the same gene pool. She was a mini me, but a more colorful version. “I want to help you look for Wolfie.”
“No, hon, you need to go to preschool.”
“Why? I’m good at finding things.”
“Yes, you are, but I’m going to be in the road. It’s not safe.”
Wrong thing to say. Ava teared up. “Not safe?”
“For small children. For you. I’ll be fine. I’m taller.” I hugged her, then picked up her lunch box. “Come on—the sooner you go to school, the sooner I can look for him.”
Bottom lip quivering, she placed her hand in mine. “Can you drive the long way? Maybe he’s on the road waiting for me.”
Doubtful, but I agreed. People said miracles happened every day. I didn’t have firsthand experience with that, but Ava’s concern for him was so pure—that had to count for something, didn’t it?
Silly me, since she’d shown determination to find Wolfie, I had expected her to climb into her car seat without protest. The inner workings of a child’s mind were more complex than that. I pleaded. I warned. If I’d had a million dollars, I would have considered bribing her with it. Eventually I turned and leaned against the car, shaking my head.
She stopped crying and looked at me. “What are you doing?”
I shrugged. “Giving up. I’m not going to wrestle you into the car seat again. If you don’t get in on your own, I guess we’re never going anywhere again.”
Sniff. Frown. Sniff. “We have to look for Wolfie.”
“I want to look for him, but I don’t really have a choice, do I? If I can’t get you in the car, how can I go anywhere? Luckily I have the kind of job I can do from home.” I pushed away from the car. “I can probably find someone to come over and watch you. Let’s go back inside.”
“No.” She put her hands on her hips and planted her feet.
“I suppose I could bring my laptop out here and work in the driveway.”
She squared her shoulders. “No. I’m getting in.”
Please. Yes.
I opened the back door. She walked toward it, then stopped. Those big blue eyes of hers met mine, and my heart twisted in my chest. “I’m scared.”
I p
ut a hand on her shoulder and hugged her to my side briefly. “But you’re also very brave. Brave doesn’t mean never being afraid. Brave is being stronger than what scares you.”
She nodded. So solemn. So much like me when I was that age. My father always said I knew how to put on a brave face no matter what I was up against. I’d definitely made my share of mistakes raising Ava, but I needed to believe I had done as much right. Watching her climb into her car seat and secure herself went a long way to reassure me I had.
We drove down the road we’d lost Wolfie on, but there was no sign of him. I didn’t promise her again that I’d find him, because I was beginning to doubt I would. Drop-off went surprisingly smoothly. I spoke to her teacher on the side and rushed out of there before Ava had a chance to remember that she didn’t want to stay.
Two hours later I was sitting at my desk in my small office, trying to motivate myself to dig into emails I was sure were waiting for me. Fighting a headache, I released my hair from its clip and ran my hands through it.
“Knock, knock,” Teri, my assistant, said as she walked in. “Hey, you should wear your hair down more often. It’s really pretty.”
I forced a smile. “Thanks. Now what can I do for you?”
Her smile was much brighter than mine; she’d probably slept the night before. “You have a package. A courier brought it over. It’s light.”
My heart was thudding in my chest. She handed me the box, and it was indeed light. I shook it, and the contents sounded like they were something soft . . . could it be . . . had someone found Wolfie? I read the card. “Hope this is what you were looking for—Mr. and Mrs. Eddy.”
Barely breathing, I tore off the ribbon. Blue glass eyes looked up at me from the face of an exact replica of Wolfie—a perfectly clean, beautiful copy. My shoulders sagged as I put the box down on my desk. “What a beautiful gesture.”
Teri pulled the stuffed animal out of the box. “Is it the exact same wolf?”
I nodded. “That’s what he used to look like.”
“You could tell Ava you gave him a bath.”
“I’d also have to tear up one of his legs, sew it back together, and mark up the bottom of his feet with nail polish”—I sighed—“then lie to her.”
“Everyone lies to their kids. I would to mine if I had any.”
“There’s enough in her life that will be confusing as she gets older. I want to be a person she knows she can trust.”
“It’s just a stuffed animal.”
“Thanks for bringing the package in to me, Teri.” She accepted the gentle dismissal in my tone. It was okay that she didn’t understand. I didn’t need her or anyone else’s approval—not when it came to Ava. If I had listened to well-meaning friends, I wouldn’t have taken on the responsibility of her in the first place. A friend, one who had drifted out of my life soon afterward, had told me I would regret adopting Ava—and it had been wrong for Brenda to ask me to, since her child wasn’t my problem.
Problem? Of all the things Ava was to me, she’d never been that.
No matter how she’d come into my life, she’d become part of me just as I was part of her. Family wasn’t a concept I considered myself an expert on, but Ava had given me a second chance at getting it right. I didn’t regret a single sleepless night or missing out on whatever people my age did when they didn’t have children.
I took the package off my desk and set it on the floor. The Eddys had been clients of mine almost from the first day I’d opened my doors. Their kindness warmed my heart. I took out a piece of stationery and wrote a thank-you note, then put it in my pile of outgoing mail.
My attention returned to the stuffed animal they’d sent. Trying to pass it off as the real Wolfie was tempting, but I knew I couldn’t do it. Others might handle the situation differently or better, but right or wrong, all I could do was the best I knew how to.
I decided to give the wolf to Ava with the truth about where he came from. It was the same brand—that had to make it Wolfie’s cousin or something.
I dug into answering emails and updating files for my clients. Time flew by, as it always did when I lost myself in work. There was a certain satisfaction from knowing I was good at what I did and that what I did mattered. I’d been offered jobs at a few big financial-planning firms, but I wouldn’t have felt comfortable giving up control like that.
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust anyone—just that I trusted myself and my instincts more. Having the rug pulled out from beneath my feet early in life had taught me the value of owning my own damn rug.
“Knock, knock.”
I came back to the present to see Teri standing at my office door again. “I have something you should see.”
My stomach did that funny flip again even as I told myself to stay off that roller coaster. I sat back and stretched my arms above my head. “What?”
She walked over to the side of my desk and turned her phone so I could see the screen. “Your post about Wolfie has been shared five thousand times.”
I took her phone so I could see it better. “You’re kidding.” No, there it was—five thousand shares and hundreds of comments. I scanned the first fifty or so. “Did anyone say they’d seen him?”
Teri pursed her lips. “No. Sorry.”
I handed her phone back to her. “That’s incredible, though. I’ll show Ava tonight. I’m sure it’ll make her feel better that so many people are looking for him. Thanks for bringing it to my attention.”
I wasn’t actually sure that the shares would help at all—but there was a chance they might. I wasn’t looking forward to telling Ava I hadn’t found him. One almost-Wolfie and hope . . . that was all I had.
Pocketing her phone, Teri continued to look down at me. “Some of my friends are meeting me after work. We thought we’d look for him before we go out. Ask around at gas stations and stuff. I’ll text you if we find him.”
A lump rose in my throat. “Thank you.”
Teri didn’t move. She looked like she had something else she wanted to say. I waited. Finally, she said, “Ava’s lucky to have a mother like you.”
I blinked quickly and smiled. “Are you angling for a raise?”
Her smile beamed. “No, but if that’s where gratitude takes you, I’ll have my friends look for Wolfie all night.”
“Find Wolfie, and you’ll have earned a raise.” I chuckled and checked the time. “It’s four. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Alone again, I leaned back in my chair and let out a long breath. Five thousand shares. I had expected only a handful of people to care. I took out my phone and read the messages with a growing sense of wonder. Friends, clients, people I didn’t know, were sharing stories of their own childhood “Wolfie.” Some still had them. I wiped tears from the corners of my eyes.
I didn’t know if it was the simplicity of a child loving a stuffed animal or the connection people were making to a more innocent time in their lives, but their responses restored some of my faith in humanity. The comments came from people of all ages, races, backgrounds. Even men were saying that they had shared my post on pages and groups they belonged to.
Someone had even shared it on a page for active and retired Marines.
When all else fails—send in the Marines.
I smiled.
Why not?
Earlier that day, I’d been ready to give up, but the outpouring of support for Ava was bringing something back to life in me.
I was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, this time there’d be a happy ending.
CHAPTER FIVE
* * *
SEBASTIAN
As I walked into my office building, I missed the days when I cured a hangover with a good, stiff drink. Thankfully, a headache was all that was left of the day before. If I spoke to any of my family, they would act as if last night hadn’t happened.
My reflection in the mirror beside the elevator didn’t show me anything unexpected. My suit was crisply pressed. My black hair was perfectly in pla
ce. I looked every bit the successful business shark I was.
Every hint of weakness had fled. Gian joked that I had a resting don’t-fuck-with-me face.
Good.
It’s best not to mess with a man who has nothing left to lose.
I strode through my secretary’s office, sparing her no more than a perfunctory “Good morning.”
Miss Steele had worked for me for almost three years. Mauricio liked to joke that she’d quit at least once each of those years, but she’d never handed me a resignation or said a word about wanting to leave to me. He claimed it was because he kept talking her into staying. Was it true? I never cared enough to ask her. She was efficient and reliable. I paid her a generous salary.
Our encounters didn’t require more depth than that.
“Mr. Romano,” she said in a rush as I passed.
I halted and turned. “Yes?”
“I found this on my desk, and I was wondering if there was something you wanted me to do with it.” She held up what I had completely pushed out of my thoughts—the stuffed animal I’d found on the side of the road.
It rocked my mood like a sucker punch to the kidney. No part of May 20 was ever allowed to bleed over to the next day. My fury must have shown on my face, because she took a step back.
“Throw it away. I don’t want to ever see it again. Is that clear enough for you?”
“Yes, sir.” She hid it behind her back. “Consider it gone.”
“Good.” Chest tight, glaring even though my issue was not with her, I snapped, “Is that all?”
“Yes.”
I turned, walked into my office, and slammed the door. Fists clenched, I took several deep breaths. One day. I could concede one day to the past, but that was all I would allow. Slowly, I regained control of my mood and pushed everything else out of my head.
First on my docket was the decision of whether or not to purchase the lot in Durham. I made several calls, brought some reluctant officials around to agreeing to more than they wanted to, and decided that moving forward with the deal would be lucrative. I signed the paperwork and sent it on to my lawyers.
The Broken One Page 3
