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“You sound sarcastic,” Allan commented, glancing down at his mobile phone yet again.
“It’s the best I can do,” she said.
“Excuse me for a moment. I keep getting a call from a number I don’t know,” he told her.
He picked up his phone and answered. After a moment, his brow furrowed, and he hunched back in his chair. “Oh, God, no,” he muttered.
“What?” she asked. She grabbed her Kate Spade bag and started to slide off the bench, until Allan grabbed her hand.
She shook her head but waited as he listened, and then his face went ashen. He turned away from her.
“How?” he asked, his voice gruff.
She could only stare at him as he shook his head and rasped, “The baby?” After a pause he murmured, “Okay, I will be there on Friday.” He disconnected the call and turned to her. “John and Patti are dead.”
Jessi wanted to believe he was lying, but his face was pale and there was none of that arrogant charm she always associated with him. She pulled her phone out and saw that she, too, had received several calls from an unknown number.
“I can’t believe it. Are you sure?”
He gave her a look that was so lost and wounded, she knew the truth.
“No,” she said, wrapping her arm around her waist.
God, no.
* * *
Allan was shaken to his core. He’d lost his parents at a rather young age, which was part of the reason he and John had bonded, but this was...wrong. It was just wrong that someone so young and with so much to live for had died.
Jessi’s hands were shaking, and he glanced over at her, only to find everything he was feeling inside was there on her face. The woman who always looked so tough and in control was suddenly small and fragile.
He got up and moved around to her side, putting his arm around her shoulder and drawing her into the curve of his body. She resisted for the merest of seconds before she turned her face into his chest, and he felt the humid warmth of her tears as they soaked into his shirt.
She was silent as she cried, which was nothing more than he’d expect from someone as in control as Jessi always was. By focusing on her pain and her tears he was able to bury his own feelings. A world without his best friend wasn’t one he wanted to dwell on. John balanced him out. Reminded Allan of all the reasons why life was good. But now—
“How?” she asked, pushing back from him and grabbing a cocktail napkin to wipe her face and then blow her nose.
Her face was splotchy, red from the tears, and she took a shuddering breath as she tried to speak again. The tears were at odds with her rebel-without-a-care look. She wore her version of business attire, a short black skirt that ended at her thighs, a tight green jacket that had bright shiny zippers and a little shell camisole that revealed the upper curves of her breasts and her tattoo.
His chest was too tight for words. He didn’t really know how to talk through the grief. But as he stared into those warm brown eyes of Jessi’s—one of the very first things he’d noticed about her when they’d met—he realized that he could do this. He would pull himself together and do this for her.
“Car accident,” he said.
“John is an excellent driver, as is Patti—oh, God, is Hannah okay?”
“Yes. She wasn’t with them. Another driver hit them head-on as they were coming home from a Chamber of Commerce meeting.”
Allan was John’s next-of-kin contact, which was why he’d gotten the call. “Let’s get out of here.”
She nodded. He could tell she was in no shape to drive, and steered her toward his Jaguar XF. She got into the passenger seat and then slumped forward, putting her hands over her face as her shoulders shook.
Never in his life had Allan felt this powerless, and he hated it. He stood outside the car and tipped his head back, staring up into the fading fall sunset. He felt tears burning in his own eyes and used his thumbs to press them back. He pushed hard on his eye sockets until he was able to staunch the flow, and then walked around the car and got inside.
Jessi sat there silently next to him, looking over at him with those wet, wounded eyes, and for the first time he saw the woman beneath the brashness. He saw someone who needed him.
“What is Hannah going to do? Patti’s mom has Alzheimer’s and there’s no other close family.”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “John has some family but not really anyone close. Just a couple of cousins. We’ll figure it out.”
“Together,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I just said that.”
“Me, either. But it only makes sense now.”
“It does. Plus John and Patti would want us to do it together,” Jessi said.
“Yes, they would,” he said.
The little girl would never know her parents, but Allan decided he’d do everything in his power to ensure that she wouldn’t grow up alone.
He took Jessi’s hand in his. “Let’s call their attorney back and find out the answers we both need.”
She linked her fingers with his as he made the call and waited to be connected.
When he was put through, he said, “This is Allan McKinney again. You and I were just discussing John McCoy. Do you mind if I put you on speaker? I’m with Jessi Chandler. She is Hannah’s other godparent.”
“Not at all.” Allan put the phone on speaker. “Go ahead.”
“This is Reggie Blythe, Ms. Chandler. I’m the attorney for the McCoys.”
“Hello, Mr. Blythe. What can you tell us?”
“Please call me Reggie. I don’t have all the details as to what happened, but John and Patti were on their way back from a Chamber of Commerce dinner and were involved in a fatal accident. Miss Hannah was at home with a sitter—” they heard the rustling of papers “—Emily Duchamp. Emily has agreed to stay overnight with the baby. Hannah will be placed in a temporary foster situation in the morning.”
Jessi’s grip on Allan tightened. “Patti would hate that. Is there any way you can keep Hannah in her home?”
“Actually, as cogodparents, you have certain rights, but you will need to get here as soon as possible to avoid her being placed in the state’s care.”
State care. Allan knew that John never would have wanted Hannah to end up there. And there was no need for it. Didn’t John have distant cousins and a great-aunt on his dad’s side? “I believe John had a cousin who lives nearby.”
“I don’t think it’s best to go into this over the phone. When can you both get to North Carolina?”
“As soon as humanly possible.”
“Good,” Reggie said. “I’ll be in my office all day tomorrow. Please let me know when you two will get here.”
“Oh, we’re not together,” Jessi said.
“Aren’t you? You called me together, and given the terms of the will—never mind. We will sort it all out when you get to my office,” Reggie said.
“Why did you think we were together?” Allan asked.
“John and Patti indicated in their will that they wanted guardianship to be given to the two of you.”
“We figured as much,” Jessi said. “We can come up with some sort of schedule.”
“In the eyes of the courts,” Reggie said, “the best arrangement is to provide a stable home for the child. But again, we can talk more about this when you get here.”
When Allan disconnected the call, he dropped Jessi’s hand, and she looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. “We fight all the time.”
“We do,” he said, before turning away and trying to think. It was almost too much to process.
His best friend was dead. Allan was a committed bachelor who had been named coguardian of a tiny baby with the one woman on the planet who aggravated him the most. He looked at her again. She seemed as upset by the tragedy as he was. But he knew they’d both do whatever they could to make the situation work. It didn’t matter that they were enemies; from this moment forward they were bound together by baby Hannah.
“You and me...” she said.
“And baby makes three.”
Two
Allan dropped Jessi off at her place in Echo Park. She looked small and lost and so unlike the indomitable woman he usually knew her to be that he didn’t know how to handle her.
She didn’t turn and wave as she entered her house, and he hadn’t expected her to. He knew in time she’d get back to herself, but then he wondered if that were true. How could either of them ever be the same again?
Traffic was heavy, and it took him forty minutes to get to his home in Beverly Hills. He’d purchased the mansion after Playtone had made him a millionaire. John had actually helped him build the pergola and brick backyard eating area and barbecue. As he pulled into his circle drive, he was haunted by memories of his friend on his last visit to California.
Allan dropped his head forward on the steering wheel, but tears didn’t come. Inside, he was cold and felt alone. And he realized that the last person he cared about was gone. He’d loved his parents, really loved them. They’d been a close family unit—just the three of them. Allan’s grandfather had disowned his daughter when she’d refused to marry a wealthy heir he’d picked out for her, intending to funnel that money into his revenge against the Chandlers. It had only been after his grandfather’s death when Kell had come to Allan and invited him to be a part of Playtone that he’d joined the company and put his penchant for managing money to good use.
She’d married instead for love, and they’d lived a quiet little life in the Temecula Valley—two hours away from Los Angeles, but really a world apart.
Allan heard a rap on the window of his Jaguar XF and looked up to see his butler, Michael Fawkes, standing there. The fifty-seven-year-old former middleweight boxer had been in his employ since he’d inked his first multimillion-dollar deal for Playtone. Fawkes was a great guy and looked a little bit like Mickey Rourke.
“Are you okay, sir?”
Allan took his keys from the ignition and climbed out of the car. “Yes, Fawkes, I am. But John McCoy was killed in a car accident. I’m leaving tomorrow to fly to the Outer Banks to help make funeral arrangements and see to his daughter.”
“My condolences, sir. I liked Mr. McCoy,” Fawkes said.
“Everyone liked him,” Allan said.
“Shall I accompany you?” Fawkes asked.
“Yes. I need you to make sure we have accommodation in Hatteras. I think we should be able to stay at the B and B that John and Patti own...owned,” he said, turning away from Fawkes. “Give me a minute.”
Jessi would probably have a hard time booking a flight to North Carolina at this hour, and it wasn’t a big town they were flying into. For a moment he rejected the idea of making an offer to let her fly with him. But then he knew he had to at least reach out to her. She was truly the only other person who felt the way he did right now.
As much as she irritated him, and though it irked him to admit it, he needed her. She made him feel as if he wasn’t dealing with John’s death alone.
“Please include Ms. Chandler in our arrangements,” Allan said.
“Really?” Fawkes asked in a surprised tone of voice. Jessi did her best to rattle the butler whenever they came into contact.
“Yes. I was with her when she got the news. She’s as affected by this as we both are.”
Allan pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and texted her.
I’m taking the jet to North Carolina in the morning. Want a lift?
Jessi’s response was immediate. Thanks. I’d appreciate that. Are you leaving tonight? I’ve made arrangements with the funeral home to talk about Patti’s service in the morning. If we go tonight I can talk to them in person.
I had thought to leave tomorrow but given that we are going to lose three hours perhaps tonight is best.
I thought so.
Can you be packed and ready in two hours?
Of course. TTYL
“Very well, sir. I shall make all the arrangements,” Fawkes said when he learned of the plan. “When are we leaving?”
“Two hours,” Allan said.
He left his assistant and headed to his den, where he poured himself a stiff Scotch and then went over to his recliner to call his cousins. But there was a knock on the door before he could dial.
“Come in,” he called.
Kell and Dec entered the room. They looked somber, and he realized that though John was his best friend, both his cousins had counted John as their friend, as well.
“We came as soon as we heard,” Dec said. He stood in the doorway looking awkward.
“Thanks. I’m leaving tonight. I don’t expect the trip to take more than a week. Jessi is coming with me, Kell. I think we might have to adjust some of her deadlines,” Allan said. Even if she was his most irritating adversary, he had to help her out now. He’d seen her broken and he shared her pain.
“We can discuss business later. When will the funeral be?”
“I don’t know. I have to talk to the funeral home once we get to North Carolina. John only had a few distant cousins. I won’t know what kind of arrangements they might have already made until I’m on the ground there. I might end up in charge of the planning. And then there is Patti to consider. I know that Jessi is arranging her service.”
“Just let us know and we’ll fly out for it,” Dec said. “Do you need anything?”
He shook his head. What could he say? For once he was at a loss for words. “I’ve got this,” he finally said.
“Of course you do, but he was our friend, too,” Dec said. Allan saw a quiet understanding in his cousin’s eyes as he looked over at him.
Falling in love had changed the other man. He wasn’t as distant as he’d always been.
“I don’t know how else to handle this except to plan and take control,” Allan admitted.
“That’s the only way,” Kell said. “We’ll leave you to it.”
Dec glanced quickly at him again as he followed Kell out. When his cousins were gone, Allan fell back on the large, battered brown sofa that didn’t quite fit with the decor in the elegant and luxuriously appointed room. The couch had major sentimental value—John and Allan had purchased this piece at a garage sale for their first college apartment.
