Katherine Garbera - Bound by a Child

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.

He put the heels of his hands over his eyes, pushing as hard as he could until he saw stars and there were no more tears.

“Another Scotch, sir?”

Allan dropped his hands and glanced up at his butler. Fawkes was standing there with a glass in one hand. “No. I’m going to pack and then get ready to head to the airport.”

“Yes, sir,” Fawkes said. “I have already arranged the accommodations. I’ve been tracking the weather, as well.... There might be a situation.”

“What kind of situation?”

“Tropical storm in the Atlantic, but it’s not predicted to head toward North Carolina. Just keeping my eye on it.”

“Thanks, Fawkes.”

Allan walked away and forced his mind to the task at hand. There was no reason why he couldn’t get through his best friend’s death the way he handled everything else. He’d manage and take control of the situation.

* * *

For once, Jessi’s sharp tongue was dulled by Allan’s generous offer to let her ride on his jet to the Outer Banks with him. Or maybe it was all the talk of funerals making her numb. As soon as she finished texting, she turned to put her phone on the hall table and found herself staring at a photo of Patti on the wall.

Jessi’s heart hurt and she started to cry. She missed Patti. She missed the talks they wouldn’t have. She longed to be able to pick up the phone and call her again. But that couldn’t happen.

She sank to the floor, wrapped her arms around her waist and just sat there, trying to pretend that the news wasn’t true. She didn’t want to imagine her world without Patti. Granted, she had her sisters, but Patti was the person who knew her best. They’d gotten into trouble together since the second grade. What was she going to do now?

There was a knock on the door and she stared at it before forcing herself to her feet and wiping her face on her sleeve. Then she took a quick look at herself in the mirror.

Pitiful. Suck it, up, Jess. No one likes a crybaby.