Themoonglowswithwhitelightandhangslowandroundoverthenearbyoceandarkenedbynightasifit,likethehundreds ofguests inthe gardenofone ofthe SanFrancisco Knighthotels, is watchingthe beautiful brunette and star ofthe night. Emma Knight, is thatwoman, the twenty-eight-year-oldheiress to the hotel chain’s worldwide empire, who, infact, losther fatheronemonthago Now,her brotherChancerulestheirhotel empireandher motherhasfledtoEuropefor reasonsfew,I suspectEmmaincluded,knows.
ButIknow
She stands nextto Randall Montgomery, her brother's right-hand and confidant, a manwho mightbe fitenoughand decent enoughlookingifhedidn’tactlikehehasastickuphisass.Amanonmyradarforreasonshe’llsoonregret.HewantsEmma andhermoneyandtheempireherfatherfounded Sheisthefurthestdownthefoodchainofthemall,andbasedonherhistory withherfather,evenfurtherdownthanwouldbeexpected.Nodoubt,sheinheritedwithherfather’sdeath,butIwouldn’tbe shockedtodiscovershewasgivenatokeninsteadofagoldmine
The announcer stands at a podiumand begins lavishlyspeakingof Emma’s father withpurpose. Tonight, withwomenin fancy gowns and men in tuxedos, ice carved into sculptures and champagne poured in glasses, Emma is here to accept a philanthropyawardonhisbehalfwhileherbrotheriscuriouslyabsent.Ifhewerepresent,Iwouldn’tbehere.NeitherI,nor anyofthe Northfamilycouldstandher father,notthatIfindher brother anymore palatable.Her father is gone,though,and nowEmmaistheproverbialqueenofthehour Andthequeen,unawarethatsheis,hashadmyattentionforquitesometime There’sironyinthefactthatI,JaxNorth,theeldestnowofthelivingNorthfamilyoffspringis,infact,themanwhowatches her Anironyshe’llunderstandsoon,butnottoosoon Fornow,Istandatoneoftherowsofwhite-clothedtables,deepenough beyond inthe crowd ofpeople to be as good as inthe shadows;a manwhose familyhas done business withher familyfor decades,thoughlhavebeenintentionallyinvisibleinthoseendeavorsjustasIamherenow Presentbutunseen Emmastepstothepodium,butnotbeforeIcatchaglimpseofherpalepinkfloor-lengthdress.It’selegantinitssimplicity,in the wayithighlights her slender butwomanlyfigure. Her hands grip the sides ofthe podiumand for a longmoment, a full minuteatleast,shesimplylooksoutacrossthecrowdbutdoesn’tspeak There’sachargeofexpectationintheroom,asense of the crowd pushing her to break the silence and when finally, her pink-painted lips part, the microphone crackles and squeaks This seems to jolther and she laughs nervously, a softsweetlaughto matchher sweetlittle ass Perhaps the only sweetthingsabouttheKnightfamily.
“Longtime,man,”hegreets,offeringmehishand.It’sastronghand,andwhenIlookintohisblueeyes,Iseethemanborna savant, the man who sees numbers more than words I see the man who helped Bennett Enterprises reach beyond a legal powerhousetoaconglomerate,evenbeforeacquiringanNFLteam.
We set-up the meeting and the ways this little encounter has inspired me are many I cut right into a dimly lit bar that’s desolateatthemomentandthankfuckforit.Thedamnhotelisfilledtotherimfortheawardsceremony.Butbeingalonesuits me justfine rightaboutnow and Iwalkto the backofthe bar and slide into a red leather booththatoverlooks a roomwith couches, cushychairs, and danglinglights but also provides a curtainfor privacy. The Knight name is all about luxuryand comfort,butatitscore,it’saboutgreed.Atmycorerightnow,I’maboutthatspeechEmmawasgiving,aboutthepainatits core ThatpainiswhyI’mhere
He’sjustfilledmyglass,andthenit’satmylipswhenEmmawalksintothebar.Alone.She’sdonehertimeonstageandran for cover The hotel mightbe hostingthe event, butshe isn’t She’s halfwayinto the bar whenvoices sound behind her She peeksoverhershoulderandthenwithapanickedlook,dartsinmydirection.
To mysurprise and Idon’tsurprise easily she slides into the boothwithme and pulls the curtainshut. “So sorry,” she says,claimingtheseatnexttome “Ireallyneedtoavoidaconversationandwell,breatheamomentorten Theonlywaytodo thatistobehavingaprivatemeetingthatlooksasifit’sjustthat:private,nottobedisturbed.”Shetakesmyglassanddowns mywhiskey
“Thankyoufor sayingthat,”shesaysinadeepbreath,“becauseifonemorepersontellsmetimewill makeitall better,I might scream.” She softens her voice. “I’msad to saythat I barelyknew your father and brother, and onlyknow younow becausemyintrusion,thatyouneitherchosenorinvited”
“ShouldIhave?”
“Whywouldyou? Youdon’tknow me.” She laughs a bitter laugh.“Well,there is myfamilymoney.That’s whateveryone knowsandwants Theythinktheyknowmyworth,buttheyknownothing” Idon’taskwhatthatmeans. Idare to slide closer to her. Idare to allow mylegto press to hers, the currentbetweenus charmingtheair “Iam aNorth,whichmeansthatIhavepowerandmoney Idon’tneedyours” “Moneyfeedsgreed.Whatyouhaveisneverenough.”
Irefill theglassandsipbeforehandingittoher.Shestaresattheglassbeforeher gazeliftstomymouth.Unlikemoments before, she’s now thinkingofexactlywhatIintended: abouther mouthwhere mymouthwas moments before “Ipromise to catchyouifyoufall,”Isaysoftly.
“Inever make a promise Idon’tkeep,” Isay, and Iwill catchher ifshe falls, because once Icatchher, she’s mine. Once she’smine,everythingcomesfullcircle “Never?”
Mylipsquirk.“Enjoyinggoodcompanyandgoodwhiskey.”IglanceatEmma.“Withabeautifulwoman,”Iadd. Iexpecther to blushand lookaway, butshe doesn’t For several beats she justlooks atme, her stare unreadable, butthe crackleintheairbetweenus,thewhipandpullofattraction,isdamnnearpalpable. “Emma,”Randallsnaps,“youhavepeopleherehonoringyourfather.”
“Right Responsibility calls” Her eyes, her sea-green eyes meet mine “Thank you, Jax For the company and the fine whiskey.”Randalloffersherhishand,butsheignoresitandstandsup.
“Don’tyouwanttheanswertoyourquestion?”Iask
Sheglancesbehindher,overhershoulder,tomeetmystare.“Yes,Ido.”Butshedoesn’tstayforananswer.Shewalksaway, doing the impossible, considering she’s a Knight and I’ma North, as she does; she makes me crave more of her, but that cravinginmechangesnothing.Icamehere,seekingherout,forareason.Thatreasonremainsthesame.
Emma
Randall’s hand comes downonmyelbow;a possessive touchthatbothers me more inthis momentthanperhaps itmight, withoutJax’s warningabouthis intentions. “Whatare youthinking?” he demands softlyas we weave throughclusters of tables.“You’reheretorepresentyourfather.”
MyheelsplantsolidlyonthehardwoodandIwhirltofacehim “Whodiedamonthagoofaheartattack Now mymother hasfledtoEuropetoheal,shuttingmeout,barelyspeakingtomebyphone.Youdogettheimpactthosetwothingshaveonme, right?”
“Igetthat,”hesays,hisfingerstighteningonmyelbowwherehehasyettoletmego.“Butyourbrother ” “Was supposed to be here instead ofme. He’s nothere. He was supposed to be here, notme, butit’s me who’s here. Me who’sfacingthis,sodon’tstartlecturingme”
Surpriseflickersinhiseyesatmyunexpectedpushbackwhichofcourse,isbecauseIdon’tpushback;notagainstmyfather, andallordersfrommybrotherandevenRandall,were always frommyfather,butthatisnomore Myneedtopleasehimeven inhis deathchanged two weeks backwhenI discovered things I wishI didn’t know. “Where is your head right now?” he demands,leaningincloser,sniffingmydirection “Yousmelllikewhiskey Drinkingatapublicevent-”
Hisjawsetshard “I’mworriedaboutyou It’snotlikeyoutorunofflikethis” “Myfather died a monthago,” I hiss. “What is normal for a monthafter myfather died? Please tell me because I don’t know”
“Theresheis!Emma!”
AtthesoundofMarionRoger’svoice,Isqueezemyeyesshutbecauseofcourse,Ican’tignoreoneoftheownersofBreeze Airlines,thehotel’slargestcorporateclient.ButGodknows,herconnectiontoapastI’veburiedisbadenough.Now,knowing whatIknowofherandmyfather,avoidancemightbesmarterthanlookingherintheeyesandtemptingmyselftotellherthatI know everything Atemptation, ifrealized, could well be dangerous and Isuspectthatshe knows Iknow this Isuspectshe knowsthatIwilldoalmostanythingtokeepwhatisburied,buried.
“Nice of you to attend tonight,” Randall greets them, offering Monroe his hand and leaving me to come toe to toe with Marion,herbouncingredcurlsandpiercinggreeneyesbeamwithfakeaffection.
“You’renot,”shesays,brushingmycheekinafartoointimategesture,intimateinwaysthatsuggestssomethingmorethan friendship.Anadvanceofsorts,onethatIunderstand.Iknowhowsexisusedasamanipulationtool.Iknowinwaysthatno one inmyfamilyknows Iunderstand,buttheycreated Idon’twelcome this womaninmylife inanyway,shape,or form I don’t planto replace myfather inher bed but that’s her family’s way. Fuckwhoever and however youcanfor moneyand power “You’renotokay”
MylipstightenandIthinkofthehellIwillreceivelaterifIdecline,whichmotivatesmyagreement “One Yes Ofcourse” Monroe motions to a table inthe center ofthe roomand the four ofus claimour seats. The waiter is ontop ofus almost instantlyandaseveryoneplacestheirorders,heatburnsmyneck,drawingmygazedirectlyforward,landingonJax I‘mnow sittingacrossfromhisboothandheneverpulledthecurtainshutagain.Westareateachotherandwhenthewaiterstopsnextto meandsays,“Ma’am?Whatwouldyoulike?”
This launches the table into sharingall their experiences inGermany, whichwas myintent. I wanted themtalkingabout themselves,abouttheirexperiences,ratherthanaskingquestionsaboutme Idon’tlookatJaxagain Idon’tdareforfearI’ll makemyinterestobvious,buthelooksatme.Ifeelhisattention,aheavyblanketthatwarmsmefarmorethanthecoffeeand thewhiskey.Idownmydrinkandorderanother,whilenooneatthetableseemstoevennotice.Anotherforalightweightlike meprovesamistake Halfwaydowntheglass,andmyheadspins,whilemystomachchurnswithanemptinessthathasn’tbeen properlyfilledinweeks.
IleanonthecounterandmentallyreplaythatnightI’dstayedinmyfather’shousealoneafterhisdeath,diggingthroughmy memoriesforthemanIknew,butallIfindaresecrets.Hissecretsthatarenolongersecrets.Idon’tknowwhoIamanymore.I don’tknowifI’veeverknownwhoIam.Iwasjustwhotheywantedmetobe.Who he wantedmetobe,whichiswhyIdid thingstofeelsomethingelse,somethingthatwasallme,somethingthatInow regret.Ilookinthemirrorandstudymyheartshapedfacesolikemymother’s,mylongbrownhair streakedwithhintsofred,whilehersisarichshinydarkbrownthatI always envy Mylightgreeneyes, her greeneyes Ithinkofall the times she and Itraveled together, scouted together And whilewewereaway,myfatherplayedandplottedinwaysIcanbarelyfathom.
AndthensuddenlyMarionroundsthecornerandlaunchesherselfinourdirection.Iturntofaceherandfindmyselfwhisked into a hug “Iknow this is a hard time for you Iknow” Her voice cracks withemotionthatshe mightplayoffas losinga friend,butIknowit’smore.IknowthemanywaysthiswomanhurtmymotherandIdon’tknowhowIleavethatalone. Ipushbackfromher.“I’mfine.”
Idon’tlookathim.Idon’tneedhimtotellmewhatIcanorcan’tdointheaftermathofmyfather’ssuddendeparturefrom this world.FromwhatIknow,he’s now higher upthechainofcommand,certainlyaboveme,perhaps moresothanheeven knows, butitdoesn’tmatter Idon’twantwhathe wants Idon’twantto rule the world All Iever wanted was something else.SomethingI’mnotevengoingtoletmyselfentertainrightnow.
“I’mrighthere,”MarioncallsoutandI’mwhiskedbackintothehelloftheonedrinkthatsomehowbecametwo.Islowmy drinkingandorderrealcoffee Withcaffeine,thehazeofboozestillpresent,butitshifts Nowitnumbsmysensesjustenough to make the topics ofthe economyand the expansionofairlines and hotels tolerable. Funnyhow notthatlongago, I’d have enjoyedsuchaconversation,onceuponatime,whenIwantedtopleasethekingofourempire “Aren’tyouopeningaBodegaBaylocation?”Monroeasks,lookingatme. “Weare,”Isay.“Whalewatching,oceans,andwineries.It’saperfectcombination.” “Areyougoingtoopenawinerytocompeteintheregionaswell?”Marionasks.
“We’repartneringwithawinemaker,soyesandno,”Ireply,sippingmycoffeeanddecidingsoberingupisnotworkingfor me IneedmoreNorthWhiskey IneedmoreJaxNorth “We’ll have to talk about a destination package,” Marion adds. “Bodega Bay and Breeze Airlines, a Knight/Roger partnership Anotherperfectpairingbetweenbignamedbrands Smart,don’tyouthink,Emma?”
Apartnership that has defined much of my life in ways few could understand, but Marion looks at me with a spark of awareness inher eyes. She knows I’mnotwhatIseem. She knows Idon’twantthatexposed. We bothknow thatgives her power.
“Partnershipsholdvalue,”Isay,butIdon’taddmore.Iwanttoshutherout.Ineedtoshutheroutbecausemypastcouldhurt ourbrand MypastisblackmailmaterialandIdon’tknowhowtowashthataway “We’re eager to explore any partnership with the Rogers,” Randall interjects, casting me a hard side-eye. “Perhaps we shouldplanacouples’tripdownthere”
Couples trip. As ifhe and Iare a couple. That’s it. I’mdone. “Speakingofwhich,” Isay. “Ihave a crazyweekahead. I shouldhitthebed.”
Eternallythis process continues, but finally, we stand and I endure another hugfromMarion “We’ll do that Bodega trip together.Let’stalkaboutitatthefireman’scharityevent.”
“Be there for me? Youhave beenridingme like I’ma problempetwho won’tbehave.” The elevator dings, a sound that echoesinmymindwiththepromiseofcompanyandanexcusetopushhimaway. “IfI’vebeenoverbearing ” “Youhave,”Isay.“Stepback.” Instead,hishandsettlesatmywaist InstinctisinstantandIshovehimback “Stop,Randall” Hestepsintome,thathandstillatmyhip,andangersurgesthroughme.“Emma ” “Stop,”Iorder.“Stoprightnow.” “Problem?”
TheairaroundRandallsnapsandpops “Whothefuckdoyouthinkyouare?” “Amanof little patience,” Jaxreplies all cool composure, “as youwell know.” Astatement that infers a historyI don’t expect.“Justaswebothknow,”Jaxadds,“thatshe’saKnightandyouarenot.”
Jax’s eyes meetmine fromover Randall’s shoulder and there is somethingcuttinginhis stare, somethingcold thatwasn’t there before, as ifhe feels Iamone withRandall. Ishake myhead, silentlyrejectingsuchwords buthe’s stone, unreadable stone.“Doyoureallywanttotravelthispathyou’retravelingrightnow,Randall?”heasks,hisgazeshiftingbacktotheother man
“Icouldpullyourbusiness,”Randallthreatens.
“AndI’mcertainshecouldoverruleyou”
Shebeingme,buthe’swrong.Idon’thavethatpower,nowmoresothanever.Randallmakesanamusedsound.“Youknow nothingaboutherorouroperation, Jax North ”
“Iknowthatyou’reactinglikeanasshole,”Jaxreplies.“Thinkaboutit,man.Tonightisnotthenight.” Tonight is not the night. He means because of my father. Doesn’t he? Why do I feel like there is something more there, something between these two that I don’t understand? Jax steps closer to Randall and speaks softly, whatever he’s said escapingmyears, butitreaches Randall’s. Atellingtale Iread fromthe stiffeningofhis spine, the tensionrollingalonghis shouldersthatevenbeneathhissuitjacketcannotbemissed
Asecondpasses,thentwo,andIcan’tseeanythingbutRandall’sback.Ican’thearthemspeakeitherbutsuddenlytheyturn to leave and disappear around the corner. I breathe out, myposture softening. What just happened? Apart of me wants to chargeafterthem.ApartofmefeelslikethisbattlethatjusteruptedisaboutmeandthereforeIhavearesponsibilitytoendit, but is it? I felt a familiar energy between them. I read something unspoken in their exchange. I suck in a breath when I
understand what happened tonight. Isat downwithJaxand made myselfa target, or rather, a weaponhe could use against Randall.
I canalmost feel the slice of the emotional blade, the painof yet another personusingme and this one, this one almost succeeded.ThisisexactlywhyeverythingIdofor mehastobeanonymous,hastobeoutsidethisworldofcutandbecut.I wasdrawntoJax IwantedJax Iwantedhimtothepointthathadhepushedjustalittlebitharder,atjusttherightmoment,I mighthaveendedupnakedwiththatman.StupidityishardtoswallowandIrotateandfacethedoor,shovingthekeyinfront ofthe sensor Once I’minside,Ileanonthe door andswallow againstthe tightness inmythroat WhyamIevenstayingthe night?Iliveinthecity.Idon’thaveanydesiretoturnbreakfastintobusinesscontacts.I’msuffocatingintheKnightempire.
Decisionmade, Igrab myphone, bookanUber, and withit onlyfifteenminutes out, hurrydeeper into mysuite, where I quicklychangeintojeans,sneakersandabaseballcapthatwillallowmetogetoutofherewithoutthelikelihoodofgarnering notice.PackingtakesmeanothertenminutesandsinceRandallhasn’tshownup,myescapeholdshope.Hurryingtothedoor,I peekintothe hallwaytofinditempty Myovernightbagis lightandItake the stairs,headingdowntwentyflights,butthat’s fine.Ineedtocleartheboozeoutofmysystemthat’sstillhazingmymind.OnceI’monthegroundlevel,Ipullthecapdown lowerandenterthelobby
ThecarhaltsinfrontoftheFolsomStreettower,ahigh-endpropertypartiallyownedbytheKnightcorporation,andusedfor rental incomeandpersonal use Invarious locations,this thirty-floor buildingis hometome,mybrother,andmyparents,or rather,mymother.Exitingthecar,thecoolnightair,madecoldbythewindoffthenearbyocean,liftsmyhairoffmyneckand drivesmeintoahurriedpace,thoughthetruthis,Ifeellikethere’smorethanwindatmyback.ThereliefIfeelwhenIenterthe lobby acompactbutmoderndesignwithlowhanginglightsthatscreamsofaluxuryhotelthekindthatsuitstheKnightbrand is momentary. I fear I would seemspoiled to anyone who didn’t really know better, but luxury is suffocating me. It’s a façade,likemybankaccountandstatusinthisfamily
Ientertheelevatorandpunchinmycode,butIdon’theadtomyone-bedroomapartmentI’veleasedthepastsixyears.Nor doItraveltothetwenty-ninthfloorwhereChancelives He’shidingoutinnearbySonomaanyway,undertheguiseofbusiness, butIknow better.Hesimplydidn’twanttoacceptthatawardtonightforourfather,almosttothepointofodd,andIwonder how muchhe knows about dad that I never knew. I shove that thought aside because I can’t lose mybrother now too, and Chance Chanceisn’tmyfather
Theelevatordingsmyarrivalatthepenthouselevel,tomyparents’floor,mymother’shomenowthatI’mtolookafterwhile she’sgone Rightnow,I’mnotsureshe’scomingback,butthen,theblowoflearningaboutMarionaftermyfatherdiedcrushed her.That’swhyI’mherenow.Idon’tknowwhatelseshemightknow,butifsheknowswhatIknow,I’mnotsureshe’dsurvive theblow I’mnotsurewhatIshoulddowithwhatIknow,butIhavetomakesurethatshedoesn’tgetthechancetofeel that pain.
The doors open directly into my parents’ home I can’t seem to think of it any other way and I step inside, lights automaticallyflickeringoninthefoyerandilluminatingthehalf-moonshapedhallwaybeforeme Anoddpricklingonmyneck hasmehuggingmyselfandturningtoensurethattheelevatorsealsshut.Withoutthecode,noonecangetinside,butintoday’s technology-drivenworld,thatelevator has always made me nervous Itis whatitis though,andIacceptit,butnotlamely I turnonthesecuritysystemandthenhurrydownaroundthecorner,darkhardwoodabsorbingmyheavysteps.
Enteringthelivingroom,Ipassthegrandpianoandcrossthroughasittingareaframedbymagnificenttoweringwindows,to haltatthedoubledoorstomyfather’soffice.MyhandsgriptheknobsbutIhesitatetoopenthedoorsandIknow why.This roomwas his private space and it’s now the tomb of his real self, evenif his bodyhas left this earth. Aself I don’t fully understand, butIthink no, Iknow thatiftonightproved anythingto me, it’s thatI’mreactingto situations, notcontrolling them.Thathastoend.Andso,Iopenthedoors,andIdivedeeperintothehellofshark-infestedwaters.
Enteringtheroom,ahintofanearthycigarscenttingestheair,acigarmyfatherenjoyedinthisveryroom,andtryasImight, Ican’tsquashthe emotions clawingatmychest. Those feelings, all the mishmashoffeelings, are here, they’re present, they aren’tgoingaway.AndsoIcarrythemwithmeasIwalktothedesksurroundedbybookshelves,shelvesfilledwitheverytype of book imaginable, books that I used to spend hours exploring, reading, loving. Hours with my father, who educated me, challengedme,lovedme.Iknowhelovedme.Ijust Idon’tknowifhedeservedmylove. Isitdownand opena drawer, pullingouta folder thatis buried deep inthe midstofmanyfiles, and Iremove the large envelopeIplantotakewithme.Inturn,justtobesafe,Igrabanaccordionfilethickwithdocuments.Shuttingthedrawer,I thendowhatIshouldn’tdohereandnow,butratherlater Iopenthefileandremovetheleatherjournalinsidewheremyfather keptallthewordshedidn’tdarespeakorregisterelectronically.MyheartstartstoraceasIflipinhuntofthepageIneedto readagain.IneedtoreviewitagainbecauseIneedtobewrongaboutwhatIthinkI’dread.That’swhyI’mhere,Irealize.Not totakecharge,buttodisprovemyownmemory
IflipsofastthatInickmyfinger,asharpsensationfollowedbybloodpooling,butIdon’tstoplookingfor whatIseek.I snagatissueandwrapmywound,myhandshakingasIstoponthepageIseek.Myeyeslandonthemiddleofneatlywritten words,words thatwere craftedwiththoughtandprecision,notrushedinanemotional frenzy Iswallow hard as Iread: We were all better off when he was dead. TheshakingovertakesmyentirebodyandIlookdowntofindbloodseepingthroughthe tissueonmyfinger
Emma
The women in my life are many, too many, but only one really matters…
Climbingoverthetopofthepapers,Iperchontheedgeofthemattressandglancedownatmyleggingsandthicktanktop anddecideI’msuitablydressed Thedoorbellringsyetagainwithadeterminedvisitor,adeliveryabuildingstaffpersonisn’t allowedtoleaveatthedoor,nodoubt.Withahuffedbreath,Icavetothefactthatwhoeverthisisisn’tgoingaway.Pushingto my feet, I cross the bedroomand bound down the stairs to the living roomthat frames my front door “Who is it?” I ask, wonderingwhattimeitis,becauseItrulyhavenoidea.
“Openup,BirdDog”
EvenifIdidn’trecognizeChance’svoice,nooneelsecallsmeBirdDog,andthankGodforit.Iunlockthedoorandopenit to find mybrother standingthere, his darkhair a rumpled mess, his sweats and T-shirttellingme thathe justcame fromhis habitualweekendrun Theonehehasn’ttakensincedaddied ThetwoStarbuckscoffeecupsinhishandstellingmewhyhe believeshecangetasaywiththatoldnickname.“Ihatewhenyoucallmethat.”
Isip the white mocha withapproval “This is the onlyreasonyougetto come in” Ibackup and head toward the living room,claimingmybigolive-coloredchairthataccentsmycream-coloredcouch.“Especiallysinceyoumademegoalonelast night”
My brow furrows He might not have been running, but he was doing something “Are you living at the gym, or what? Becauseyouhaven’tbeenlivingattheoffice,likeusual,whichisn’tabadthing.Justanobservation.”
“I am I was never really all that checked out Taking over the entire Knight operation for dad comes with a price I’m wearingatargetonmychestandIneededsometimetoassessafewthingsdadhandledonhisownbeforeIinteractedwitha numberofpeople Ihavemyplan I’mreadytomoveforward” “Whydidn’tyoujusttellmethat?”
“BecauseIdidn’twanttomakeitworsefor you.Iwantedyoutogrieveinpeace,evenifIcouldn’t.”Hiscellphonerings and he grabs it fromhis pocket “That’s Randall I’mmeeting himfor coffee to review some work I’ll be back Monday morning,andeveryonewillknowit.”Hepicksuphiscoffeeandstandsup.“Gobacktobed.It’searly.” “Howearly?”
Heopensthedoorandleaves.He’sgoneandI’malone.Idon’tknowwhythatfeelssignificantrightnow,butthen,secrets haveawayofmakingyoufeelisolated.Ialsodon’tknowwhythismakesmethinkaboutJaxNorth,orwhyIgrabmycomputer andpowerituptogooglehisname.Ipullupaphotoofhisfather,twobrothers,butthereisnoshotofhismother.Hisfather died ina skiingaccident, as he told me. His youngestbrother owns and operates a series ofcigar bars. Jaxruns the North
Whiskeybrand and does so since his brother died atonlythirty-sixyears old, butIcan’tfind anythingthattells me how he died.Thereisnothingabouthismotheratall.
Chance pulls his BMW up to the pier and two paid attendants open our doors. “I’mwith you all the way, sis,” Chance promises,givingmyarmasqueeze.YoujustmightnotknowhowdamngladIamthatyou’rewithme,too.” Thisconfessionsideswipesmedespiteourcloseness.Chanceisstrong,toostrongattimes,dogmaticabouteverythinghe’s passionate about and passionate about everything to do with the Knight brand, but death can unwind even the strongest of people.
Wesharealookthatsayswebothknowwe’reonourown momcheckedout,dadisgone butwehaveeachother,before webreakawayandexitthecar.Isteptothesidewalkandintoacoldblastofwindthatliftsmyhairfrommyneck,shootinga chill downmyspine.Ipull myvelvetjacketuparoundtheblacklaceknee-lengthdressI’mwearing,decidingmythigh-high tightsandknee-highbootsmightnotbeformal,buttheyweresmartchoices SanFranciscoischillynomatterwhatthetimeof the year, everyinchgustingwithoceanwaters; but evenmore so this close to the water that onlya monthbefore hosted a goodbyetomyfather
Chance joins me, lookinghandsome as usual ina tuxedo and Iswear it’s as ifRandall has radar onus. We haven’teven startedwalkingtowardtheboatwhenhe’sjoiningus,hiseyesonme “Youlooklovely,Emma,butthenyoualwaysdo”
“Spokenlikeamantryingtomakeupforbeingacompletejerklastnight,”Isay,“butthankyounonetheless.” Chance laughs. “That puts things into perspective now, doesn’t it? Do you have something more direct to say to her, Randall?”
I’mlisteningtohertellastorywhenawarenessgrabsme,mygazeliftingandscanningforasource.Myeyescutthrougha gapbetweenbodiestocollidewiththatofthemanstandingattherailingsomedistanceaway.Ijoltwithawareness,myheart instantlyskippingabeat. Jax. Jaxishereandnotonlyistheboatsuddenlywarmer,Ideciderightthenthattheonlypersonon planetearththatlooksbetterinatuxthanmybrotheristhisman IhavetoforcemyselftorememberthatheandRandallhadan interactionthatmade me questionhis agenda. Ihave to force myselfto remember thatthere is a price for beingvulnerable whichI’velearnedthehardway,toohardtoforgetnow
“I’mtheonewhodoespropertydevelopment Whydon’tIknowaboutthis?”Myguttwists “Nevermind Iknowwhy He didn’ttrustme.”
“He didn’ttrustme either. This was some personal thingto him. Iwantto know whybutwe never will. Hell, I’d like to makethishappen,indad’shonor,youknow?”
“Whydidn’tyoutalktomeaboutthis?”
“Ihaven’tgivenitalotofthoughtuntil now Itriedtocall Jaxandheblew meoff Maybeyoucantalktohim Maybewe couldmakethishappenindad’smemory.”
I’mnotbigonanythingtohonordad’smemory,butthat’snotwheremyheadisrightnow.Suddenly,Jaxisn’ttheonewho wants somethingfromme. We’re the ones who wantsomethingfromJaxand Inow wonder ifI’d considered the Norths as sourcematerialformydad’sjournalforareason.IstheresomethingIknowthatIdon’trealizeIknoworsomethingIreadthat triggeredthatthought?“Emma?”
IblinkChancebackintoview.“Sorry.Iftheopportunityarises,I’lltalktoJax,butRandallreallypissedhimofflastnight.” And I blew himoff with the assumption that he was the one with the agenda “Talk to your pretty blonde You don’t date enough.Ilikeher.”
AplanthatworkswellrightupuntilIwalkstraightintoMarion’spath She’sinasilver,low-cutgownI’mcertainmyfather wouldappreciateandhiswordsplayinmyhead: The women in my life are many, too many, but only one really matters. I wonderifshe’stheonewhomattered?
“Thereyouare,”shegreets.“Ineedtoruntochatwithaclient,butIhaveasurpriseforyou.”Shesqueezesmyarm.“I’ll find youina few minutes.” She steps awayfromme and unease rolls throughme, a forebodingsensationthat might be me workingmyselfupoverthejournal Ormaybeit’sthejournalmakingmeawareofjusthowgoodthiswomandoesbad MyheartisracingandIyankmycoattighteraroundme,hurryingdownthesteps.Awaiterpasseswithglassesofchampagne I’d passed onearlier Iacceptone, downit, and offer himmyglass, whichIreplace witha full glass Ithenwalkstraight throughthecrowdandexittotheoutdoorbalcony,whichthecoldnighthasleftempty,andtheboatisn’tevenmoving.Good.I needthealonetimewhenironically,I’dhatedbeingalonejustthismorning
“How disappointing,” he says,andwe turninunison,facingeachother,eachwithanelbow onthe railing.He’s close,so much closer than I’d realized, the scent of his musky, earthy cologne lifting in the ocean breeze, teasing my senses Those intelligentblue eyes piercing. “Because ifyoudidn’texpectme,” he adds, “thenyoumustbe invitingsomeone else to take advantageofyou”
HethinksI’mbeautifulandIcan’tdenymypleasureatthisconfession,onlywithhimit’snotaconfession,Iremindmyself He’sconfidentinwhoheisandsureabouthisthoughtsanddesires.Somehow thatmakeshisdeclarationofmybeautymean more thanitwould fromsomeone else. “Because I’ve knownRandall for years. Myfather treated himlike a sonand yethe didn’tinherit.”
“There’saproblemwithoneoftheshipments.CanIseeyou,please?” “Idonatedthebartonight,”hesaystome.“I’llbringyoubackatasteofsomethingNorth.” Ilaughatthedoubleentendrethatclearlyreferencesmydrinkandhim,turningbacktotherailingwiththefirstrealsmileon mylips ina month No No,ifI’mhonestwithmyself,it’s beenfar longer Iknew there was somethingoffwithmyfather I knew for a longtime and Inever spoke up. Mymind travels backintime, tryingto find the momentI’d connected withthat idea,weedingthroughmomentsuntilthere’sashiftintheenergybehindme Ismile atthe idea ofJaxre-joiningme,buta clawingsensationrushes over me justbefore he steps tomyside,andsays, “Hello,Emma.”
ThisisnotJax IknowthisevenbeforeIwhirlaroundtoface him He’sMarion’ssurprise He’smynightmare
Emma
He’sthereasonIdon’tbelieveinkarmabecausehenevergetshis.Ido.YorkWatersisabillionaire,theheirapparenttothe Waters’yachtandboatempire,formostofthetimeIknewhim.He’snowinheriteditall.He’salsomyex-fiancé.Aman whoistall,darkandgoodlookingpersonified.Amanofpowerandmoney.AmanwhoknowsmoreaboutmethanIwantto know aboutmyself He is everymistake Ihave ever made He is the secrets Ikeep He is arrogant, and as Ihave learned, dangerous.
“AndItoldyou,Iwantedtocheckonyou.” He steps tome againandthis time,Idon’tbackaway.He’s close,tooclose, whenJaxcouldn’tbecloseenough “Nooneknows youlikeIknow you I’myour safeplace I’mtheonewhoknows all of yoursecrets.I’vealwayskeptthembetweenus.I’vealwaysprotectedyouandyourfamily.”
AtJax’svoice,Ijolt,andinstinctivelyrotatetofindhimstandingjustinsidethepatio,whileYorkdoesthesame “JaxNorth,”Yorksays.“How thehell haveyoubeen?”It’s afamiliar greetingthatgives mepauseandreminds meofthe similarities ofmyconversations witheachman, the reference to me running Are theyfriends? Is this all justone ofYork’s headgames?
Anysecond,IexpectJaxwilljoinus.Theywillcrowdme.Theywillplaythegameofpowerandsubmission,butthat’snot whathappens. Yorkcrosses to greetJax, butanyreliefIfeel bythe distance quicklyfades withthe familiar waythese two interact.Maybethisisn’tagame,butifthesetwoarefriends,IknowmoreaboutJaxthanIeverwantedtoknow.
ThetwomenshakehandsandItellmyselfthisformalgreetingdefiestruefriendship,butI’mtoosoonoffmyfather’sdeath, too clear on his sins, thanks to that journal, to risk being cornered. Acluster of a good six people joins us outside and I embrace the opportunitythis presents Ina rushof fancydresses and tuxedos, I find easypassage, slippingbackinside the yacht.Oncethere,withsurefooting,Icutthroughthecrowdandmakemywaytothetopdeck.ScanningthecrowdforChance, hopingtoavoidhimsoasnottogiveYorkachancetousemybrotheragainstme,Ifail.
Chancestepsinfrontofme “Thereyouare How’ditgo?”
“Yorkishere,”Isay,adetailthathe’llunderstandisawkwardforme,despitethefactthatthetwoofthemareoldcollege buddies and still golf on occasion. They wouldn’t if Chance knew what I know about York, but I can’t tell him without exposingapieceofmethatIdon’twantexposed “BetweenhimtonightandRandalllastnight,Ineedthattimeout,Chance I’m goingtocatchanUber.”
IturntomyleftandfindJax’slong,lean,muscularbodysteppingoutoftherearofanSUV,thekindofSUVcarservicesuse. His jacketis gone.His tie loose.His sleeves rolleduptothe elbows,exposingmuscular forearms,anda tattooonhis right forearmthatIcan’tbegintomakeout AllIknowrightnowisthathe’shere He’snotontheyachtwithYork,colludingwith the enemy. Despite how muchIwantthis to matter, itmeans nothingreally. This could all be partofa bigger planand I’m suddenlyangry,playedwith,andemotional Ilearnedalongtimeagothatemotionsarebad Emotionscutyoumorethanthe personwhocreatedthem.
Nevertheless,that’s where I’matcomingoffa monthofgriefandconfusion.Isnap.“How are youevenhere?” Idemand, closingsomeofthespacebetweenus.
EverywarningthatYorkstirredinmeearlierfadesawaywiththetasteofthismanonmylips,everywarningisimmediately reasonedaway.This is onenightandthenJaxis gone.This is anescape.Deathand griefallow me permissionto needthis. Thatdamnjournalgivesmepermissiontoneedhim.I’mgoingtodothis.
His eyes warm, approval and satisfactionintheir depths thatsomehow isn’tarrogant. He laces his fingers withmine and walksbackward,guidingmetothedooroftheSUV Andthenhedoessomethingunexpected Hestepsasideandmotionsme toward the backdoors, a silent invitationto enter or walkaway, to make myowndecision. I climb inside, lettingthe soft leatherabsorbmybody,awillingvictim,ashe’dwanted
