decided yet. He said he’s coming out to LA. We’ll talk then.”
“You cannot work for that man!” Addie’s voice carried over the car’s roof.
“Like hell,” Wyatt barked in the same instant.
Jason’s hackles rose. “Addie, Wyatt, back off.” He slammed the trunk. “I’m not a child. He’ll come to the office, I’ll deal with him there. End of story.”
“I don’t trust him.”
Jason laughed. “If you knew most of my clients, you wouldn’t trust them, either.” He thought of the business partners who inhabited the corner offices and the upper floors. Wasn’t much trust there, either. They were as cold-blooded as Pal. He turned to face his older brother, purposefully changing the subject. “It’s been a good visit. You tell the others your news?”
Wyatt shook his head. “Emily doesn’t want to say anything yet. She’s—”
“No problem.” Jason smiled. “But you’d better tell them all at once. Word gets around in this family like wildfire.”
“Yeah.” Wyatt looked over at Emily, a smile tugging on his lips. Jason knew that look, that silent communication from when they’d been kids. “Hey, everyone.”
Emily obviously knew her new husband, too. Her eyebrows lifted as she shrugged and smiled, walking toward Wyatt. “You want to? Now?” she whispered.
“Yeah.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against his side. “We have news.” A gasp waved around the group gathered between the cars.
“We got married!” Emily practically burst with the words. Jason laughed. Neither one of them had really wanted to keep this secret. And he was relieved to find the attention focused elsewhere. Now he didn’t have to explain his business with Pal.
This was a much better way to end this visit.
GROWING UP IN TEXAS, Jason’s experience with dancing involved square dances, country bars and prom—oh, and those not-to-be-forgotten weddings. Since moving to LA, his horizons hadn’t broadened much. Hours behind his desk, busting his ass to make partner, kept him busy.
Seated now in a private box at Glendale’s Alex Theatre, watching the Los Angeles Ballet with Pal Haymaker, he felt strange. Jason glanced sideways at the old man. How the hell had they gotten here?
After he’d seen Pal that morning following DJ’s wedding, Jason would have laid money down that the old guy wouldn’t be able to make the trip. But that had been several days ago, and here he was. Cleaned up, in a custom-tailored suit, Pal looked every bit as out of place as Jason felt.
The lights dimmed, and the old guy pushed to the edge of his seat. The oxygen tubing rubbing against the arm of the wheelchair was loud in the silence that fell as the curtain rose. No one else seemed to notice, so Jason breathed a sigh of relief.
The music began, and a line of ballerinas came on the stage. Jason leaned back in his seat, hoping to find something to enjoy about the event.
“There she is!” Haymaker said loudly and Jason cringed. The music, thankfully, mostly covered his voice.
“Who?” Jason asked.
“My daughter.”
“Who?” It was a reaction more than a question. Jason stared at the man he’d known most of his life, a man who’d been Texas’s biggest pain in the ass for years. He had a son, well into his fifties, and a grandson who’d run around with Jason’s older brothers back in high school. Other than Mrs. Haymaker, there hadn’t been any other women in that equation, unless you counted housekeepers.
“You didn’t think I had it in me.” Pal chuckled and dissolved into a fit of coughing. The nurse appeared out of the shadows with a cup of water and a little white pill. The old man waved her away and turned his rapt attention back to the performance.
“See her there?” He pointed toward the left side of the stage, his arm trembling. “The redhead, like her mama. Second from the end.” More coughing. He took the pill.
Jason looked. All the women were dressed identically in white toe shoes, tights and leotards. White gauzy tutus circled each slim waistline. A white band of fabric scraped their hair away from their faces, and the only color difference between them was the thick coil of hair at the nape of their necks. He saw a strawberry blonde. He’d never recognize her, or any of the other matching ballerinas, if they passed on the street.
“Next act,” the old man wheezed. “Solo.”
“Are you sure you’re up to this?”
The old man didn’t look good, but the glare Jason received was as strong as ever. Haymaker sat back, watching, waiting. For the woman he believed was his daughter.
As Pal struggled to breathe, Jason struggled with the ramifications. Pal had two heirs as far as anyone knew. His physical condition was quickly declining. The prognosis, according to the doctors, was not good.
The reason Jason was here with Pal tonight had apparently just appeared. On Monday, when Pal had shown up at Jason’s office, he’d demanded Jason’s attendance here tonight. Jason had agreed just to get the old man out of the office before he keeled over.
Pal wasn’t one to leave anything undone. A carryover from all those years on the Texas prairie, building the Double Diamond Ranch into one of the biggest operations in the country. Out on the range, unfinished work could mean life or death.
Pal quieted and, for a minute, Jason thought he’d fallen asleep. He hadn’t though. His eyes were as alert as ever, drinking in every instant the young woman was on stage.
Just as he’d said, in the second act, she came out into the spotlight alone. This time, she wore a black leotard, tights and toe shoes. No tutu, just a wispy, diaphanous skirt that formed to her hips. Her hair, though, was what caught Jason’s gaze. Long light copper curls hung down to around her hips, swaying with every move.
Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight. He knew that if he saw her on the street, he’d definitely recognize her, and probably stop and stare. She was stunning. The dance beautiful—flawless as far as he could tell.
Time stopped. Haymaker faded into the distance. Nothing existed except her beauty and perfection. Music wafted around him, slipping inside somehow. He felt his heart echo its rhythm. Beating. Stopping. Pounding.
The emotions of the story came to life. Anger and pain ripped across the stage and tumbled into an anguished heap in the center of the floor. A single light remained. She didn’t move. He barely breathed.
Arms, a multitude of bare arms, reached out of the darkness and lifted her limp body. Her limbs dangled lifelessly as the darkness swallowed her whole.
Jason’s eyes stung, and he shook his head to clear his mind of the image and emotions. He looked over at the old man. Tears trickled down his pale cheeks.
The audience shot to their feet.
