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
