not sure. The funeral will have to be arranged, and then there is Hannah....”
“What about her?”
“Allan and I are her godparents. I agreed to it because Patti asked. But I’m not good with babies. You both know this. I’m just—” Jessi abruptly stopped talking. She wasn’t going to admit to her sisters that she had no idea what to do next. For only the second time in her life she was lost. Lost. It was a place she’d vowed to never let herself be again.
Emma wrapped her arms around her again and for a minute Jessi was seven and her big sister’s hug could fix all her problems. She hugged her sister back and took comfort from her before gathering herself and stepping away.
“I’m okay.”
Cari looked skeptical, but was too nice to say anything. Emma just watched her, and finally Jessi turned on her heel and walked toward her bedroom. She could tell one of her sisters was following her, but didn’t turn around to see who. If it was Cari, that would be fine. Cari would just accept whatever Jessi said and leave it be. But Em. Em had seen her share of heartbreak and had dealt with grief when she’d lost her young husband. Emma would be harder to keep her true feelings from.
“What bag are you taking?” Cari asked as she entered the bedroom without D.J.
Jessi breathed a sigh of relief and pretended it wasn’t tinged with disappointment. She could have used a little of Emma’s meddling right now. Something to rebel against instead of Cari’s kindness.
“I don’t know how long we’ll be gone,” Jessi said. “I need to leave some notes for my assistant, Marcel. My job is still on the line.”
“Even Kell can’t be that heartless. He’ll give you some more time,” Cari said. “I’ll talk to him about it.”
She nodded at her sister, but at this moment was too numb to get worked up about it. Patti was dead. That dominated every thought Jessi had.
“How about if I pack for you,” Cari said. “You go talk to Marcel. Get everything sorted out before you leave.”
“Thanks, Cari.”
Her pretty blonde sister looked as if she was going to cry. For a minute, as Jessi gazed at her, with her neat preppy skirt, her tucked-in blouse and her hair in that high ponytail, she envied her. Cari had seen some rough times—giving birth to her son on her own after the father had abandoned her—but she’d found her own strength. That was what Jessi needed right now.
Work wasn’t a solace for her the way that it had been for Emma when her husband died. And Jessi’s personal life... Well, without Patti she didn’t know what she was going to do.
She left her bedroom without another word, avoiding the living room, where she heard Emma talking to Sam and D.J. After listening a moment, Jessi made her way to her home office.
It was decorated with sleek modern furniture in bright primary colors. She sat down on her desk chair and opened her laptop to start sending emails.
As her system loaded messages and sorted them into different folders, she noticed the file labeled Patti had a new message. For some reason it hadn’t downloaded to her phone, maybe because she’d turned off email during her meeting at the Playtone offices earlier in the day. As she reached for her phone and adjusted the settings, she started to cry. This would be the last message from Patti.
Jessi looked back at her laptop screen and hovered the cursor over the folder, afraid to open it. But after taking a deep breath, she clicked her mouse and read the email.
Can’t wait to see you in two weeks. Here’s a quick picture of Hannah. She’s teething and that means her first tooth! And you, dear godmother, have to buy her a pair of shoes—according to my great-aunt Berthe. Hope everything is ok at work. I just know that you will figure it all out. Call me later.
Take care,
Patti
A photo of Hannah’s little face filled the bottom of the screen. She had her fist in her mouth, there was a drool on her lips and she looked out from the picture with Patti’s eyes. Jessi’s heart clenched and her stomach roiled as she realized that her dear friend wasn’t going to see that first tooth come in.
Since her door was closed and no one could witness it, she leaned her head on the desk and let herself cry.
* * *
As the plane lifted off, Allan watched Jessi put her earbuds in and turn away from him toward the window. To say that she wasn’t herself was an absolute understatement. The woman who’d always irritated him was positively subdued. A shadow of her normal self. He saw her wipe away a tear in the reflection from the glass.
He knew it was none of his business. He owed Jessi next to nothing, and she was entitled to her grief. In fact, he understood completely how she felt, but a part of him wanted to needle her. Wanted to jar her and force her out of her funk so she could irritate him and he’d be able to forget. The last thing he wanted to do was spend a cross-country flight with his own thoughts.
Not right now when he was wondering why a confirmed bachelor was still alive and a family man with everything to live for was dead. God knew that Allan wasn’t religious, and something like this just reinforced his belief that there definitely wasn’t a higher force in the world. There was no fairness to John dying when he had so much to live for.
Allan looked around the cabin. He’d bought the G6 jet when Playtone had signed their first multibillion-dollar contract, and he didn’t regret it. If there was one thing he prized in this life it was his own comfort. The cream-colored leather chairs had more than enough room for him to stretch out his six-foot, five-inch frame. He did so now, deliberately knocking over Jessi’s expensive-looking leather bag in the process.
She glanced at him with one eyebrow arched and picked up the bag without removing her earbuds. She leaned her head back against the seat and a lock of her short ebony hair slid down over her eye. He had touched her hair once. It was cool and soft. He’d tangled his hand in it as he’d kissed her at John and Patti’s wedding, behind the balustrade, out of the way of prying eyes.
Like everything between the two of them, he’d meant the kiss to be a game of one-upmanship, to shock her, but it hadn’t worked. It had rocked him to his foundations, because there’d been a spark of something more in that one kiss. How was it that his archnemesis could turn him on like no other woman could?
He nudged her bag and she took her earbuds off as she turned to him and stared. Her gaze was glacial, as if he wasn’t worth her attention.
“What’s your problem?” she asked.
“Can’t get comfortable,” he said.
She glanced around at the six other empty seats before turning her chocolate-brown eyes back at him. “Really? Looks like you could stretch out and not bother me if you wanted to. So I ask again, what’s your problem?”
“Maybe I want to bother you.”
“Of course you do. What’s the matter, Allan, finally found the one thing your money can’t buy?” she asked.
“And what would that be?” he retorted. In his experience there wasn’t much money couldn’t afford him.
