So, Christian told me you’re in PR?”
Glad for a respite of talking about her now tangled family ties, Erica said, “Yes, and apparently that’s what I’ll be doing here, too.”
“That means working with Trevor. You’ll like him. Easygoing, hard to ruffle,” Melissa said, “unlike the rest of the bunch.”
“I met Guy this afternoon.”
“How’d that go?”
“Cool, but polite.”
“That sounds about right,” Melissa told her. “Of the twins, Guy’s more reasonable. Blake not so much. But he’ll come around. Just don’t let him scare you off.”
That didn’t sound promising, Erica thought, now even more reluctant than ever to meet Blake Jarrod. But there would be no way to avoid it and now, knowing for sure that he was going to be less than welcoming, it gave her a chance to prepare. To be ready to stand up for herself as she’d had to do most of her life.
“I’m here and I’m not leaving,” Erica told her. “If Blake’s unhappy with that, he’ll just have to get over it.”
“Good for you!” Melissa grinned at her, obviously pleased at her new sister’s inner strength.
If only she knew, Erica thought, that right now, her strength was little more than a carefully constructed front. Inside, she was quavering. But she, too, would get over it.
“Now then,” Melissa was saying, “there’s Gavin to deal with, too. He’s sort of shut-off emotionally, so probably won’t be much trouble. But good luck getting a smile out of him.”
“He sounds a lot like my older brothers.”
“That’s right. Christian told me that you’re the only girl in your family, too. What do your brothers think of you being here?”
“They tried to talk me out of it—as did my fa—” she caught herself and amended what she had been going to say. “Walter.”
Melissa reached out and patted her hand, sending her a commiserating smile at the same time. “It’s going to get confusing with all of the fathers around here, isn’t it?”
“I suppose.”
“Look, my dad may have been your biological father, but Walter’s still the man who raised you,” Melissa said softly.
“I know, it’s just …” How to explain her need to stand alone, to find answers? To live with the feelings of guilt and betrayal she had for turning her back on Walter, despite the fact that she’d never really felt any real warmth from him?
“So, are you and Walter close?”
“No,” she answered quietly, wishing she could say otherwise. “How about you and your dad?”
Melissa sighed and shook her head. “No. I was two when my mother died and my father didn’t really know what to do with me, I guess. So he did nothing.” She smiled ruefully. “I know how it sounds, poor little rich girl. The truth is though, Erica, you got the better end of this bargain. You weren’t raised here.”
“At least you had this place,” Erica told her. “It’s so beautiful here.”
“A golden jail is still a cell.” A long moment of silence passed during which Erica didn’t have a clue what to say or do. She’d have liked to offer her sister comfort, but wasn’t at all sure it would be welcome. Besides, she knew all too well that sympathy didn’t always salve ancient hurts. Sometimes it only made it worse. So she kept quiet and waited until Melissa came out of her musings herself.
“Anyway, ancient history for both of us, right? Moving on. So, PR girl … what do you think about helping me design a new menu of services for the spa?” She grabbed the old one off the coffee table and glared at it. “This one is so generic it’s tired. I’d like something splashy. Something bright. Oh, and something about the yoga classes I’m going to be teaching. Do you do yoga?”
Erica laughed at the rapid-fire statements, grateful that they’d left the subject of their fathers and sad, lonely childhoods behind. Shaking her head, she said, “Yoga? No thanks. I’m just not that bendy. But I’d love to work up a new brochure with you. If I have time with the food and wine gala preparations …”
“Oh, yeah.” Melissa sighed in disgust. “True. Okay, once you get that going, then we’ll tend to my little slice of Jarrod Ridge.”
“Sounds good.”
“So,” Melissa said, and lifted her wineglass in a toast. “Here’s to us. Sisters by birth, friends by choice.”
“Here’s to us,” Erica said and clinked her glass against the rim of Melissa’s. She could only hope that the remaining meetings with her siblings would go even half so well.
The next morning, Gavin walked into the Manor to meet Erica Prentice in Christian’s office.
Sister?
Not as far as he was concerned. She was a stranger who shared a little Jarrod DNA. Logically, he knew that she, too, was being manipulated from the grave by Don Jarrod. But it didn’t make her being here all right.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about this new sister taking up a place at Jarrod Ridge. Hell, he wasn’t even happy about having to be there himself. But for him it was different. The Manor was filled with memories, good and bad. He felt his father’s presence everywhere in the old building and knew that wherever Don was now, the old man was enjoying watching his children wrestle with the terms of his will.
“Just like him,” Gavin muttered as he walked through the crowded lobby, discounting the low roar of dozens of voices locked in conversations. He continued on along the hall toward Christian’s office, resenting the fact that he was here at all. He’d made a life apart from the Ridge and his father had known it. But then, he thought, that would have been half the fun for Don. Upsetting his children’s plans to ensure that his own worked out as he wanted.
“Nothing Don liked better than stirring things up and seems like he’s done a great job of it this time,” he told himself.
He’d already talked to Guy and Melissa about their new sister and while Guy was withholding judgment, Melissa had, of course, come down on Erica’s side. Though he appreciated the input, Gavin would make up his own mind and he believed firmly in not putting off what could get done today.
Unlike Blake. He knew damn well that Blake had left for Vegas deliberately this time, not wanting to be at the Manor when Erica arrived. As for Trevor, well, he was supposed to be here this morning but he’d do whatever felt right for him at the moment.
As if his thoughts had conjured him out of thin air, Gavin’s youngest brother pushed away from a wall and lifted one hand in greeting.
“Wasn’t sure you’d come in,” Trevor said.
“I told you I’d be here.”
