“You can tell him to stop climbing around if you want. Otherwise, he won’t stop,” I say.
Leo’s attention falls to me, he presses a button on his keys, and the car starts. Oliver grins and laughs as the music begins to play.
“He’s fine. He seems like a good kid.”
“He’s the best,” I say, smiling. “And smart. So far, he’s excelling in his reading and already writes his name.”
Leo smiles proudly. He looks back to Oliver, then speaks, “Look, I was wondering if I could speak to you … once he’s done.”
“Oliver needs to bathe and get ready for the night anyway. You can come in and have a coffee if you want?” I walk to the car and call Oliver out. He comes without argument, and we head toward the door. Unlocking it and turning on the lights, I tell Oliver to go have a shower. He runs off to get himself ready as I walk to the kitchen with Leo following close behind me.
“I’m just going to say it …” he pauses. “Anderson gets out on good behavior soon. I don’t have an exact date, but I found out today and thought I should tell you.”
“Mom, I can’t find my towel.” Oliver runs up behind me, and my hand falls to my heart as I turn around and smile at my son, who does look a lot like his father.
“It’s on your bed where you left it,” I tell him, and he nods and runs off.
When I turn back around, Leo is seated at the table, his hands folded in front of him.
“He also asked me about Oliver. I haven’t said anything regarding him.”
“Thank you,” I say, flustered.
I open the fridge.
Then shut it.
What was I even going in there for?
“I’m going to go,” Leo says, standing. “I’m sorry for bringing this bad news to you, but you needed to know.” He heads to the front door and I follow him, walking him out. “If you open up any one of those letters, my number is on every single one. If you need anything, babysitter, money, new car—” I cut him off.
“Car?” I ask.
“Seems he loves mine. Would you like it?”
“Are you seriously offering me your car?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yes,” he replies without hesitation.
Does he not understand that is not normal? People do not go around offering cars that are worth more than the house I’m living in.
“No. No, thank you. Ours gets us from A to B. It will do us just fine.”
“Jacinta, you’ve done everything by yourself. Not once have you accepted money from us …” he pauses, “… but you should. He may be a shit person, but he is Oliver’s father, and I am his father. Let me help when you need help … that’s all I ask.”
All I can do is nod at his words.
He leaves with no more words spoken.
Chapter 9
Beckham
I keep to my word. The only time I speak with Jacinta is when it has to do with work.
She stays.
I knew she would.
The money I pay my assistant is better than the highest-paid assistant anywhere else. But I also do this because I know I am an ass to work for. And the money keeps them around a little longer.
The world spins on money. I should know, it’s my job.
“Are you prepared for your week?” I ask on the way back into my office, stopping at Jacinta’s desk before I go into mine.
She lifts her head and bites her lip. “Yes, I think so.”
Every year, Rylee and I go away to a conference and dazzle our biggest clients. It’s a thank you, and this year Rylee isn’t able to attend, so Jacinta is filling in for her.
“Either you are, or you aren’t,” I bite back.
“I am. Tickets are printed. The car will pick you up at six.”
“Get the car to collect you first,” I tell her and walk off to my office. When I enter, Rylee is sitting in my chair, swinging around on it like it’s her favorite damn toy. “Get out,” I say, but she continues to swing around again, then she flips me off.
“Why do you have such a great seat? Get me one, too,” she says, not moving from my chair.
“It’s late, and I have to finish a few emails before I leave. So get the fuck out of my seat.”
“How about … no.” She smiles. “Now, make sure you order me one.”
“If I say I will order you one, will you get out of my seat?”
“If you pinkie promise,” she teases.
“Fucking hell, Rylee, dealing with a five-year-old is easier than dealing with you,” I spit.
She pokes her tongue out and stands. “You better order me one, asshole.”
I stride around my desk and sit before she decides to annoy me further by stealing my chair again. “Why are you here?” I start my computer.
“I came to warn you.”
My head spins in her direction. “Warn me?”
Rylee leans over my desk, so her eyes are at the same level as mine as she stares at me. “If you fuck this up by being an asshole, I will kick you where I know it will hurt the most.”
She straightens and smiles.
So sweet, yet so sour.
Without giving me a backward glance, she saunters off out the door.
The driver pulls up to my apartment building, and I am already out front, suitcase on the ground, as the back door opens and Jacinta steps out, dressed in more casual attire than her regular work outfits.
“Good afternoon, sir. You ready?”
“I am.” I climb in as the driver grabs my suitcase.
When we’re seated and the car finally starts for the airport, we settle into a nice silence.
“Adam and James will be attending, and I want you to wine and dine them when necessary.” Jacinta nods. “They are our biggest clients. So, nothing can go wrong with them.”
“Got it.”
“Also, villas … I will make sure yours is close to mine, so if I need to reach you, you’re close by. And James and Adam will also be near ours.”
“Sounds good,” she says, writing away in her notebook.
“And how are you going to handle this trip? Are you fully organized with your son?”
She pauses writing and places her pen in the notebook and shuts it. When she turns to me, her hazel eyes are warm. “Yes, thank you. He is well looked after by your sister and August. Oliver is familiar with August, and he loves Winter and Rylee, so I am lucky, as I have no family.”
I nod.
Not too much later, the car comes to a stop at the airport. We grab our suitcases and check-in. I purchased both business class tickets, as the flight is just over an hour to the island we are heading to.
“You didn’t have to. I’m more than happy to not fly business.”
“Everyone who’s coming is flying business,” I reply as I step along the jet bridge to the aircraft. She takes a seat next to me, and the flight attendant serves us a glass of champagne.
“I’ve never been on a plane,” she whispers after a few moments of silence, and the plane takes off.
“What?” I say, surprised. “How is that even possible?”
“I’ve never left Australia. And I only left the city when I moved away five years ago, but even then, I drove.”