Brides, Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters
said suddenly hit him.
“A daughter?”
“Yes,” she said, and clutched her fingers around the handle of her bag. “It’s a girl. And I wanted you to know.”
“Thanks for that...”
“I didn’t do it to be nice, Jack,” she said, interrupting him. “I came here to tell you that I’m not running away. I’m not you. I don’t hide.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“Call it whatever you want to,” she said, voice tight. “It amounts to the same thing.”
Sunlight spilled into the office through the wide windows, lying in long, golden rectangles across the floor. Rita stood in one of those slices of light and it was as if she were glowing from the inside. Even the ends of her hair shone, and the sunlight was reflected in her whiskey eyes, making them look as if they were on fire.
“You’re upset, I know,” he started.
“Damn right I’m upset, Jack.” She stopped, took a long breath and steadied herself. “But I didn’t come here to get into another futile argument, either.”
Still holding the envelope he wanted very badly to open, he asked, “Why are you here, then?”
“To tell you that I’m staying. Our daughter will be raised by me, in the apartment over the bakery. I’ll tell her all about you, but you’re not going to be a part of our lives, Jack.”
“You can’t keep her from me.”
“Watch me,” Rita countered. “You don’t want her or me. You just want to do what you think is the ‘right’ thing. Well, I don’t care about that. My daughter’s going to grow up loved. Happy. And if her father isn’t willing to give up his self-pity party long enough to be grateful to be alive, then he just won’t be a part of our lives.”
“Self-pity?” He repeated the words because they’d slapped him hard enough to make an impact. Was that who he was? Who he’d become? Was she right? “That’s what you think?”
“Jack,” she sighed out his name. “If you ever manage to work your way out of that cocoon you’ve wrapped yourself in long enough to realize you love me, let me know. Until then? Goodbye, Jack.”
He looked up as Rita turned around, stormed across the room and out the door, slamming it behind her.
* * *
Jack fell asleep that night, still holding the ultrasound picture he couldn’t get out of his head. A daughter. A little girl. Torn between desire and caution, he wasn’t sure which move to make. And then the dream came.
It was hot. So hot every breath seared his lungs. He squinted into the too-bright sunlight and signaled to his men for quiet as they approached the village.
Shots were fired. Explosions rocked all around them, making his ears ring. Someone screamed and another shot fired and Jack was down. Pain burst in a hot ball in the center of his chest. Air caught in his lungs, refusing to move in or out. Jack stared up at a brassy sky, the sun beating down mercilessly and he knew he was dying.
But this wasn’t how it happened. The dream was wrong.
Then Kevin was there, leaning over him. Jack looked up at his friend. “I’m hit. I’m hit bad.”
“Yeah, dude. It doesn’t look good.”
“But this is wrong. You were wounded, not me.” Jack breathed past the pain, felt it sliding through his body. “Help me, Kev. Do something. I did it for you.”
“Yeah, you did.” Kevin grinned and was suddenly in a wheelchair. “And I appreciate it. Wish I could help you now, bro. But it’s all on you.”
None of this made sense. Jack looked around. The sand. The sun. The men. Everything was the way it always was in his dream. Well, except for Kevin, grinning like a moron at him from a chair.
“What’s so funny? Do something, damn it!”
“Nothing I can do, dude,” Kevin assured him. “It’s a heart shot. You’re done for. There’s no hope.”
Panic roared through him followed by fury. Damned if he’d end like this. “What the hell kind of help is that? Call a medic. Slap a bandage on my chest.”
“Hearts can’t be healed with a damn bandage, man. You’re way past that.”
Fear and fury were a tangled knot inside him. “Then what do I do?”
“You already know that, Jack,” Kevin said. “You’re not shot, man. Your heart’s broken and the only way to fix it is to find Rita and make this right. It’s as good as over for you.”
Reaching down, he held out one hand and waited for Jack to take it. Then Kevin pulled him to his feet and slapped Jack on the back. “The only way out is Rita.”
“Rita.” Jack looked down at his chest. He wasn’t bleeding. He was healthy enough. He was just...lost. Lifting his head, he glanced around. The dream had changed. The desert was gone.
He was on the beach, the roar of the sea pounding in his brain. And there was Rita, standing at the shoreline as she had been on the first night he’d seen her. And just like that, Jack knew Kevin was right. He felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest. It was over for him.
It had been over from the first moment he’d seen her.
Just the memory of her was strong enough to tear down the dream that had been haunting him for months. Rita had drawn him out, with the help of an old friend.
But when he turned to thank Kevin, the man was gone. Looking back down the beach, he saw Rita, holding a baby girl with dark brown curls and bright eyes. He started toward them just as Rita smiled. Then slowly, she and the baby faded until they finally disappeared completely. When he stood alone on the darkened beach, pain hit him like a fist.
Fix this, he told himself, or lose everything.
Jack woke with a start and sat straight up in bed. His mind racing, heart pounding, he realized so many truths at once, he was breathless. Maybe it made sense that the lesson he needed to learn had come from Kevin. He’d think about that later. Right now, he knew what he had to do, so he lunged for his cell phone on the bedside table. He punched in a familiar number and waited interminably as it rang on the other end.
“Dad? Yeah, it’s me, Jack.” He walked out onto the terrace, into the teeth of the wind and had never felt warmer in his life.
“Jack? Are you all right?” his father asked. “What time is it?”
He winced and glanced at the clock. Two o’clock. He rubbed his eyes and laughed shortly. Taking a deep breath, Jack realized that for the first time in months, he didn’t have a cold stone in his belly. In fact, he felt pretty good.
“Weirdly enough,” he said, “I think I am all right. Or I will be. I’m sorry it’s so late, but look. I need you to do something for me.”
“So have you thought of a name for her yet?”
Rita looked at her bakery manager and shook her head. “No, but I have plenty of time.”
“Yeah, you do. But just remember, Casey’s a great name for a girl.”
Laughing, Rita slid the tray of cookies into the oven. It was good to be home. She’d needed that visit to her family, but being here was what felt right. Back in her apartment over the bakery, doing familiar work with people she loved, it was all good.
Sure, she missed Jack desperately, and there was an ache around her heart that she was really afraid would be permanent. But she would learn to live with it. Learn to live without him, because