Page 49 of On the Fly
“Hey, girl. How’s Sacramento treating you?” Cara’s greeting made her smile, then wince in equal measure.
“I’m actually on my way home. I decided to drive back, so it’ll be a while, but I’m in New Mexico already.” She hadn’t considered what she’d say to her friend when she inevitably asked about Ander. Why had she not thought that through before dialing?
Silence hung in the air for a bit before Cara let out a breath and said, “What happened?”
Emma put the phone on speaker and set it beside her where she’d flumped on the bed in her hotel room. She let out a sigh, unsure how much to say. “He broke things off and sent me home. I chose to drive instead of take the plane ticket he’d secured for me.”
“That jerk. Give me his number and I’ll give him a piece of my mind. Sounds like he could use a few more marbles rattling around up there.” Silence hung between them. Emma appreciated her loyalty, but they both knew Cara couldn’t call the man who was basically her boss—well, her boss’s boss, or whatever. Though, knowing Cara, if she’d had his number, propriety and employment status wouldn’t have stopped her from standing up for her friend.
“No, it’s fine. I didn’t expect it to last. We were just having fun. However, I didn’t think he’d go from warm to frigid in the blink of an eye.” She threw a hand over her eyes. “I don’t know what happened. I’m not sure it had anything to do with me.”
“Where are you now?”
“In a hotel somewhere outside of Albuquerque, New Mexico. I’m going to try to make it to Amarillo, Texas, or at least somewhere close. That should put me home about Tuesday.” She breathed out, wondering again why she didn’t just figure out a way to survive that flight. She’d be curled up on her own couch wearing her comfy jammies, Cara beside her, commiserating with her over man trouble. Instead, she was all by herself, a thousand miles from home.
“But you’re off the road right now, right?”
“Yep.”
“Okay then. Lay down on the bed and tell me the whole story. Don’t leave anything out.”
“Oh, Cara. I don’t want to bother you with—”
“No arguments, lady. Tell me everything, start at the wedding. We’ll start with something easy. How did it go with dear old Patty?”
Emma chuckled at the ill-concealed disdain Cara had for Emma’s stepmother. Then she drew in a deep breath and scooted up the bed until she could climb under the comforter. She dragged her phone with her, and though she’d tried, fairly unsuccessfully, to not think about her time with Ander the last two days, Cara was right. She needed a sounding board if she had any chance of making sense of the situation and moving forward.
Chapter 24
Saturday
A week ago, he was in full-on anticipation mode, waiting for the best sex of his life. Just one Saturday later and Ander was hunkered down in his old man’s office, staring out at the inviting sunny sky, thinking about a stunning woman when he should be steeling his spine to finalize his decisions. Ander swung his head the direction of the sitting area of this office. Two thoughts came to mind.
First, who really needed this much space for an office. Hell, Ander could make a nice size apartment out of half the area. He remembered back to his college days when he’d been combing through the local IKEA. They could seriously decorate a small space into a functional living area. Maybe that wasn’t a bad idea…Focus, ass!You aren’t living here. You’re trying to leave here and never look back.
That led to his second thought. The binder still sat where he’d placed it last night.
Ander scowled. Had his father spent all that time honoring Ander’s life? He rolled his eyes at the naïve hope the idea sparked in him and looked back out at the bright blue California sky. Ander scoffed. Obviously, his mother had put the book together for him. His father had probably never even seen it.
Then again… Like the worst temptation, the book drew his attention. He narrowed his eyes at the object. Maybe his fatherhadscrapbooked. The quality wasn’t great—it looked like a guy’s handiwork. Some sheet protectors and an old ratty three-ring binder, nothing frilly. When his mother or sister organized memories and saved pictures, it had a decidedly feminine feel.
Ander shrugged and sagged back against the officer chair, understanding he’d probably need some intensive therapy over this one. If he wasn’t careful, the guilt of misreading his father’s actions might turn to self-destruction. Ander winced. Forgiving his father would be a hard pill to swallow. His old man had always been such a fucking asshole.
No matter how Ander racked his brain—replaying everything from his teenage years to right this moment—he couldn’t remember a productive, healthy exchange between the two of them. If his father held a smidgen of the pride indicated by that scrapbook, then why had he always been a level-ten bastard?
The creak in the chair lulled him as he rocked to alleviate his anxiety. He guessed this classified as daddy issues. He liked the joke, but his mood was too sour to even crack a smile.
“The rest of the Jorgensen brood, with the exception of Jet, should be here by Wednesday. I’ve scheduled you two days of marathon meetings with them. I’ve asked the current executive team to be available as well. Would you like me to set the itinerary?” Lyla asked, barely stepping inside the office doorway. “I’m assuming this is like every other hostile takeover we’ve managed, nothing personal or out of the ordinary.”
Ander swiveled his chair in her direction, silently staring at her. He liked Lyla and had somehow managed to keep her over the years, even with his demanding schedule and take-no-prisoners attitude. She rolled with the punches and practically read his mind half the time. He narrowed his eyes at her and tilted his head to the side. She was pretty—how had he not paid attention before? Did she have a significant other? How did she feel about picking up her life and moving at Ander’s whim? Not that he’d offer her an out. He needed her there. His one pillar of support. His one unswayable known quantity in this equation of emotional upheaval and family drama.
Ander stared so long in silence, contemplating this different side of life, that Lyla glanced over her shoulder as if trying to see if anyone stood behind her. With no one there, she turned back to him and raised her arms in the air in exasperation. “What, Ander? You’re being weirder than normal. What’s happened to you?”
“I’ll ask the questions.” He sat straight in his chair, easily resuming the role of leader. Never one to let him get away with anything, Lyla laughed at his crisp tone.
“You’re such a turd.”
He let her have this round, needing something more than an employer/employee relationship from her.
