One Night To Forever. Joss Wood

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СКАЧАТЬ house. It employed many of his ex-army buddies and sent ridiculous amounts of money into his personal bank account.

      For as long as he owned Jepsen & Associates, he would swallow any costs the Ballantynes’ personal security needs generated.

      He owed Linc, his brothers and Connor a debt he couldn’t repay but he’d sure as hell try. Because, unlike his father, he believed in loyalty and responsibility.

      He looked at life straight on, readily accepting that it was a series of waves and troughs, shallow waters and depths. All one could do was just keep swimming.

      Reame looked across the room at Lachlyn and studied her exquisite profile, the horrible thought occurring to him that she might be the one woman who could make him drown.

      * * *

      The next morning, Lachlyn glanced down at the screen of her phone, thinking it was another call from a super-pushy reporter, but instead she saw the familiar number of her supervisor at the New York Public Library. Annie was not only her direct boss but the closest person she had to an older sister and best friend.

      “Hey, hun, how are you holding up?” Annie asked as Lachlyn placed her flat palm against the cool window of the small upstairs living room of The Den.

      “Fair to horrible,” Lachlyn said, pulling the drape aside to look down at the sidewalk. The crowd standing behind the wrought-iron fence was talking amongst themselves, although many cameras were pointed toward the front door. Somebody caught her movement and, almost immediately, a dozen cameras lifted in her direction. Lachlyn abruptly stepped back and ignored the muted roars for a comment, a photo opportunity, an interview. Rubbing her forehead, she slid down the wall until an expensive Persian carpet was all that separated her denim-covered butt from the rich wooden floors. “I can’t wait to come back to work next week.”

      There was a long pause and Lachlyn’s stomach jumped. Annie was usually incredibly voluble and she didn’t do silence. “That’s not going to happen anytime soon, Lach.”

      Lachlyn felt her headache intensify. “What do you mean?”

      “There’s too much attention around you, on you. The phones have been ringing off the hook, people asking anyone and everyone for information on you. It’s mayhem, Lach, and you aren’t even here.”

      The monster chomping its way through her stomach took another huge bite. “What exactly are you saying, Annie?”

      “My supervisor is suggesting that you take all of your vacation time. It adds up to about two months.” Annie said in a tone that suggested she’d been practicing how to break the news.

      “I don’t have a job anymore?” Lachlyn whispered, terrified that what she was hearing was her new reality.

      “You don’t have a job for the next few months. After that, we’ll see,” Annie said, trying to sound jaunty. “Since, according to the press, money is no longer an object, you could tour the great libraries of the world, visit the museums you always talk about going to, see the amazing art you look at in books,” Annie said, her voice turning persuasive. “This is an opportunity, Lach, not a punishment.”

      But Annie didn’t understand that, while she didn’t mind being alone, she hated not being busy, not having a purpose. Having nothing to do reminded her of her childhood, of long days and nights without company or conversation, with only an old television set for entertainment. Her mother would come home from work, pop some sleeping tabs she bought from the guy on the corner and pass out for the next fourteen or sixteen hours. Tyce was always out, selling his art in the park so that they could pay one of the many bills her mom couldn’t cover. The local library had been her favorite place to hang out and books her constant and unfailing friends. These days she spent most of her time alone but her work kept her busy.

      “Lachlyn? Lachlyn?”

      Lachlyn forced herself to blink, concentrating on the cool floor beneath her hand, allowing the noise from the photographers to drift up to her. Then she saw that the display screen on her phone still showed that she was connected to Annie.

      “I’ve got to go, Annie.”

      “Look,” Annie said, “if your situation changes I can have another talk with Martin.” But Lachlyn heard her underlying frustration, her Why would you want to spend your days digging through old papers when you could be shopping and seeing the world, playing the role of the Park Avenue Princess?

      Nobody realized that accepting the money was the easy part. It was just a couple more zeroes—okay, a lot more zeroes—in her bank account. She could take it or leave it, spend it or give it away. It was the people involved that made this difficult, the fact that this wasn’t just a matter of moving cash around. The family dynamic of who and what the Ballantynes were and stood for made this situation complicated. A cold hand squeezed her lungs together and she deliberately slowed her breathing down and released her grip on her phone, shaking her hand to put blood back into her fingers. A few months earlier, when Tyce had told her that he was making plans for her to meet her biological family she’d thought that she’d meet the Ballantynes, have a meal with them and that they’d all go back to their very different lives.

      She never expected to be offered a fat bank account, a limitless credit card, to be moved into The Den and to be hounded by the press. The possibility of being accepted as part of the family never crossed her mind. She was touched by their actions, amazed at their generosity but underneath it all, she was running scared, bone-deep terrified. Beneath the fame and money, the Ballantynes were people, and people meant relationships.

      She didn’t do relationships... How could she make them see that?

      “Lachlyn?”

      Lachlyn heard Reame’s low, deep voice and scrambled to her feet. She ducked her head and dashed her fingers against her cheeks, annoyed when she wiped away moisture. The last thing she needed was Reame to see her tears.

      Lachlyn looked at the now empty doorway, looking for Linc. His presence would, hopefully, stop her from making an ass of herself with his best friend.

      “Hi.” Lachlyn placed her shaking hands into the back pockets of her jeans and felt a hole in the corner of one of the pockets. She was wearing ragged jeans, a long-sleeve white T-shirt and banged-up sneakers, while Reame looked fantastic in his dark jeans, pale blue shirt and cream jacket. The royal blue pocket square was a nice touch. He pulled designer shades off the top of his head and tapped the glasses against his empty palm.

      Reame managed a tight smile and his eyes skittered off hers. Huh. “Where’s Linc?” she asked, darting a hopeful look at the door he’d closed behind him.

      “Shaw.”

      Reame didn’t have to say any more; in the few days that she’d spent in The Den, there had been a few “Shaw” moments.

      “Ah, enough said,” Lachlyn said, rocking on her heels.

      Reame walked over to the window and, standing to the side, pulled back the drape so that he could see out without being photographed. “The crowd looks bigger than it was twenty minutes ago.”

      “I just wish they would go away,” Lachlyn muttered. “I don’t understand why they are so interested in me.”

      “You’re young, pretty and you’ve just won the family jackpot. You are news,” Reame said in a flat СКАЧАТЬ