Arrogant Playboy(53)

“That’s the problem with pancreatic cancer. They tend to find it when it’s too late. He’s stage four, Beck. The doctor’s say this is how it usually happens. They’re fine one day, sick the next. You don’t always get a warning sign.”

It’s not enough that the old bastard spent years battling lung cancer and coming out on top like a goddamn beast, but to have his legs knocked out from under him with this? He doesn’t deserve it.

“I’ll be on the first flight out tomorrow.”

“Hey, what do you think of this?” I glance up to find Odessa strutting toward me, her iPad in her hand with a picture of a round crib on the screen. “I wanted to get your permission before I order this. It isn’t cheap. And I wanted to know if you wanted white or espresso.”

Dane rattles off in my earpiece. I’m caught between two worlds: one where Odessa’s picking out baby furniture and the other where the man who made me who I am today is lying on his deathbed.

“Dane, I’ll call you back.” I hang up.

“I can come later if you want,” she says.

I can’t speak. I can only picture my uncle.

Odessa chuckles. “What’s wrong? You look like someone told you you’re going to be a father again.”

“Uncle Leo is in hospice.” I rise though I’m not sure why. I need to go somewhere. The jet should be in the New York hangar. I could call the flight service and book a pilot immediately. “Sadie.”

“What?”

“Who’s going to stay with Sadie? I have to go to Salt Lake City.”

“Can you bring her with you?”

“Do people do that? Do they travel with twelve day old babies?”

She shrugs. “I’m sure it happens all the time. You could always ask her doctor.”

Right. If I knew who that was.

I toss a pen across my desk and lean back.

“Take her with you. Bring the nanny. People do that all the time. You’re flying private. I assume you’ll be staying with Dane again. She won’t be exposed to too many germs. I’d do it.”

I wish I had her carefree attitude. Mine abandoned me the day that baby was placed in my arms. Now I care about everything, all the fucking time.

“I’ll come with you,” she offers. “If you’re busy with your uncle and the nanny needs a break, at least you know she’ll be with someone you trust. Assuming you trust me.”

Recalling Dr. Brentwood’s speech about friends and family, I blurt, “I trust you.”

“Okay. Let me run home and pack. Send a car for me, and I’ll meet the three of you there.”

Gone are the days of hopping onto a jet and flying anywhere in the world on a moment’s notice.

“Tell Elizabeth to pack for Sadie,” she reminds me as she turns to leave. “No offense, but you’re kind of new at this and the last thing we need is to show up in Salt Lake City with two bottles, three diapers, and one change of clothes.”

Her eyes widen and her posture lifts. She wears the look of a sexy, confident woman taking charge, and in this moment, she’s everything I need.

“I might be new at this, Dess, but I’m not a moron.”

I just called her Dess…

That came out of nowhere.

“No one said you were, Beck...” She points her finger at me, winking before disappearing behind her door.





Chapter Twenty-Eight




ODESSA



“I need a word with my brother,” Beckham says when we arrive at TEH headquarters. The flight was smooth and uneventful, and baby Sadie only cried once. We settled her in with Elizabeth at Golden Oak and headed to the office.

“Not a problem,” I say. “I’ll set my things in the spare office. Got some emails to return. That article from Charity Falls should be online today too.”

Beckham heads toward Dane’s office and I make a beeline for the ladies’ room to freshen up.

I plunk my bag on the counter and whip out some lip balm and hand lotion and a compact of touch up powder. Leaning over the sink, I hear what sounds like crying from one of the stalls behind me.

Eight stalls behind me are empty. The ninth has feet. I click across the tile until I get to that door, and the sobs pause.

“Excuse me, are you crying in there?” I ask.

It’s quiet just before it gets loud again. I’m worried that poor thing in there is two seconds from hyperventilating.

“Hello? I hear you in there. Open up.”

The sound of ripping toilet paper is the only response I get.

“I’m Odessa,” I say. “You going to come out?”

I stand on my toes.

“I’m really tall, and I can see over the door, so you better come out,” I say with a tease in my tone. “Okay, never mind. I’m not that tall.”