Jackson stared at the bottle in his hand, anger mingling with frustration. “Gramps didn’t give her a chance.”
“Yeah, well you know how he hates anyone messing with his toys.”
“She looked shell-shocked.”
“Probably the sight of Gram’s knitting. That shade of green didn’t do it for me, either. Please tell me that’s not my Christmas present.” Tyler shuddered and Jackson finished his drink.
“I have work to do.”
“We all have work to do,” Tyler frowned across at Brenna, who was still laughing with Josh. “What is she finding so funny? I don’t think Josh has ever made me laugh. Certainly didn’t when he gave me that speeding ticket last summer. Son of a bitch didn’t even crack a smile.”
Jackson was fairly sure the exaggerated laughter was for Tyler’s benefit. He grabbed his jacket and stood up. “I need to get going.”
“Me, too. I need to get back and try to have another conversation with Jess, which is going to be harder work than anything you’re doing. It isn’t easy saying no to a kid when her response is ‘you did it at my age.’”
“You did do it at her age. All of it.”
“So?” Tyler scowled. “That means I know what I’m talking about.”
“Tyler?”
“What?”
“You don’t know shit.” Shaking his head, Jackson strolled toward the door.
* * *
INSOMNIA WAS A BITCH.
Kayla lay on the shelf, staring out over the forest. The moon sent a beam of light over the trees, turning the surface of the snow to shimmering silver. She’d started in the master bedroom but had been too restless to sleep, so she’d pulled on a warm robe, made herself a mug of tea and climbed the spiral staircase to this small patch of heaven.
She cradled the warm mug in her hands. It should have offered comfort, but inside she was cold, so cold she felt as if she’d never be warm again.
She’d discovered long before that loneliness could be a dull background ache or it could be sharp and painful. It could bite into the soft parts of a person leaving bruises, or it could just nip gently at the edges of your subconscious.
She’d learned to live with it, but tonight the O’Neils had ripped away all the protection she’d so carefully wrapped around herself, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.
It wasn’t just the hostility, although there was no doubt Walter had been openly hostile. Alice and Elizabeth had been almost smothering in their affection and level of welcome, and that was almost as bad.
She kept her interaction with people superficial. She didn’t bond. She didn’t make attachments. She didn’t want attachments.
But if she wanted this business, she was going to have to find a way of working with the O’Neils.
Snuggling against the pile of soft pillows, she sipped her tea and thought about what lay ahead.
The family setup might be unusual, but the business problems weren’t.
Tonight had been a disaster, but not because she didn’t know her job. Because of the people. Because she had no idea how to relate to them.
She told herself she didn’t have to bond with them to help them.
No one was asking her to become part of the family.
All she had to do was win their trust, find out what mattered to them and what they needed and then produce a tailored marketing plan that would solve their problems.
It really wasn’t that hard.
She had to ignore the other stuff.
She especially had to ignore the chemistry with Jackson.
CHAPTER SIX
SHE WAS AWAKE at five, after a night in which sleep occupied less than a few hours. That, at least, was familiar.
She stuck to her usual routine. Brisk shower followed by strong coffee and an hour spent on her laptop, first clearing emails and then working on ideas. This was always her most creative time of day, before the sun came up and her phone starting ringing. Ideas flowed, and she spread papers over the work surface in the kitchen, scribbled notes, wrote down what she’d learned, afraid to lose even a single thought, terrified that if she slowed down or stopped to think about the night before her brain would freeze again.
She paced the length and breadth of the vaulted living room, watching darkness turn to dawn and snowy treetops emerge from a blanket of early-morning mist.
The beauty of it soothed her.
Here, deep in the forest, there were no reminders of Christmas. No glittering decorations, no maniacally grinning Santas, no canned Christmas music playing on a loop. Just nature at its most peaceful.
Her emotions, violently disturbed by the events of the night before, gradually settled.
By the time she took a break, her list of questions were longer than her list of answers, and her coffee had sat untouched on the table for an hour.