Authors: Katie Jennings
Tags: #danilelle steel, #money, #Family, #Drama, #deceipt, #Family Saga, #stories that span generations, #Murder, #the rich, #high-stakes, #nora roberts
Madison hit the off button on the television remote, refusing to watch it any longer. Beside her on the sofa in Grant’s office, Linc rubbed his face with his hands and grunted in frustration.
“This is only the beginning,” he said quietly, shaking his head with a sigh as he looked up at his siblings. “You know that on Monday when all the networks officially get their hands on that police report that the shit is really going to hit the fan and we’re all gonna be covered in it.”
“We have one thing going for us,” Madison began, crossing her legs primly as she glanced to her left and right at each of her brothers. “We know the whole truth now and are in a position of power because of it. First thing Monday morning, we will send out a press release explaining where we stand on our grandfather’s crimes and death and how we are determined to move on and remain committed to excellence in serving our guests. We can’t stop the media from hyping up the murders, but we
can
present our usual and potential guests with reassurance that we are not going to let half century old crimes destroy us.”
“And for God’s sake we’ve gotta keep dad under fucking wraps,” Linc put in heatedly, rising to his feet. He stared down pointedly at his sister, his expression filled with equal parts fatigue and resentment. “Since you’re in charge now, I guess I’ll leave dealing with him up to you. I’ll just go work on that press release like a good soldier.”
He stalked out of the room and shut the door, leaving Grant and Madison alone.
They sat in silence for a long moment, neither sure just where they stood with each other. That morning they had come together with Linc to discuss the family business, but any emotions had been pushed aside so that the focus would be on handling the situation. They had been coldly polite with each other, but now that Linc was gone, there was only room left to speak their minds.
If only they could decide who should forgo pride and speak first.
“I’ve scheduled the funeral for Friday afternoon,” Madison said then, the tone of her voice emotionless. She shuffled through the stack of newspapers in her lap, pretending to look through them even as her eyes saw nothing. It was simply an attempt to buy time. “Ferncliff Cemetery, of course. I’ve arranged for him to be buried in the plot beside our grandmother, as he requested in his will.” She paused, setting aside the newspapers and turning to face her brother. He sat beside her, still as a statue, his arms resting on his knees as he leaned forward, his eyes focused on his hands. She would have given anything to know what he was thinking, to know what he was feeling. But he was as closed off as ever. “I’ve also contacted everyone in L.A., Vegas, London and Paris. They’re making their flight arrangements as we speak, and I took the liberty to book them rooms here in the hotel. Seeing as we’ve been in somewhat of a lag since this whole scandal broke out, there were plenty of available rooms.”
Grant nodded slowly, acknowledging her words without looking up from his hands. After a few more moments of silence, he finally spoke, his voice just as void of emotion as hers had been. “You’re adjusting well to being in charge, Mads.”
She fought back the urge to take a swipe back at him and instead folded her hands primly in her lap and tried on a careful smile. “Why would I waste such a gift? Or, maybe it would better be described as a burden. Either way, it’s mine to bear now. And if you do not wish to work under me and continue as general manager of this hotel, then I will just have to take on that as well.”
She cursed herself silently and bit back the flash of guilt she felt at her own words, knowing they were unnecessarily cruel. On instinct, she reached out to hold his hand, urging him to look at her. When he did, she let the regret she felt show. “I know you feel betrayed, Grant. But I want you here beside me. You and Linc both. If I had to do this on my own, I could find a way to manage, but I don’t want it to be that way. I need you to trust that I have only the best interests of all of you and of the hotels in mind as we move forward, and that I would give my very life for this.” She had to pause, her emotions strangling her throat and forcing unwanted tears into her eyes. She watched the change that came over his face as he noticed her pain, and he squeezed her hand gently to show he was listening.
When she continued, there was an unbridled tenacity in her voice that impressed him, but did not come as a surprise. Madison had always been the strongest person in any room, why should this situation have changed that? “This hotel, the legacy we inherited, it needs to be protected, Grant. And I know you love it as much as I do. So please, don’t let your anger over this situation cloud your judgment. We must stand united, now more than ever.”
Grant considered her words, weighing them against his own feelings, only to find the stubbornness he had been battling before had now been ground into inconsequential dust. Damn it all, she was his sister and he loved her. Just as he loved the hotel.
Without a word, he slipped his hand from hers and wrapped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her against him. She leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder and released a long, overdue sigh of relief.
“The three of us have always stuck together,” he murmured softly, staring up at his wall with all of the family photographs he had collected. His eyes hovered over one that showed the three of them as children standing side by side in the lobby of that very hotel, holding hands. It startled him that his throat tightened uncomfortably from the memory, and only made him hold her against him tighter. “This won’t change that.”
“Thank you,” Madison whispered, kissing his cheek as she pulled away, her eyes meeting his. Then the gratitude in her eyes faded as curiosity replaced it. “You brought the secretary as your date last night. Are you seeing her?”
Grant avoided the critical look she gave him and shifted away from her, anger replacing the tightness in his throat with a bitterness he couldn’t shake. “Not exactly, no.”
Her eyebrows shot up in astonishment, her lips pursing as she gave his words consideration. “My my, this is certainly an odd move for you. Falling for the secretary. Interoffice romance. It’s very scandalous.”
He shot her a dark look, irritated that he felt even a drop of guilt over it.
“I suppose I could tell, though,” she continued, tilting her head to the side as she watched him, amused that he was so touchy about the subject. That meant only one thing, that whatever he felt for this girl was serious enough that her stern, impassive brother was losing his cool and getting all flustered. Very, very interesting. “Obviously I was dealing with my own demons last night, but when I did get a chance I noticed the two of you together. She makes you happy, doesn’t she?”
After a sidelong look, he nodded. “She does.”
Her face lit with a slow, considering smile. “Well, she may not have been my first choice for you, but she seems like a nice enough girl. I hope to find that she is deserving of you.”
He nodded again, relaxing his shoulders a bit as he turned to face her. “I want you to consider allowing her to intern as cook in
Cherir
, Mads. She deserves the chance to prove herself.”
One eyebrow arched curiously as she considered his request. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Though I’m surprised to see you sticking your neck out for her this way. She must be very important to you.”
“I believe in her,” he said simply, his eyes glowing with pride.
Seeing it had her smiling again. Yes, this
was
interesting. “Then she will have her shot, Grant. Once things settle down and I have time to think, I’ll arrange it.”
“Thank you.” He nodded, avoiding her eyes uneasily as other memories from the night before resurfaced in his mind. “Has Wyatt left town?”
“I wouldn’t know,” she bristled, eyebrows raised. “Though I can’t see why it matters. There are much more pressing issues at hand, darling.”
With that, she rose to her feet and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. When she pulled back and straightened, her amber eyes were hard and remote. “I’m going to hire a guard to watch our father’s room to make sure he doesn’t leave. Until the worst of this settles down, I don’t want him setting foot outside of that room.”
Grant’s brows furrowed doubtfully. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mads. He won’t do well locked up like that for the few weeks it’s going to take for this to quiet down.”
“He’s made his own bed, Grant. It’s time for him to lie in it,” she replied simply before turning from him and promptly leaving the room. The door clicked shut behind her and he sat in silence for a long while, gazing up at the images of his family, wondering just when in the hell it had all gotten so extraordinarily out of control.
“Wake up Winnie…
it’s time to get up.”
He heard the voice, the words, but they seemed lost in the darkness. He could feel his body attempting to move, trying to wake up, but his mind was groggy and disoriented and failed to follow through for several moments. It wasn’t until the slap hit him hard in the face that his eyes flew open.
He sat up and let out a barely coherent grunt of confusion, staring around for the source of the slap. His eyes found Jorja, seated beside him on the bed.
“I’m sorry, honey, but you need to wake up now,” she purred, a kittenish smile curving her lips as she leaned in to kiss him lightly on the forehead.
Win winced and fell back against the pillows, rubbing his face with his hands. “What time is it?”
“It’s nine am, Thursday morning. The funeral is tomorrow, and I’ve come to bring you your suit. And your crutch, I suppose.”
“Thank God, I ran out of grass and pills yesterday…” he mumbled as he sat up and reached for an opened, half empty beer on his nightstand, chugging a few sips to soothe his dry throat. As he set the beer down, he angled his head to look at her, an admiring gleam to his dusty blue eyes. “You’re so damn beautiful. Why the hell do you hang around with a guy like me?”
Jorja smirked and sidled closer to him on the bed, reaching over to run her hand down his thigh, cruising back up the denim of his jeans to tease him tortuously. “Honey, you and me, we’re just so much alike. I understand you, know you for what you are and what you can be. No one will ever have as much faith in you as I do.”
“Really? You believe in me?” Win managed, his eyes widening slightly as he stared at her, honestly taken aback. “No one’s ever said that to me before. Ever.”
“With my help, Win, we’re going to do great things.” Jorja leaned in, her lips sliding over his throat and her tongue hot on his skin. “You’re my ticket into the Vasser family empire, honey, pure and simple. And I’m your ticket to realizing your dreams.”
“What dreams would those be?” He grasped for her desperately, his hands greedy as they fumbled over her body.
“To open a Vasser luxury hotel in Miami, one to call your own. To make me your wife, your partner…think of the money, the glamour, the prestige. We could have it all, Win.”
He rode on the image she created, and on the knowledge that the marijuana she had procured for him would relax and comfort him the minute she left. And since he couldn’t leave his goddamn room, what else was he supposed to do to loosen up? Madison would surely flay him alive if she knew. But then again, maybe he could make her understand. A man had a right to relax, didn’t he? There was only so much alcohol could do for him anymore. He needed something else to help him get through the days, the hours, the fucking
minutes
he had to spend in this cramped, pitiful room.
No daylight, other than what little managed to come through the north-facing window. No fresh air, since the window didn’t open. And a security guard at his door at all hours of the night and day, preventing any hopes of escape.
It was downright humiliating, but he was miserably helpless to do anything about it. Other than get high. And thanks to Jorja, who graciously kept the supply of booze and drugs coming, he was managing the days as best he could.
An hour or so later, she tugged on her dress and sauntered out of the room, promising to return later with food. He waved her off, already lighting up the single joint she’d gotten for him.
Later, after the joint was diminished and his system was smoothing out from the drug, he settled into the shower with the water steaming all around him. He sat on the cool tile floor and rested his head back against the wall.