Chapter 2
JETT
My assistant can be a bit ditzy at times, but she's usually very efficient, and she's the reason I function as well as I do. She organizes and fixes things for me. I rely on her too much.
Then there are moments when she gets distracted. Her mom's passing six months ago hit her hard. I understand it, though. I know what it’s like to grow up without a mother.
I was right there by Cari’s side after her mother lost the fight for her life. I’d been awful to her. A huge deal I desperately needed was stalled at the last moment because she missed something, and I unleashed my fury. I should have picked up on what she missed because she was going through such a tough time. I had no idea that her mother was lying in the hospital sick with an infection which spiraled into sepsis and took her life. I rushed to the hospital only to see ? Cari fall apart.
I'm usually the last person to offer comfort, except to Brooke. But that day, I couldn't bear to watch Cari wrapping her arms around herself, as if she were trying to keep from falling apart. Tears streamed down her pale face, and I couldn't stand there and do nothing. I pulled her to me, and she melted against my chest. I hugged her tight and tucked her head under my chin. She was so small and fragile in my arms, and she broke into pieces while I held her.
That day is etched into my brain forever.
I don’t yell at her for fun. She probably thinks I do it more since her mom passed, but that's not what’s going on. There are moments where I see Cari drift off to another place. I know when it happens because I see grief crawling over her, winding its heavy vines and rooting her in sorrow. In those moments I try to do something, anything , to evoke an emotion other than the heartache and suffering she's feeling. It works, because I see it. I see how my words and my moods incite a spark back into her eyes. They make her react, give her a fire and animation that’s a million times better than her drifting around the office with a blank expression. I will take Cari’s anger any time over her bottomless misery.
So I do my best to elicit a reaction, because anything is better than seeing her heartbroken.
But she is a dichotomy. One moment she's a super-organized tower of efficiency who I'd be lost without. But some days I get the other Cari. Like the one who just tipped over my coffee cup and then mopped it up with her dress.
I didn't need to see her bare leg. Not as I'm about to start a meeting with my overbearing father. At times like this I need to be on my A game, and sometimes, Cari knocks me right off it.
I stare at the computer screen, at my father's cold face, and I listen. But my office smells of coffee, and it’s hard to focus.
“I don't like it,” my father says, pulling me back into the meeting. Thankfully, Zach is also on this one.
“What's not to like?” I try to mask my irritation. I caught the gist of what he was saying. Our father distrusts everyone and everything. Hell, I’m the same way, probably more like him than I’d care to admit. Alicia once said that, along with every other woman I’ve introduced to the old man.
“I don’t trust them, but that’s because I don’t know them. Yet. ? Is that the time?” my father grumbles, glancing at the corner of the screen.
“It's almost ten in the morning over here,” Zach says helpfully, ever the diligent son. Of the three of us—six if you count the other Knights— I called them the half-Knights once. My father heard and rebuked me for it. Brothers by another mother. The secret family that upended our world and our mother’s.
Of us all, Zach is the one who seems desperate for our father's love and attention. He’s the only one who calls him “Dad.” The rest of us don’t call him anything. ? We meet every so often at the Knight family dinners that our father hosts at his place, with me and my brothers and the other Knights. We all sit around the table, eating and talking shop. It’s a painful evening for everyone—except, possibly, our father. He relishes in the torture of putting us all together. I’m certain that he insists on it, not because he cares for unity, or about us being a family, but because a united front is vital to keeping his empire intact.
“I’m looking at AO Eletronica. The owner, a hugely successful businessman, is worth billions. I like their business—it’s in the telecoms and electronics space—but I need to get to know him better as a person to see how we can help one another. Wine and dine him and his management board,” our father says. “And until I do that, I don’t trust them.”
You don't trust anyone.
“Don't worry. I’m sure you’ll suss them out, Dad.” Zach reassures him again and I nod in agreement, my contribution minimal. Why isn’t Dex on this call? I was just talking to him earlier. The smart guy probably wised-up and found something to keep him busy. No one likes a meeting with Paul Knight, but a morning meeting just sets the day up wrong.
“Are we done?” I ask, feeling a tightness at the back of my neck.
“For now.” Our father hangs up.
“Speak to you later,” I say to Zach, and hang up, before standing up and stretching. The tension in my shoulders ease with a satisfying crack. The air smells like coffee and wet fabric but my desk is spotless now, thanks to Cari.
I step out of the office to find her. She’s standing at the copier with her back to me, still wearing that same damp dress. The soft hum of the photocopier fills the room. I clear my throat, but she doesn’t turn around. I wonder if she’s ignoring me on purpose?
“Isn’t that still wet?” I ask, making my way toward her.
She jerks her head toward me, cheeks flushed. She’s always been terrible at hiding her emotions.
“Your dress,” I explain, gesturing toward the fabric clinging to her. “It's still looks wet.”
Nose up in the air, she swipes her photocopied sheets and swans away. “I'll live.”
She’s been quieter lately, and it doesn’t sit right with me. Normally, we trade banter—her sharp comebacks, my dry humor. Direct orders work best with Cari. She responds to those.
She sits down, placing the pile of papers on her desk before continuing with her work. She doesn’t engage in small talk. I talk; she works.
“Go buy yourself a new dress.” I pull out my credit card and offer it to her. Just as I expected, her brown eyes flash with defiance as she glances at the card, as though I’ve handed her a dead rat. I don’t understand why she looks confused. I’ve given her the card before—to pick up gifts, jewelry, and lingerie for my girlfriends; things I don’t put on the company card.
“I have my own money, Jett.” Her voice is low, almost wounded.
“It’s just a suggestion,” I huff, trying to shake off the tension. It certainly wasn’t my intention to make her feel like she couldn’t afford it herself. She shakes her head, and I slip the card back into my wallet. “Have it your way. But this,” I motion her outfit with my hand, “is a bad look for the office, especially if a client walks in and sees that.”
“I’ll dry it with a hand dryer in the washroom.” She goes back to her work, still not meeting my eyes. Come to think of it, she’s been off for a while now. Even when I sent her to pick up those earrings for Alicia from Cartier, she didn’t throw her usual quips at me. I miss the barbed comments, the verbal sparring. I miss the old Cari.
“We’re leaving early tomorrow,” I say, changing the subject. I'm going on a short business trip to Monaco, and when Alicia heard about it she wanted to come along. So, we’re going a few days early to have some time to enjoy the sights. I don’t care for it much, but Alicia says she could do with a break. “I won’t be in the office for the rest of the week.”
“Enjoy your vacation,” Cari mutters without looking up.
“It’s not a vacation.” I grit my teeth. “It’s business.” Of the seven days, five are for business, meetings with investors and shareholders, then more meetings with a couple of startups I’m interested in. Plenty of things to keep me busy.
She meets my gaze, and something flickers there—something dark, simmering beneath the surface of those russet-brown eyes, something that has me feeling instantly restless and edgy.
“Okay then ... Enjoy your business, Mr. Knight.”
I’m about to make a comment. She doesn’t usually call me Mr. Knight, but recently, in prickly moments, she has been.
***
“Daddy!” My little girl’s cheeky smile welcomes me.
I open my arms, and she rushes towards me in her pink unicorn nightshirt, her damp hair still smelling like shampoo. “Gotcha, sprout,” I say, settling her on my hip as she wraps her arms around my neck.
“Anything I should know?” I ask Anna, my live-in nanny.
“She's been waiting up for you, Mr. Knight. She’s had dinner, a bath, we’ve done some coloring, and the homework school sent. She didn't want to go to bed without seeing you.”
“You did the coloring without me?”
“You weren’t here, Daddy. I never seen you ‘till bedtime.”
I nod to Anna. “Thanks, I’ll take it from here.” After a hard day at work, the best thing in my life is coming home to my girl. We live in a four-story townhouse-style apartment in the heart of Tribeca. Me, Dex, and Zach. There are only four units in the building, each accessed by a private elevator.
This works for us, because it keeps us close but separate. Gives us privacy when we need it, but a chance to easily meet up if we need to.
Naturally, being the oldest, I have the top floor penthouse. Dex and Zach have the lower floors, and we have a pool, sauna, and gym on the ground floor.
Unlike the office block we share with our father and the half-Knights in Midtown Manhattan, we have our own living space, away from the boys who live in SoHo. I like that distance between us.
With my girl in my arms, I swirl her around in the air. Brooke giggles. “Daddy, stop!” So, I do, and sit on her bed with her still in my arms. Soon she’ll be too big for this. She’s no longer the chubby toddler I used to know. Now she’s all long legs and skinny arms. She’s only four—almost five.
Brooke snuggles into me, and I sit down on her bed, holding her close. She’s growing up too fast. “I’m sorry I was late for dinner.”
“You’re going tomorrow. Anna said you’re going for a long time.”
I make a face, feeling genuinely wretched. I hate leaving her, but business comes first, for the moment. I would happily have taken Brooke with me, but her teacher said a week was too long to be out of school. That Brooke needs stability, and consistency. I already took her skiing with us a few months ago when I pulled her out of her class for ten days, so I guess she has a point. “It’s not a long time, sprout,” I tell her gently. “It’s not weeks and weeks and weeks. It’s seven days.”
Her face scrunches up just as her eyes widen. “That’s a long time, Daddy!”
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
“But when will you come back? It’s my party, ‘member?”
“I do remember. How could I forget such an important date?” I drop a kiss on her forehead. Because of Brooke’s birthday, I tacked a few days onto the start of the trip, not the end. There’s no way I’m missing this milestone. She beams me a smile that melts my heart and I rush to reassure her, stroking her damp hair. “I’m sorry things are so hectic, that I’m always so busy. But soon, one day, things will slow down and we’ll be able to spend lots of time together.”
“You promise?” Her eyes fill with hope.
“I promise.” But I feel like a liar saying these words, even though a part of me wants them to be true. We’re always working, doing deals, traveling, and expanding our empire. It seems as if our father thrives on all of this, but I’m becoming aware that I’m missing the chance to see my little girl grow up. She’s already without a mother, and I need to be a better parent, both a mother and a father. I’m doing a lousy job at the moment. This addiction to money that afflicts my father, I once had too—until Brooke was born. But I was forced to slow down and enjoy what little happiness we got to share as a family—Sophia, Brooke, and I. And then when Sophia died, I got caught up again in chasing deals and money. More as a distraction, than anything.
Brooke frowns as if she doesn’t believe me. “Anna’s not gonna be there,” she says.
What? I huff as I start to remember. Of course she isn’t. She’s going away that weekend on a bachelorette party. I forget whose. Might even be hers, for all I know. “You’re right, she isn’t.”
“You forgot, didn’t you?” She stares at me accusingly. How did she get so clever?
“No, no.” It’s not technically a lie, since I knew, just forgot this week. The meeting with my father was unnerving, and Alicia has been a distraction. “I know it’s your party.”
“Is Cari coming?”
My stomach drops. Fuck. Something else I forgot to do. I forgot to ask her. I beam a smile at my girl but she sees right through it.
“Did you forget, Daddy?”
I sure did. “I've been busy, sprout. Don’t you worry, I’ll sort it out.”
“I want Cari there.”
“I’ll talk to her,” I promise, knowing I’ll have to call Cari as soon as we’re in Monaco.
Brooke adores her, and I can’t imagine the party without Cari being there. Alicia and my previous girlfriends have commented on their unusual connection, but I’ve brought Brooke to the office many times over the years. From what I remember, Cari met her during her first week on the job and took a liking to Brooke straightaway. Brooke seemed to bond with Cari, too. What I find most perplexing is how an only child like Cari can be so good with children, when she doesn’t have any siblings of her own?
But Cari has so many endearing qualities, and she’s got a big heart. Her smile is infectious, as is her laughter, even though I haven’t seen much of these things in the last few months. “I can ask her, but she might be busy,” I forewarn my girl.
Brooke grins, already content with my answer. Any mention of Cari has that effect. I owe my assistant so much. “I’ll ask her, and let’s hope she can make it.” I press a kiss on her cheeks, first one then the other, then a kiss on her forehead, nose, and chin. She giggles. “How about I read a book to you?” I offer, wanting to end the night on a good note. I want her to be happy with me, and to feel loved and cherished.
She races to her bookshelf and grabs her favorite bedtime stories. As she curls up beside me, I kiss the top of her head, guilt gnawing at me. My daughter deserves more than a distracted father and a carousel of girlfriends who take up what little free time I have outside of business.
Business comes first most of the time, but I’m determined to fix things. I’m taking Brooke to Bermuda for a long vacation soon. It’s a business trip, but I’ll make sure I spend quality time with my little girl.