2. James
“How’s it feel, my boy?”
My father’s beefy hand slapped against my shoulder as I looked out of the large picture window in his corner office. The street below us was full of parked cars, people on bicycles, women pushing strollers, and dogs on leashes. Most of those people were headed for the Battery which was just up the street. It was a nice sunny day, good for throwing a Frisbee to your four-legged best friend, chasing your toddler around while they giggled nonstop, or resting under a tree with a good book.
“Good, Pops. Real good. It’s nice to be back home. Big city life wasn’t for me. I knew it pretty early on, but I made a commitment so I stuck it out.”
“New York City is full of life and new experiences,” he countered.
“It’s also full of bullshit, insane drivers, and not the place for me.” I turned to take in his expression, holding in a chuckle at the pinch between his brows.
“You may have a point there,” he snickered, moving to where I stood so he could squeeze my shoulder.
“It’s a different pace than here. Charleston is bustling with people, cars, horse-drawn carriages—insanity, but it’s a familiar mash-up of things. You know what Gigi always says.”
“Yeah, you know she didn’t make that up, right?” He gave me his signature raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, Pops, I know. She stole it from Yoda, but it’s still a fair evaluation of how life should be.”
“Possibly.”
I chuckled, taking in the room around us. My Gigi was a hoot. At eighty-three, she gave no fucks. She would tell off the Pope if she thought he needed it. She was raised in a different time and held true to her family values, strong work ethic, and yet, she could out curse any sailor. I was pretty sure she would tell off anyone who showed the slightest of disrespect. Again, she was eighty-three and simply put, she was savage. I loved her to pieces. She was an amazing woman.
Her favorite thing to tell my sister and me when we were little was ‘Do or do not. There is no try.’ So she’d borrowed it from Star Wars and Yoda; that didn’t make it an ineffective tool to use against life. With the challenges thrown at us, you either worked through it or you didn’t. I believed my sister and I had managed to get where we were now in life because of that.
“I hate to pull back from working, but your mother has threatened to leave me if I don’t.”
His words brought me out of my thoughts. I shook my head at him. The man was a workaholic on his worst day; his best, he was working his literal fingers until they bled.
“She won’t leave you, though she might be tempted to just leave you behind. This cruise is something she has been asking for since I graduated high school.” I looked toward the door that led out to the main workspace. I could hear my mother’s tinkling laughter as she talked with the employees here. “You’ve put it off long enough, Pops. Go live a little. Jess and I have this. I promise to not let you and Grandpa’s legacy fail in the six weeks you’re gone. Give me some credit.”
He grinned then. “All right. All right. You speak the truth, and I think a little fun in the sun would do us all some good. Your grandmother especially. She’s already planning what to do off the boat.”
“Good. Just don’t let Gigi break a hip or go to jail for a bar fight, trying to keep up with the twenty-somethings in all of those exotic places. Yeah? She’s not fifty anymore.”
“You tell her that.”
“I love you, old man, but I love my life too. I wouldn’t ever say that out loud in her earshot. You guys will enjoy it; now, let’s get this over with, shall we? The sooner you’re out of here, the sooner I can figure out what it is I’m supposed to be doing.”
“First, I want you to meet Thomas Lane. He’s been working with Lee for the last few years. They just agreed upon a contract with Netflix for an adaptation of his last two books. That’s why the office is buzzing today. We celebrate every milestone.”
“I heard about that from Mom. I’m looking forward to meeting him and the agent he’s working with. He seems to know his stuff.”
“She. She knows her stuff. I took a chance on her, but it’s been one of the best choices I’ve made in this business. She’s stubborn to a fault, but she will fight for her clients. Good or bad. She has an eye for what is going to move her clients up the ladder of success. In the last two years, she has brought in some amazing writers, earned a few accolades of her own, and,” he smiled proudly, “she’d done it on her own. I’ve barely had to do more than give her the backing of the company.”
“Sounds like a gem.”
It wasn’t every day that my father spoke so highly of an employee. He treated them all like family, gave them praise when it was warranted, but him speaking about Lee had his eyes twinkling. I was beyond curious to meet this woman now.
I walked with my father from his—my—office, greeting employees as I went. Most of them I’d known for years. My dad was the type of person who people just wanted to work for. He was kind, thoughtful, and willing to do what he needed to do to make a buck. As long as that buck wasn’t going to harm anyone. If strait-laced had a face, he was the spokesperson.
He wasn’t like some other well-to-do self-made millionaires. The man was as down to earth as his good ol’ boy southern roots could get him. How Whitman Publishing stayed on top of the game, I wasn’t sure, but I was hoping I’d learn that little trick before my dad retired for good. Their six weeks—possibly two months if my mom got her way—sabbatical, vacation, time away, was more than earned. He, my mom, my Gigi, and my aunts, along with their husbands, would be traveling the globe for the next eighty-something days. Ocean views, fine foods, and exploring the world. It sounded great to me.
His absence left me in charge of running the company, keeping everything together, and in the end, making sure the employees stayed happy. They worked too hard for anything else.
This was what I’d missed while I was off in New York trying to find my place in a corporate, fast-paced, moving-up-the-ladder job. Why I ever thought I wanted to be in that tight-knit, over-populated, knife-in-your-back kind of environment? It was a great opportunity given to me, granted, but not something I’d wanted to continue with. My dad put his life into this publishing house. Into making this place flourish, thrive, and get bigger, one publicist at a time.
Unlike the corporate world that was more cut-throat than I’d imagined, this was not only a business; it was a family. A few of these employees had been here since the beginning. Moving and shaking alongside my grandfather and dad as Whitman Publishing grew and expanded.
My grandpa was gone and had been for many years. I knew he was happy watching the company he’d started with a manuscript and a prayer—his words—grow to what it is today.
The building sat on the corner of the historic district and had been renovated multiple times now to make sure it was a functional piece of history. The outside had a little grassy yard, planter boxes, and of course, a gigantic palm tree. Trees, flowers, the breeze blowing up from the ocean—it was home. The park up the street, the Battery, had open space to sit and lounge, for watching people or the boats as they came in and out. It was just nice.
My thoughts were pulled from my nostalgia when I heard a child call out. I followed her running toddle across the open floor and watched as she was scooped up. My smile grew as I took in the sweet scene. Then my heart stopped. I knew that woman. My mind suddenly spiraled. The beautiful woman looking at me from across the open space was someone I’d gotten to know, biblically but briefly. Her long auburn hair, curvy hips, and stunning green eyes wrapped me in a bubble that I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t believe she was here.
The last time I’d seen her, she’d sleepily told me goodnight and passed out with me. When I woke up, she was gone, my alarm clock was blaring, and I’d had to race to get to the airport on time. I never thought I’d see her again. Yet, here she was standing before me in a black pantsuit that showed off her curves. Damn, she looked good enough to eat.
“There you are. Come with me.” My dad led me to where the woman stood, her daughter on her hip. “I’d like to introduce you all. James, this is Shaylee McKnight. She is the best at what she does. This is Thomas Lane. Everyone, this is my son; he’ll be running things while we are away on our vacation.”
I watched her face pale at the introduction. She—my one-night stand who’s never left my thoughts—was my dad’s best employee? Shaking myself, I nodded in her direction. There was no way I’d let her think that I didn’t remember her or that night.
“Very nice to see you again, Shaylee, it’s been too long.” Her name fell off my tongue like water. Her shocked gaze drew me in closer. I’d replayed that night so many times while I was away, hoping that one day, if I were lucky enough, I’d meet her again. And here we were. I drew my attention to the other man my father had introduced. “Mr. Thomas, I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Yes, thanks to Lee here. I couldn’t have done it without her. She’s been my biggest cheerleader from day one.”
“Stop it.” I felt like a stalker as my attention once again went to review the beautiful woman standing before me. She shifted, her movements those of someone ready to run. Was it seeing me? The praise they were loading her down with? Both? Or just having her daughter in the office? It could be any of that and then none of it. I couldn’t just come out and ask. That would raise too many flags.
“Let me take her,” an older woman who looked just like Lee said. It had to be her mother. The little girl started to whine. “Come on, sweetheart, Mommy has to work; we just came to say hi.”
“She’s fine, Mama.”
“Lee, she gets prettier every time I see her.”
“Thank you, she’s definitely growing up too fast. I don’t like it.”
“I remember those days,” Dad joked, patting my shoulder. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment, I need to find Jessica before your mother and I head out.”
I waited until he’d stepped away, off to find my sister, before I met her gaze once again. She hadn’t moved from where she was, frozen with indecision.
“How have you been? I mean, other than…” I waved an open hand around, encompassing the office.
“Good. I didn’t know—excuse me, will you?”
Before I could reply, she was heading toward the elevator with the older woman at her side. Okay, that went stellar. Scrubbing a hand over the back of my neck, I walked back toward the publicist offices. I needed to make myself known to everyone. I stopped outside of Shaylee’s office and smiled at the woman sitting at her receptionist’s desk.
“Hello, may I help you?”
“Just stopping in to introduce myself. James Whitman.”
“Oh, it’s nice to meet you.” She stood, her hand out to take mine. “Danni Albertson.”
“You’re Shaylee’s receptionist?” I asked, taking in her bright eyes and smile. It was always better to confirm than to make a misjudgment. I hadn’t been here in over two years now. Things changed quickly in this kind of business.
She was familiar…but how?
“Yes, among other things. Did you meet her yet? She was with one of her clients on the way to the elevators. It’s been a busy day.” A moment later, I saw recognition cross her face, and it clicked. The club. She had been with Shaylee that night.
“Oh. My. God.” Her loud guffaw had me stepping back, my brows arched. “This is—excuse me. If you would like, you can wait in her office.” She motioned to the door on the way by. She was gone in a flash. What was happening to my life? When I’d come in here, I was nervous about handling my father’s business, and now, that was in the back of my mind. My entire focus was on the woman I thought had gotten away. She was here, but she had a child. Did that mean she was involved with someone? Married even? Guess I would find out soon enough.
Sighing, I looked around the office. It was neat, yet messy in areas. Manuscripts sat in a neat stack next to her desk; the shelves behind her desk were full of framed certificates, pictures of her little girl, and an array of crystals, decorative plates, and sea shells. It was nice. This office was more than a workspace for her. I liked that.
Moving closer to her desk, I lifted the small silver frame that held a picture of her and her daughter. The little girl’s slightly curled, reddish brown hair and bright green eyes drew my attention. She looked so much like her mother, but that wasn’t all. The longer I stared at the picture…
I suddenly had a feeling that Shaylee had left my apartment with more than just a good memory on that night nearly two years ago. Could I be projecting? Could that little girl be mine?
A startled gasp had me turning to find Shaylee in the doorway to her office.
I turned to face her, the frame still clutched in my hand.
I needed to ask the question, but I was afraid of the answer.