Chapter TwentySix
‘HARASSMENT, LIES, AND DIRTY DIAMONDS.’
Two weeks before Christmas, Capitol Press released another article that threw the entire company into damage control mode—again.
Because life wasn’t shit enough as it was.
My dad was still in a coma, and Flynn hadn’t spoken a single word to me since the day I came home from Kansas.
Any hope we had of salvaging the contract with Marina Kentwood vanished the second the new headline was plastered over every news outlet. Along with Marina, other investors and partners were starting to get cold feet, especially as the latest scandal had full-blown evidence, unlike the rumors of my dad being linked to the mob.
This time, it was in black and white how much Dad paid to silence the several women who came to him with in-work sexual harassment cases.
Twelve women, to be exact.
Every single one of them, from different parts of the business, all victims to being harassed and assaulted by their superiors.
It made me sick.
Each one of those poor women were squashed under the thumb of Reynolds’ law team, and simply fired on the spot and given a check as if it were enough to make up for the wrongs they suffered.
Walking into the office that day was one of the hardest things I’d done. I was repulsed and so full of rage toward every single person in the building who allowed it to happen that I wanted nothing more than to go to the press and accept full responsibility.
Those women deserved better.
All I could say was thank the heavens for Jaxon.
He was my small lifeline during the shit storm.
He took full control of the situation like he’d been doing for weeks on end. Holding meetings upon meetings, sending emails left and right to try and soothe any doubts that potential and current clients had.
First the fucking mob, now this?
How could Dad have allowed such things to happen?
The irony of all his charity work, the hundreds of thousands of dollars he gave away to organizations helping the vulnerable, was downright laughable.
He was willing to hand over checks like they were nothing. But standing up and actually doing something himself was apparently out of the question.
After a long hellish day of trying not to scream and cry at each new email coming through from media outlets and hate mail from the public, I was never so glad to come home.
Not the home I grew up in.
The home where the second I walked through the hall into the kitchen, I found Poppy singing to herself while she cooked up dinner, and Jaxon sitting at the kitchen table reading a book with Bell curled up on his lap.
The sight warmed me from the tips of my toes to the top of my scalp.
“You’re home.” Poppy grinned. “Just in time. Dinner is almost ready.”
I hadn’t eaten anything all day, my stomach too twisted into knots that the thought of food brought bile surging up. My stomach released a pained growl at the smell of baking bread and roasting chicken.
“Are you reading a romance novel?” I glimpsed at the book in Jaxon’s hands. “No judgment, but I didn’t peg you as the type who enjoyed reading fluffy and smutty romance.”
Jaxon didn’t look up from the book. “There was nothing else in your library except these sorts of books.”
Something was wrong. I could see the unsettledness, the slow-burning resonating beneath his skin. Like the waves of a tsunami drawing backward before total destruction.
“There’s plenty of other books in the drawing room,” I countered, unease growing as he continued to focus solely on the pages. “Pretty sure there is something a bit more tailored to your taste other than The Duke’s Grand Gesture.”
He flipped a page.
“Don’t mind him.” Poppy opened the oven. “He’s been in a foul mood ever since he took a phone call.”
“What phone call?”
“None that concerns you,” he replied, deadpan.
What a jackass.
“You could make yourself useful.” Poppy floated over to Jaxon. “Set the table and try not to break any more of the wine glasses while you’re at it.”
Jaxon rolled his eyes. “The glass slipped from my grasp.”
“So you say,” Poppy said. “Don’t see how a glass can slip from your fingers while you are on the phone and end up on the other side of the kitchen, but whatever you say.”
Bell dropped down from his lap and made a beeline for me while her new favorite person set the table in tense silence. For a cat who normally hated men, she was having no problem getting all cozy with Jaxon.
The little traitor.
He said he didn’t like animals, but Bell was wearing him down. There was more than one occasion where I caught the two of them together. Bell’s new favorite sleeping spot was Jaxon’s lap, his fingers absentmindedly stroking under her chin while he worked.
I may have been slightly jealous of my own cat.
“Are we expecting someone else?” I watched Jaxon set an extra place at the table.
“Oui, Olivier is joining us for dinner.”
I tried to swallow my groan. It wasn’t as if I disliked Jaxon’s youngest brother. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Olivier was a delight—he was always so friendly and bubbly, a complete contrast to Jaxon and Frederic. I was just exhausted and wanted nothing more than dinner and my bed.
“Why didn’t you tell me your brother was coming for dinner?”
He shrugged. “Between dealing with your father’s latest mess and trying to run my own company, I didn’t find a chance.”
I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Our offices are right beside each other. I am sure you very easily could have dropped in. Or sent me an email or, hell, put it on that damn shared calendar I made months ago.”
He shrugged while straightening the knives and forks.
This version of Jaxon was the exact same one as I first married. Distant and uncooperative.
It was as if Thanksgiving never happened.
Was I really that na?ve to think that us sleeping together would have changed how he felt?
Poppy busied herself with serving up dinner in silence.
“It’s only dinner,” Jaxon said bluntly. “Olivier called this morning and asked if I was free for lunch. Thanks to Capitol Press and your father’s cock-ups, I was unable to meet him. I thought it polite to invite him to dinner, instead.”
“No one asked you to step in and help, you know.”
“Last time I checked, it was part of our marriage agreement. I’m to help you not run the company into the ground. This sort of news could very well have done that if not acted upon appropriately.”
“That’s what our PR team is for,” I countered.
“They’ve done enough damage hiding it in the first place.” He poured himself a glass of bourbon. “I was simply fulfilling my end of the bargain, douceur.”
“What, because all of a sudden, that’s all it is again, just an arrangement?”
“Why would it be anything else?”
What the hell was wrong with him? He was acting like a total and complete ass.
Where was the man who held me at Dad’s bedside?
“Look, I understand that no one wants to deal with what happened today.” I tried to stay calm. “If Dad were awake, this would be a different story. He could answer for his actions rather than us.”
The front door knocking echoed through the silent house.
Poppy practically fell over her own feet running to answer it.
“If you’re upset because of what happened today, I can’t blame you. I am upset, too.” I stepped towards him. When he stepped back, it was a blunt blade to my heart. “Something is bothering you. I can tell. Was it the phone call?”
Guilt and uncertainty flickered in his whiskey eyes before he blinked them away rapidly. “Like I said, it does not concern you.”
Olivier sauntering into the kitchen put an unfinished abrupt end to the conversation.
Dinner was mercifully anything but awkward, thanks to Olivier.
The man was a rainbow after a storm. It was hard to stay mad with Jaxon in his brother’s presence.
Jaxon and I didn’t speak the entire length of dinner and dessert, with us both using Olivier as a buffer. If the youngest Dade picked up on any of the animosity between us, he kept it to himself and talked away as if there wasn’t a single worry in the world.
In our small world, I found out that Olivier was in NYU and currently finishing his master’s degree in economics with business management. The same degree as Flynn. He spoke highly of my brother and informed me that he was currently helping Flynn in one-to-one study sessions.
A ripple of sadness washed over me. I wanted to reach out to Flynn, to check in on him, and also to tell him that I was proud to hear he was doing well with his degree. But any previous attempts I made to speak to him, he ignored.
After dessert, I excused myself to freshen up while Jaxon showed Olivier around the house. A pointless exercise seeing that come August, Jaxon would be gone and on the next flight back to Ontario, but Olivier insisted on seeing the place.
I still was reeling about what happened before dinner.
Something caused Jaxon to revert back into his colder self, and all my guesses were pointing directly to the phone call that resulted in him shattering a wine glass against a wall. Jaxon wasn’t fooling anyone.
I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t talk to me. We’d come so far since August. I truly thought we were becoming friends—more than friends.
Because my friends didn’t make my heart skip a beat, nor did I fantasize about constantly touching and kissing my friends.
On my way back to join the brothers, I stilled outside the kitchen door at the distinct sharpness of Jaxon’s tone. “You can go straight to hell if you think I am spending Christmas with him or that useless sperm donor.”
“You’re a real charmer tonight,” Olivier said. “Was it one or maybe two whole words you spoke to your wife all night?”
“That doesn’t concern you.”
Olivier laughed. “Seriously, what has Freddie done this time to turn you into such a massive dickhead tonight?”
“He’s all the way back home, trying to sort out his own disaster of a life, and he still can’t resist butting his nose into things he shouldn’t. Now I am left cleaning up the mess from his latest stunt.”
“What did he do?”
Silence.
Olivier sighed. “Okay, then do you know why he did it?”
“He believed I was too weak.”
Bingo!
The cause of Jaxon’s broodiness and new-level scowling was none other than Frederic Dade.
“We all know what he is like,” Olivier said. “He can’t help himself. He’s always been the same, acting like our puppet master. Jax, it’s about time you cut the strings.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it?” Olivier pushed. “You could have a life here with an amazing woman at your side. Have you considered this has the potential to be more? Whatever it is Freddie wants from you, screw it. If there’s a chance Evelyn could be more…”
“Stop.” Jaxon cut him off. “Evelyn knows exactly what this is, and so do I. I’m not going to sit and play pretend with you.”
Unable to listen any further, my chest struggling to shift the pinching tightness at Jaxon’s words, I walked into the kitchen, silencing both men.
“Speak of the devil.” Olivier offered me a warm smile. “We were just discussing the plans for Christmas.”
Liar.
“Oh?” I sat down, ignoring the glass of Merlot Jaxon poured for me. I’d rather drink poison than accept it from him. “Are you spending it here?”
“God, no. Grand-mère would castrate me if I didn’t come home.” Olivier laughed. “You and Jaxon are coming to Monaco for Christmas, right?”
“I already told you,” Jaxon growled. “That’s not happening.”
“I’m not asking you. I am asking your wife.” Olivier turned to me. “You’re coming, right? Our Grand-mère is so excited to meet you. She keeps asking when Jaxon is going to bring you to meet everyone.”
Jaxon downed his bourbon. “She doesn’t want to spend Christmas with us.”
“Says who?” I snapped.
“I assumed you would want to spend Christmas here.” Jaxon’s jaw twitched. “I didn’t think you would want to leave your father.”
He wasn’t wrong.
After all, the last time I left, he ended up in a coma. But honestly, the thought of spending Christmas alone in my family home without Flynn or my dad was too sad to think about.
Flynn was likely going to spend Christmas anywhere that I wasn’t.
Lola and Violet would spend the day with their own families, and though I knew they’d invite me in a heartbeat, I didn’t want to intrude.
Poppy always flew back to her elderly parents for the holidays, and I hadn’t the faintest idea where Saunders disappeared to.
I’d be alone with only my thoughts to keep me company.
“I’d love to spend Christmas with you and your family.” I smiled at Olivier. “If you’ll have me.”
Olivier grinned in return. “Now you have to come, Jax. You can’t expect Evie to come all the way to Monaco by herself.”
“What about Reynolds?” Jaxon ground through gritted teeth. “Do you really wish to leave him?”
Yes and no.
No, because I feared that something worse would happen in my absence. What if he died when I was on the other side of the world?
And yes because the truth was, I was being selfish. I didn’t want to spend the holidays alone. With every ugly truth that was coming out about my dad, I may have loved the man, but I was struggling to like and understand him.
“It’s only for a couple days,” I said. “The doctors said he hasn’t shown any worsening signs. They seemed positive that the coma is doing more good than harm. I will tell them to ring me at the first sign something is wrong, and I’ll come straight home.”
“Perfect.” Olivier clapped his hands together. “It’s all settled.”
Maybe I was being a little spiteful, considering how things between us were left before dinner, because it was obvious Jaxon didn’t want me to go.
“Do you have a problem with that?” I asked Jaxon, tempting him to actually communicate with me like an actual adult and not a fucking man-child.
“Non.”
Christmas in Monaco it was then.