5. Alistair
ALISTAIR
The playroom was covered in Christmas wrapping paper after Kenna gleefully ripped open all her presents.
I could hear it crinkling as Kenna crawled around, chatting happily to Madison about everything Santa had brought her—specifically the toy kitchen where she insisted on making pretend snacks for Princess.
When I bought the place, I’d purposely chosen the room attached to my office as her play area so I could keep an eye on her while I was working. It usually wasn’t an issue to have her next door, but that blasted dog kept barking the entire time, and it was loud.
I curled my fingers against my keyboard as Princess started barking again. That high-pitched yip was going to haunt my nightmares. I finished the email and fired it off to my administrative assistant, Alfie.
He’d messaged me an hour ago saying the latest start-up company I’d invested in was requesting an urgent meeting. I’d told him I could jump on a call in the next ten minutes if it was that urgent, but at this rate—bark, bark, bark—I wasn’t going to be able to hear a damn thing.
Plus, I’d come off as unprofessional, and that was absolutely the last thing I wanted.
Jessica’s embezzlement had already tanked my reputation.
Everyone blamed me for not seeing it coming, for giving her the access to my life that let her get into the accounts.
Hell, the whole reason I had to spend those awful months in court was because my own board sued me for negligence and dereliction of duty.
The criminal courts had no interest in me—it wasn’t illegal to be a sad bastard who’d fallen for a scam artist—but the court of public opinion was more than willing to crucify me, and the board members thought they could sue to get their pound of flesh.
I won the case, but it didn’t make things any better.
There was no healing the divide between the board and me, and resigning was the only option that made sense.
Resigning from the company I founded and nurtured and built, brick by brick.
There was, admittedly, a little satisfaction in making them pay out for an exorbitant golden parachute to send me on my way.
But the next challenge became what to do with it, and with my time.
Like hell was I going to sit on my arse for the rest of my days.
Didn’t matter that I didn’t have to work, I wanted to work.
Wanted to show that I still had it, that I still knew how to make something a success.
So I’d turned my focus to angel investing.
I provided personal capital to early-stage start-ups, mostly in the tech industry, in exchange for equity.
It required a little more handholding than I’d expected. But if success meant having to make a call to talk the founders through their latest hurdle on Christmas Day, then so be it.
Bark. Bark. Bark!
But not with a dog in the background. I got to my feet, poking my head into the playroom. Kenna lay on the floor beneath a mountain of wrapping paper, giggling and shrieking while Princess raced around her. I caught Madison’s eye.
“Why don’t you and Princess find somewhere else in the house to be?” I suggested in a tone that made it clear it wasn’t a suggestion.
Kenna sat up suddenly, those blue eyes widening. “I don’t want them to go!”
“Daddy has to take a meeting,” I said. “And Princess is very noisy.”
“She can be quiet.” Kenna caught the dog in her arms, her bottom lip trembling.
That was a big fat lie, and we all knew it.
“Why don’t I take Princess and Kenna outside to play in the snow?” Madison suggested.
I immediately opened my mouth to reject the idea, but Kenna cheered. I scowled at Madison. I didn’t want Kenna out of my sight with a practical stranger and her yappy little dog.
“Trust me,” Madison said. “This way everyone burns off some energy, and you don’t have to listen to Princess serenade you. We’re playing Popstar next, just FYI. We already have the songs picked out, and Princess has been practicing.”
My lips curled back over my teeth. Wonderful.
“I want to play in the snow!” Kenna said, getting to her feet and tugging on my trousers. “Please, Daddy?” She pouted. “Pleeeeeeease.”
Madison stood as well. “I’m actually great with kids,” she said. “Even won babysitter of the year back home in Connecticut.”
“That’s not a thing,” I muttered.
The corner of her lips quirked. Those perfectly pink, rosebud lips that I had no business staring at. “No, but if it was, I definitely would have taken home first place.”
I rubbed my eyes. I really needed to jump on this call without Kenna and the dog playing Popstar in the background. Okay, fine. “I will allow it on one condition—”
Kenna hugged my legs, squealing in excitement.
“—you play in the part of the yard that my office overlooks so I can keep an eye on things.”
Madison gave me a salute. “Whatever you say, Lord Crankypants.”
“Crankypants!” Kenna cried, giggling as she rushed out of the room to find her woolies and ski trousers. Madison gave me a sheepish grin.
I ignored her, poking my head into the hallway. “Make sure you put on your hat, Kenna!” I called after her. “And your gloves!” She was always forgetting them. Princess growled up at my knees.
“What do you want?” I grumbled under my breath.
Madison scooped the dog up. “She’s just excited.”
“Well, take that excitement outdoors. Before I change my mind.” I turned back to my desk, and Madison hurried off after Kenna, taking Princess with her.
Thank Christ!
I plopped myself into my chair and started the meeting.
“Here he is now,” Alfie said as I plastered a smile on my face. First rule of business. Never let them know how flustered you are. And I certainly wasn’t flustered by the woman who’d crawled through my dog door.
Annoyed, yes.
Irritated, most definitely.
But flustered? Never.
We started the meeting, discussing the fact that one of their other big investors had just pulled out, triggering a domino effect of smaller investors pulling the plug.
Soon, they would no longer meet the minimum funding needed to go live, which meant the entire company was at risk of collapsing, hence the urgent Christmas Day call.
While we spoke, I kept an eye out the window, watching as Kenna and Madison attempted to build Princess a throne.
That was the last thing that dog needed. It already thought it ruled the world.
When the meeting wrapped up, I popped onto a new call with Alfie so we could debrief.
“Want me to pull the reports that made the other investor antsy?” he asked.
I rubbed my jaw, reclining back in my chair. “Yes. I want to know what we’re dealing with. In the meantime, let’s prepare to transfer the funds to bridge the company through to January,” I said. “Can you follow up with them tomorrow to see where they’re at with the smaller investors?”
Alfie nodded, adding tasks to his to-do list. He was in his early twenties, with a hipster aesthetic, and he spewed pop culture references at a rate that made me roll my eyes.
But he was also efficient and reliable and had walked with me when I left my company, Voyages, Inc.
He lived down in London, which meant we rarely saw each other in person these days, but he was good at keeping up with my constant string of calls and emails.
Honestly, he was one of the few people left in my life I actually trusted.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“How’s Christmas?”
He shrugged. “Quiet for now. Mum’s making her famous mince pies. But the rest of the family will be here tonight. How’s the hunt for the nanny going?”
“Rubbish,” I admitted. “But I’ve got two more interviews lined up for this afternoon.”
“On Christmas?” I thought I heard a flash of censure from Alfie before he hastily added, “Forget I asked that. I know this is important.”
Kenna needed more care and attention than I could give her while I was working.
In London, she’d attended an elite nursery, but there were no facilities like that in Braeburn—and I wasn’t particularly interested in driving into town every day, especially when the roads were bad.
So I’d lined up a nanny. Clarice had been qualified, experienced, and discreet—and she hadn’t asked me one single question about Jessica or the trial during our interview, so I’d thought she’d work out perfectly.
But maybe I should have asked more questions about her expectations when it came to a house in the Scottish Highlands.
She’d been horrified when she’d realized just how remote the estate truly was, and she’d only lasted a few weeks before she quit.
I’d been urgently searching for a replacement ever since—and shamelessly imposing on my friends to help look after Kenna—but it was long past time for me to hire someone.
“Fingers crossed then. Do you want me to go back to the agency and ask for more options?”
“Not yet.” I sighed, drumming my fingers on the desk. I didn’t have the patience for any more interviews. One of these two needed to bloody well work out.
“Right, keep me posted then.”
“Merry Christmas,” I said, signing off. With that done, I got to my feet, glancing out at Madison and Kenna again. They’d moved on to sculpting a family of snowmen while Princess raced around. I couldn’t hear her from all the way up here, but I just knew she was barking up a storm.
My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text from Weston.
Merry Christmas, you filthy animal, he wrote. It was accompanied by a GIF from Home Alone.
Everyone says hi. They’re bummed you’re not here. Aisling is missing Kenna. Locke claims you planned this on purpose so you didn’t have to help us shovel out.
I smirked at that. Living in the same area as my two best friends had been one of the best things about relocating to Braeburn. And not just because I could con them into free childcare.
How’s it going over there? Weston continued. You guys take any damage from the storm?
Not that I can tell. Lots of snow, and no way to clear the road, but we’ve still got power.