Love Me: The Complete Series (40 page)

“Now?” Amanda seemed disappointed. Was she upset that her good time had been interrupted?

“He’s like a father. Jax and I grew up together. When my dad died, he was—around.”

Jackson wasn’t going to be responsible for crashing their date, no matter how much his gut told him it felt good to put a little distance between his friend and the girl who tied his brain in knots. Or maybe it wasn’t his brain that was the problem. “It’s too late. Visiting hours are over anyway. You can stop in tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the support.”

Jackson fought a squirm as Carter focused on him. It was what a friend would do under the circumstances. Carter just didn’t understand the full extent of the circumstances. Jackson wasn’t just worried about his father but also about the fact that while he pretended to support Carter’s interest in Amanda, he secretly wanted it to fail. Carter’s shirt sleeves were rolled up to expose forearms a man worked hard to get. He wrapped one of them around Jackson’s neck and pulled him into a man-hug. “What about you, man? How are you doing?”

Jackson shrugged. “Just waiting to see how this is going to work out—they’re already pressuring me to move upstairs. As if I didn’t get enough of that already.”

“Then do it. It’s not like you can’t handle it.”

“That’s just it—they don’t think I can. They’re all expecting me to fail.” Jackson had felt the loathing in David’s words more than once, not to mention the way some of the others avoided him. The conversations sometimes implied he wasn’t good enough simply because there was an entitlement to his role. He’d gone overboard to earn his stripes and prove his worth. Yet it wasn’t enough.

“You don’t know that. You’re being paranoid.” Carter, of all people, said that? The man who trusted no one and had a phobia about honesty?

“No, just stating the truth. I have a reputation for being the playboy son. No brains and no common sense, just a legacy.”

Amanda dropped an elbow on Carter’s shoulder in a gesture of closeness. Jackson stared at the sheen of perspiration covering her arms, her neck, her face. She strung a couple of fingers through the sweat-covered tendrils of hair. “Then prove them wrong.”

“Exactly how am I supposed to do that? They’ve already made up their minds.”

She sent her eyes skyward. “God, Jackson. Do you really let everyone else make your choices for you? You and I both know you’re smarter than most of the people there and know the inner workings of your dad’s business better than almost everyone … except maybe your mom. Stop sitting back and pretending to be an idiot simply because that’s what they expect and you’re trying to fit in.”

“I want them to like me, not resent me.”

She stuck a finger in his face and Jackson stepped back. “No. You want them to respect you. That’s what’s important at the moment. It’s one thing to be the fun guy who everyone wants to go out for a beer with. It’s a totally different story to be the man they decide to rest the weight of their future on. Stop trying to fit in and be liked. You had that covered years ago and I don’t understand why it mattered anyway.”

She obviously didn’t get it, which was a surprise coming from her. She had agonized over and over again that she was the token female and always on the outside when things got dicey. “You can’t be respected if you’re not liked. They go hand in hand.”

“Bingo.” She cocked a finger and made a gun-shooting gesture. “
You
just need to start playing it in reverse and concentrate on the respect part. They’re looking for a reason to dislike you and can’t find one so they label you a party guy, a womanizer, which, by the way, you are … but we’ll pretend differently for now. When people envy someone, they look for flaws. We all have them but for some reason, we want someone else to have more. Show them what you’re really made of.”

He looked at the drink she’d set down. “How many of those have you had tonight?”

Carter had stood silently as she gave the speech. His glance shifted between his two closest friends. For Christ’s sake, could he see how much Jackson wanted to rip her clothes off at the moment? She was frickin’ gorgeous … and out of his realm. Carter patted Jackson on the back. “See, she gives you a pep talk and the first thing you do is discount it by saying she’s drunk. Go be the boss, Jax. You know you can handle it. We all know. The company needs you now more than ever.”

Jackson squinted at the haze over the stage as the band regrouped for their next song. “So does Dad.”

Was it crazy to be thankful for a quiet hospital room’s sanctuary? Being with Carter when his dad died had been brutal and the memories stayed with Jackson. The stench of antiseptic, Clorox, and some sort of cleaner they used to hide the other smells was obnoxious to a young teenager’s heightened senses. Add to that the high-emotion factor and Jackson had considered himself a trooper to spend as much time there with Carter as possible.

He had hated it but understood, thanks to his parents’ insistence, that presence was key to getting his friend back on track. On what track was a bigger question. After Carter’s sister drowned, the boy had never been the same. Anger. Sadness. Withdrawal. All things that made Jackson want to deck his friend but he didn’t. Instead he started daring him. First it was to beat him at hangman in the hospital room while his father slept between treatments. Unfortunately, Carter soon tired of it since words were Jackson’s forte and not Carter’s.

So Jackson switched to math, then after the funeral it was baseball when the summer heat set in. Carter’s mother had encouraged them to be outside as much as possible, which was easy since it forced them all to forget. His father had encouraged Jackson to stop pestering Carter all the time and let him “work through his pain.” But Jackson understood like no other. He had lost a pseudo-sibling in Carter’s sister, Carley, then a father figure that was a better role model than his own dad when Mr. Coben finally succumbed to his illness. There was no way in hell he’d let his friend take the easy way out.

So, when Carter started glancing at Kylee Williams during gym class, Jackson chose a new competition—girls. It worked. They were drawn to Carter’s looks and his mysterious moodiness but Jackson would make his best effort to draw them away with jokes and goofiness. Between the two, they were the perfect team and soon Carter returned in mind and spirit.

“Mmmm.” Robert was watching Jackson stare out the window.

“What, Dad?” Jackson searched the face that had always scared him. His father had been a demanding man with high expectations. It was ironic, considering he’d been a womanizing, walking ego. “What do you want? A drink?” Jackson reached for the plastic pitcher at the bedside.

Robert moved his head slightly to the right. That was a no, apparently.

“Are you cold? Do you want a blanket?”

Another movement, a little stronger. “Mmmm.” His father’s finger lifted off the sheet and pointed … at the television. “Mooobie.”

Jackson glanced at the screen. “Oh, a movie. You want to watch a movie? I’ll change the channel.”

Another movement. No. Okay, what the hell did he want? There was already a movie on. It was
Lord of the Rings.
“Mmmmember. Moobie.”

Ooooh, of course. “You remember, Dad? We saw this when we went to Cozumel the summer of my sophomore year in college. Is that what you mean?”

“Sssss.” Judging by the change in head movement, that was a
yes. Yes.
He remembered.
Yes.
He was talking. The man raised his finger again toward Jackson. “Sssssick.”

Oh, not a yes. “Okay, we don’t need to remember
that,
do we? Yes, I was sick. I ate enough Milk Duds to fill a dump truck and puked them all over the bathroom. Geez, couldn’t you pick something else to remember?”

“Sss … ssss … sss.” The man was—laughing? Yep, he was.

His father never laughed. In fact, that summer was probably the last time Jackson had seen mirth cross his father’s features, and of course it was all at Jackson’s expense. His father returned his gaze to the television, a weird half-smile crossing his lips.

Jackson swallowed back the lump of cotton that threatened to choke him. His dad had shown the first signs of recovery. Well, of mental recovery. Physically, his rehab had gone mediocre. He was able to step off the bed and walk a few short feet, completely unaware or unconcerned that his ass hung out of the hospital gown.

It was crazy. His dad, the man who never wore anything that wasn’t perfectly pressed, whose hair was cut every three weeks regardless of its length, and whose car had never seen a crumb from McDonald’s or a toy under the seat, didn’t seem to mind his bare butt staring them down as they followed to ensure he wouldn’t tire and fall.

Should he get him talking more? Try to weasel a few more words out? Why not?

“How far’d you walk today, Dad?”

No answer. It was worth a try.

The clip-clop of heels echoed in the hallway, growing stronger with each tap before Jackson’s mother entered the room.

“He talked, Mom.”

The clipping stopped abruptly. “What?”

“He talked.”

“What’d he say? Please tell me he didn’t mumble Ritz or something like that. I’ll deck him.” Was that a joke? She’d made humor of Robert’s infidelity? Oh, God.

“Ssss …. Ssss … ssss.” And Dad laughed.

Lynn’s mouth dropped. “Are you laughing, Robert?”

The man’s chest rose and dropped and the hissing continued until a tear trickled down his cheek. “L … L … L …”

She finished for him. “Yes, Lynn. That’s me, honey. Good job.”

Jackson’s father twitched his head to the side in the gesture that Jackson now understood as a no. “That’s not what he was going to say, Mom.”

Her shoulders sagged and Jackson wished he hadn’t been so abrupt. “How do you know?”

“That little shake there, that’s his no.”

The doctor joined them and started talking with Robert, explaining how well he’d done at rehab today, and advising that he had about another week before he could go home.

“L … l … liquor.” Dad pointed at Jackson. Huh? “Find L … l …”

The doctor laughed. “No, no liquor for a while, though it might keep the blood thin which isn’t entirely all bad. Still, it would be a disaster if you tried your rehab while plastered. Better stay off the sauce for now.”

Robert grunted and laid back.

Seriously? His father wanted a drink? Great. Some things hadn’t changed. Jackson couldn’t remember when his father had started the habit of stopping off for a drink on the way home. He only knew it had been a steady routine since he was a senior in high school. One that often appeared associated with his other routine of collecting outside female companionship.

Was it expecting too much to hope his Dad would forget all that crap?

Jackson excused himself and headed toward the office. He’d postponed the inevitable as long as it was possible, now he had to force himself to follow through on his promise to his mother. There was an impromptu board meeting in an hour that he was to attend, at which point he would advise everyone of his father’s change in health and begin educating himself on the business’s current state of affairs.

“You need to do this solo,” his mother had encouraged when he asked her to join him. Jackson thought it would be good to make it appear a team effort. “If you want them to take you seriously and understand your leadership capabilities, you have to go in there alone and take the bull by the horns. David will be there, too.”

As if
that
was comforting. David was the last person Jackson could lean on in this situation.

Jackson’s phone rang as he strode from the parking garage to the building. He opened it without looking. “How’s he doing?”

Amanda.
Warmth settled in his shoulders. “He talked today.”

“That’s gotta be good, right?”

“I thought so. Especially because he remembered something from a trip we took when I was in high school. It wasn’t just a hello or something like that. It was a memory.”

He could almost feel her smile. “Oh, that’s awesome! Does it mean he’ll be back to normal soon?”

“I wish it were that simple but no, he has a lot of physical therapy to finish, and a few words isn’t much. His vocal skills need some development.”

“Still, it could be a lot worse—thank your stars it isn’t.”

Thank his stars.
There’s a good phrase if you believe the stars portend your future.
He didn’t. Neither did he think legacy mattered in business. The most important difference in work was results and if he couldn’t get the desired results, it mattered little that his father was the founder and CEO. Results were the only thing that mattered in Dad’s recovery also. Would he be able to speak again? Would he be able to walk, drive, and make decisions?

Yes, making decisions was a biggie. Jackson had already received numerous phone calls with what seemed rudimentary questions that the caller could make without input. Had Dad always dealt with trivial matters such as the lunch menu for board meetings or the flight arrangement for sales staff? What a waste of time—not to mention lack of confidence in his staff. They were adults and could make those decisions themselves.

“Amanda, I need to ask you something.” His mind was preoccupied with the papers on his desk and he didn’t think to lead into his question with any background information.

“Yes, I’m busy this weekend but thanks for wanting to take me on that cruise… I’ve always wanted to do one.” What? Obviously, she was teasing and he felt his shoulders relax. He needed a little lighthearted humor at the moment. The mirth in her voice made him smile. “I thought maybe we could do lunch instead.”

He let a chuckle go. “I’m crushed. These tickets were expensive. I guess lunch will work, but won’t Carter mind?”

“Why should he care? It’s just lunch and not like he and I are serious. Besides I thought you’d want to know how things went the other night.”

She was right. He did, sort of, but that wasn’t the reason for the call. “Sure, and you can tell me why you said it’s my fault you left the job too.”

Crickets. Not a word came through the phone. Had she hung up?