An only child, Jake had always wanted a brother or sister, but he hadn’t planned on getting one when he was twenty-eight. Still, Brianna was a cutie and had quickly wrapped her big brother around her little finger.
Jake didn’t see her as often as he would have liked for several reasons. For one thing, his business ventures kept him busy. And for another, he tried to avoid Desiree whenever he could.
Desiree broached him about it a couple of times, implying she wanted to be on friendlier terms, but even after he’d gotten over the shock of his father’s second marriage, he just couldn’t bring himself to accept his new stepmother as a part of the family.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the hospital spokeswoman added.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
When the line disconnected, Jake continued to grip the receiver as though he could somehow gain control of everything that had slipped out of his hands—first his father’s marriage and then his death.
And now this.
Jake had never liked Desiree. Of course, if truth be told, he’d never given her a chance, even though his father had repeatedly asked him to. But how could he when the young woman had married his old man for money?
The proof came when she hightailed it to an attorney to amend the trust the day after Gerald Braddock’s funeral.
On Jake’s part, the issue had little to do with greed. He’d been successful in his own right. He also held fifty-one percent of the stock in Braddock Enterprises, a Dallas company that oversaw various oil and petroleum-related business ventures. He didn’t like to boast, but the value of each share had nearly doubled since he’d taken the helm.
So it wasn’t the money he was after. Jake just didn’t like the idea that his father had been hoodwinked by a woman who didn’t fit into his social sphere. A woman who’d convinced him to spend more time at the ranch and less in the city, where he had a spacious, luxury home that was much closer to the office.
Of course, Desiree had absolutely no class when it came to high-society expectations, so it was no wonder his dad had gravitated toward the ranch and started playing cowboy, even though he was in his sixties.
He was also playing daddy, a small voice reminded him. And doing a better job of it the second time around.
Jake’s thoughts immediately turned to Brianna, to the orphan who needed him to step up to the plate and play daddy now.
But he didn’t know where to find her.
He could hire a P.I., but a call to Desiree’s attorney might provide an immediate answer. He pulled out the phone book and thumbed through the pages until he found a number for Brian Willoughby, Esquire.
A receptionist answered and, when he told her why he’d called, she put him on hold.
Seconds later, the attorney came on the line. “Hello, Mr. Braddock. I’ve been expecting your call.”
Yeah, well, it looked like everyone in the world knew about Desiree’s cancer—everyone but Jake. And the whole sorry, rotten mess put him in a foul mood. Hell, he’d felt better when he’d only had a hangover to deal with.
“I was sorry to hear that Desiree passed away,” Willoughby added.
He’d already heard? The pounding in Jake’s head grew more insistent. “How did you find out about her death so soon?”
“Ms. Haskell called a few moments ago.”
Jake had the urge to hurl the telephone receiver across the room. Who the hell was that woman?
“Fortunately,” Willoughby said, “Desiree took utmost care in dealing with the legalities.”
“That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” Jake figured she’d been itching to get her hands on the money and take control of the company the moment she stepped foot on that cruise ship and scoped out Gerald Braddock.
Damn. He still couldn’t fathom the two of them together.
“Desiree was a courageous woman,” Willoughby said. “And strong. I came to admire her a great deal.”
“Well, since you seem to have such a clear understanding and appear to be more aware of what’s going on than I am, tell me where I can find my sister.”
“She’s in San Diego with Ms. Haskell. And from what I understand, she’s doing as well as can be expected.”
“If you’d be so kind as to give me an address, I’ll get a flight out today and pick her up.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Jake bristled. “What are you talking about?”
“Desiree has left temporary custody of Brianna to Ms. Haskell, at least until the will is read. However, there are a few stipulations and particulars I need to discuss with both of you at the reading regarding joint custody. And unfortunately, I’m not available until Friday morning. Ms. Haskell said that works for her. I hope it fits your schedule, too. Otherwise, we’ll have to postpone our meeting until next week.”
“I’d rather not put this off any longer than necessary.” Jake was already reaching for his Blackberry, eager to call in his own attorney. No, make that an entire law firm. This was crap. And he would contest the will at the top of his legal lungs.
The fact that Desiree had expected people from two different states to share custody of a child ready to enter kindergarten suggested that her mental state had been fading toward the end. The legal dream team he was about to put together ought to have a heyday with that issue and use it to put a stop to all of this pretty damn quick.
Jake didn’t have a problem sharing the estate with Brianna, but he wouldn’t share control with anyone else—especially a friend of his stepmother.
“Do you have a telephone number or an address for that woman?” he asked.
“You mean Ms. Haskell?”
“Yeah.” Jake grabbed a pen and scratched out 146 Tahiti Circle, Bayside, California. “I thought she was in San Diego.”
“From what I understand, that’s a suburb.”
Then, when Willoughby recited her number, he jotted it down, even though he had no intention of calling.
He was going to fly to California as soon as possible. Brianna lost her father last year and her mother today. She needed to be with family, with someone who loved her.
And that someone was her big brother, Jake.
Chloe Haskell hadn’t been to the park in nearly ten years and wished she’d come sooner.
There was something liberating about swinging back and forth like a child again, allowing the summer breeze to muss her hair. She supposed there were some who would criticize a grown woman for enjoying herself in a playground, but Chloe couldn’t care less. She was doing this for Brianna—and for the woman who should have been swinging beside the child instead.
“Let’s go all the way up to Heaven,” Brianna said.
If only they could.
Desiree had been a wonderful mother, a devoted friend.
Brianna must miss her terribly.
Chloe missed her, too. She and Desiree had been more like sisters than friends, even though they hadn’t seen each other as often as they should have.
In retrospect, Chloe wished that she had taken time for personal visits to Dallas, but in her defense, she’d been busy, first attending college, then opening her own business. So the two women had kept in contact via long phone calls and e-mails.