Cancelled (2 page)

Johnathan sighed audibly into the phone as the
poor me
song and dance continued. Any other morning he might listen, but today he had his own problems.

“Tell Jenn to call me. I'll help her with those scam schools. And I'll put $200 on the grocery card I sent her." He counted his pairs of socks in the suitcase before moving onto raiding his T-shirt drawer. "We have a few older laptops at work we're replacing. I'll set one aside for Nate.”

“I heard things were going well at work.”

“Where did you hear that?” He sat down on the edge of his naked mattress and held the phone, a halt to packing with it squeezed between his ear and shoulder.

“I have my sources.” His mother paused, but Johnathan didn't bite. “Anna mentioned you landed a big-time contract." When he still remained silent, she used her whining voice again. "Can't you spare just a few hundred? That would really help me get everything back on track. I could pay the rent, give the kids a nice Christmas...”

Johnathan popped up from the bed and paced from one end of the room to his closet on the far side. Why in the hell was Anna talking to Nancy?

“No.” Johnathan tried to quiet his voice before losing control of his temper. “I help my brother and sisters. That's it. I won't pay for your drinking while Jenn plays Mom to Ava and Nathaniel cuts himself off from the world.” Johnathan's breathing became ragged. His face warmed from the blood rush.

“God, you're just like your father. Tight-fisted bastard. Leaving me with nothing but the bills and the babies.”

“Don't talk about Dad. You don't have the right." Johnathan forced his breath out and squinted his eyes closed for a moment. "Is that why you called Anna? Because you're broke, again?” Four years and still his mother wanted a piece of Daniel Michaels' estate.

“Boy, don't take that tone with me. I gave you life. Remember that. That money is
owed
to me. You're getting yourself into things you know nothing about.”

“You aren't owed squat. Anna is his widow. Everything rightfully went to her.”

“Rightfully?” Nancy snorted. “Did she have any children with him? What right does she have to mess with my child support?”

“Child support? What?" Johnathan knew his mother was crazy, but not delusional. "No. You know what? I don't care.”

He zipped his suitcases and carried them to the door. The taxi would be here any minute. He didn't have time for crap that happened years ago when he left to live with Dad and Anna. “I have to go. I'll take care of what I can and call you when I get back from France. Leave Anna alone, Mom. If you need something, call me.”

Nancy began to argue with her ungrateful son again when Johnathan pressed END.

A black Mercedes slipped through the crowded Parisian streets where lanes didn't exist. Wired, Johnathan jerked in time with the driver's erratic steering. Anna hadn't waited at the airport to meet him. She had sent a car.

He vaguely recognized the arrondissement around him. This hotel wasn't their usual spot, but Anna wanted to try a new place in the opera district. She had a thing for Andrew Lloyd Weber.

He checked his voicemail. Still no word from Eric, which made him wonder if he was still partying, or sitting in jail somewhere. Alex would call him if Eric needed bail money. Again. Waiting for the concierge to take his luggage, he fought with the uniformed man about keeping his messenger bag.

“L'ordinateur portable reste avec moi.” Gigabytes of proprietary information on his hard drive meant his laptop rarely left his sight.

“Je Pardonnez-moi, voir. Je vois.” The man bowed slightly and retreated from Johnathan.

“Merci.” Johnathan pressed a pair of two Euro coins into his hand, accompanied by a curt nod. The man was just doing his job.

While glancing up and down the street for landmarks to find the hotel later, his phone buzzed with a new message:

MEET IN LOUNGE FOR LUNCH. ALREADY ORDERED.

Severely jet-lagged, eating didn't sound appetizing. The smell of French cooking corrected his body's confusion.

Anna rose from a four-top as Johnathan and she simultaneously spotted the other. Another patron, a man who looked about her age, remained seated. A Pilates obsession made Anna Kilroy Michaels look better at forty-two than most women ten to fifteen years younger. A wildly printed red fabric draped her perfectly without looking difficult to move in. The dress brought attention to new red tones in her usual chin length brown hair.

The two surviving Michaels family members crashed into a tight hug. Chunky bracelets clattered behind Johnathan's head as her arms squeezed around his shoulders. Anna held him out for an inspection, like he was still a kid who forgot to clean his ears.

“Johnathan, you look fantastic." She released his arms and smiled. Johnathan pulled out his stepmother's chair for her to return to the table before sitting across from her. "How was the trip?”

“Couldn't sleep. After celebrating with Eric last night, I almost didn't make the plane.” Johnathan laughed and turned to look at Anna's companion. Anna followed his gaze.

“Dr. William Finley. He teaches Art History at American,” she said.

The man in an ordinary navy blazer and beige turtleneck offered to shake Johnathan's hand over the table. “Please, call me Buck.”

“Buck it is, then.” Johnathan couldn't help raising an eyebrow at Anna. If this man taught at American University, it would be an awfully strong coincidence that they'd met on a plane to Paris. Possible, but not probable.

The prix fixe lunches arrived pausing further conversation. Anna had ordered Johnathan the terrine with a side of cold asparagus. The flavors zinged his taste buds with lemony undertones. Sipping his wine, he prepared to question Anna.

“Buck the reason you weren't at the airport?" Johnathan watched his stepmother hide a guilty smile. "How did you two meet?” He continued to cut his terrine with his knife, staring intently as Buck smashed his entire lunch with his fork. Buck's knife remained pristine upon the table.

“That's my fault, John. I convinced Anna here to do a little last minute Christmas shopping. By the time we finished up, we couldn't make it in time.” Buck answered for Anna, still chewing part of his meal. The two shared a smile.

Johnathan didn't need clarification; the situation was obvious. He'd been looking forward to his annual vacation with his stepmother. An overseas trip was a Michaels' family tradition, yet he was little more than a third wheel. He felt embarrassed.

“Buck's a good friend. He hasn't visited the Louvre in over twenty years. I just had to ask him to tag along,” Anna explained, giving Johnathan a sugar-coated version of events.

A waiter replaced Johnathan's empty lunch plate with a salad. Stabbing the fresh greens, he kept his response to himself. He checked his scowl quickly when Buck started talking again, but not quickly enough to escape The Look from Anna.

“Since you asked, I met this enchanting woman at an annual graphics design conference." Buck pushed his messy plate away from him so it rested next to Johnathan. "I don't normally attend those types of things, but the dean encourages us to adopt more marketable skills into the curriculum.”

Johnathan recognized the conference he referred to; The Consortium was back in August. Anna had invited him attend as she was the top-tier guest speaker, but work had been jammed with the buggy Rohmler prototype. Anna was a goddess in the graphic design world. Her designs were digital masterpieces back when most of the world was still using clip art.

“Did Anna ever tell you what made her switch from painter to graphic designer? My father was a software developer. She developed the GUI icons for him.”

Anna shifted in her chair slightly away from Buck at the mention of her late husband. “Inspiration runs in the family. My laundry sorter suggestion for a robotics contest won Johnathan a scholarship to Virginia Tech. My late husband and I were so proud of him. I still am.”

Buck and Anna shared another smile, making Johnathan want to vomit. He was equally repulsed by his own visceral reaction and the gooey-eyes the two had for one another. This was going to be a long two weeks.

“Excuse me, but I need to get a shower and a quick nap. Been flying for over ten hours.” Johnathan returned Buck's eager chuckling with a stern stare. He stopped impatiently at the front desk for his key and made his way to the fourth floor.

Thirty minutes later, a soft knock preceded a click in his room's digital lock. Anna marched in with aplomb and stared at her stepson lying fully clothed on his bed, his arms folded behind his head.

“How could you be so rude?”

“Like bringing me along on your romantic getaway without any warning?” Johnathan didn't look at her. He remained fixed on the haphazardly repaired ceiling above him, studying the slightest hint of a water mark.

“You brought Madeline to Ireland last year.”

“Because you wanted to meet her!” Last year was a complete disaster, ending with an expensive change fee when his girlfriend wanted to fly home early. Apparently, any international trip after dating for six months guaranteed a proposal. Or so he was informed.

Anna pursed her lips. “I thought you'd be happy for me.”

Johnathan sighed and lifted himself into a more dignified position. He stretched his right arm to pull a beer out of the mini-fridge next to the bed. “I am. Dad's been gone for awhile. You deserve to be in love again.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Do you love him?” He felt like a petulant child when Anna laughed. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't. Or maybe he was–jealous he couldn't find love just once and she was getting love twice.

“I'm in lust.” They both laughed. Nothing was going to change, Johnathan knew that. But what were this guy's intentions? Two years after Dad's accident, Anna sold her graphic arts company. Anna retired, became independently wealthy, and now traveled the world. Her stepson's greatest fear was some asshole would clean her out.

“You need the safe-sex spiel? VD doesn't care how old you are...” Johnathan poked fun at his stepmother, echoing words he had heard far too often from her. She took a swift step forward and punched him in the arm.

“Don't get cute.”

Johnathan faked pain for half a second. Giving up, he pulled his computer out of his bag and opened it on the desk. He rummaged around for an adapter to charge his electronic companions.

“What about you?” she asked.

Johnathan grinned as he clicked on his email inbox and three messages were from [email protected]. “I need to convince her I'm the one.”

“Alexis.”

Johnathan spun around in the desk chair and stared at his stepmother's shadowy form. Anna chuckled at his best impression of a mounted bass fish. “Oh please, you've been a love-sick puppy over her for years. Eric, too. It was always a question of when Alexis would be ready to settle down,” she said.

Returning to his computer, Johnathan disliked Anna's mention of Eric. He knew pursuing Alex could result in a disaster, but he didn't care. Love was more important than friendship. More important than money.

Anna interrupted Johnathan's glare at the computer screen by walking past him. Elizabeth Taylor's
Diamonds and Sapphires
lingered in the air. She stopped just before she opened the door.

“I'll let you get cleaned up. Dinner's at eight.” The door clicked behind her.

“Dinner with Buck. Fucking fantastic,” Johnathan said to a closed door. He turned his attention back to the email. The first one wished him a safe and happy trip, including links to stores and items Alex would be happy to receive. He grinned at her prima donna demands. The next email was a dressing-down of him and Eric for renting a limo Friday night from the car service. The last email asked if he knew where Eric and the limo were because she was trying to smooth everything over with the car rental company.

Johnathan typed back his response.

Alex-

Sorry about limo. Was pretty out of it Friday night. I can't get a hold of him either. When you find him, tell him to call me. Doesn't the car company have GPS on their cars? Paris is great, Santa will get started on your list. Will have plenty of free time, Anna brought a boyfriend. Professor from back home. Keep me posted about Hedis.

J.

After clicking send, Johnathan set the alarm clock to give him three hours of sleep before he would shower and change for dinner. Clothing removed, he pulled the over-advertised down comforter off the bed. He slid beneath the cool sheet, his mind racing about Friday night. He ignored all thoughts about Eric and the missing, probably trashed, limousine. Instead he focused on Alexis.

He remembered the extra long birthday hug and how her hair smelled like flowers and hairspray. There was something uncomfortable between them, he could feel it. Unable to fight his exhaustion any longer, he gave in to sleep dreaming about holding her in his arms, not a hotel pillow.

2

“
N
o, I completely understand, Bob. I agree 14% over budget is a very serious problem," Alexis Rodriguez said loudly for the speaker phone to pick up her voice.

"I'm glad we're on the same page there. I need to know what AJE is going to do about it," Bob Winter, project manager for Hedis Aeronautics, said.

"I have a solution.” Alex nervously clicked her fingernails against one another, hoping this would work. Saving the Hedis contract was not what she expected to deal with on the first day back after Christmas. She glared at Eric who stood with his arms crossed, offering nothing.

“I'm all ears. Give me something I can take back to my bosses,” Bob replied.

“Let me call our other main engineer off vacation. I'll get him here by Friday and see what he can come up with over the holiday weekend. He's been a part of this project from the beginning, so it won't take much to get him up to speed.” Alex prayed this would work.

“That Johnathan?”

“Yes, the company's founder. If anyone can reign the project back in, it's him.”

The speaker phone remained quiet for a few moments, but Alex could hear faint whispering.