Jagged (33 page)

“But he’s my boy,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the word
boy
. “I’ve had him since he was so little. He couldn’t even hold his head up. And he’s happy. I’ve worked hard to make him happy because I
want
him to be happy. I don’t want Xavier to hurt him. I want him to have people around him who love him. And I don’t want him to be caught up in any of Xavier’s nastiness. I don’t want scars on him like that.”

The tears glistened in her eyes as her voice dropped lower.

“I don’t want him to have scars like his mother had. I don’t want him to
survive
childhood like she did…” She pulled in a breath and shared, “Like I did. I want him to be
happy.
”

A tear slid down her cheek and Reece closed his eyes.

Probably unintentionally, Xavier had broken the cycle, giving his grandson to a woman who’d learned. A woman who couldn’t conceive. A woman who knew the precious entity she had in her hands and handled it with care.

He opened his eyes. “I’ll talk to Zara. We’ll want a meeting with Zander the minute you can arrange it. We’ll speak to our attorney about the rest of it and either Zara or our attorney, Nina Maxwell, will contact you to discuss things further with you.”

“Zander can’t wait to meet her,” she said immediately.

“She feels the same.”

“Tell her…” She lifted her hands to her face for a second before she dropped them. “Please, Mr. Reece, tell her that it wasn’t my decision to keep him away from her. I would have gone to her but I didn’t think…” She trailed off.

She was right not to think Zara would be receptive to a visit. Zara was not a fan of either of her aunts. But times apparently were changing.

And Reece was fucking glad she didn’t. This was news he wanted to share.

“I think she’s got a pretty clear understanding of how her father works, Mizz Cinders. But I’ll tell her.”

She nodded.

He turned to leave her.

“Mr. Reece?” she called.

He heaved a heavy sigh and turned back.

“Thank you.”

Fuck him. She meant that.

And she meant it deeply.

Reece nodded.

She looked up the stairs as if seeing them she could see Zara, tell the future, understand how she’d react.

Then she moved away.

Reece watched her go.

Then he jogged up the steps.

* * *

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God, God,
God,
” Zara chanted as Reece stood in his sweaty workout clothes and watched her dancing around their living room, her soft hair bouncing, her face lit with a massive smile.

Needless to say, she took all that day’s news better than he did.

She stopped, whirled, dashed to him, and halted abruptly so she could slap her hands so hard on his chest he had to swallow a grunt.

“Zander wants to meet me!”
she shrieked in his face, then threw her arms around him, also throwing her body at him. She did this so he had to go back on a foot so they didn’t topple down.

He wrapped his arms around her, noting with little surprise her priority in dancing around in joy was her nephew, not the fact that she was a millionaire.

Before he could say a word, she jumped away, breaking from his arms, and cried, “Oh God! I need a new outfit!”

Reece felt his lips curve into a smile.

Jesus.

Women.

“Not sure a nine-year-old boy’ll care what you wear, cookie,” he told her.

She shook her head and started pacing, declaring, “I have to go to the mall.” She whirled on him again. “Immediately!”

“Maybe you should let me call this new shit in to Nina before you head to the mall.”

He wished he could eat those words when her face instantly fell.

“Do you think Aunt Wilona will renege?” she asked.

“No. The woman I spoke to would lay her life down for that boy. But your father is unpredictable.”

“Then we need to do this on the hush-hush,” she stated and he grinned.

“That’d be good. So you be good. Don’t go spreadin’ word around town with all your girls. Don’t fly off to the mall and buy a meet-with-Zander outfit. Your dad’s investigatin’ me. We already know that. We don’t know what else he’s up to. He could have someone watchin’. He might even already know about that meet I just had with your aunt outside. We just got a couple of huge breaks. You need to play it cool.”

She nodded, her head bobbing vigorously. “I can be cool.”

She was totally not going to be cool.

“Arlene’s out,” he told her and she scrunched up her nose.

“This is true. Arlene has a big mouth,” she agreed.

“Inner circle, babe. Nina only until she sorts shit out and you get a sit-down with that boy. We do not want to tip our hand that we know about that money or it might disappear. We do not want to set your father into doin’ somethin’ stupid that’ll hurt Zander if he knows Wilona made an approach. The more people who know, the more chance word will spread even if folks don’t mean any harm. We keep this under our hats. And that means more than keepin’ it from Arlene.”

She again nodded.

“Now I’m gonna call this in to Nina. Then I’m gonna take a shower. Then we’ll celebrate this shit private-like in a way no one will know.”

She nodded again but this time with a huge smile on her face, but asked, “Can I make an alternate suggestion?”

“Give it to me,” he invited.

“We could speed up the celebration. I take a shower with you.”

That was when Reece smiled.

Then he muttered, “You’re on.”

Then he braced because she again flew at him, and landed in his arms. He had to take another step back to keep them from falling. Her hand slid up into the back of his hair, pressing down, and her mouth found his.

Which meant their plans were derailed.

They celebrated on the living room floor.

Then he called Nina.

After that, they celebrated again in the shower.

Two days later…

“Calm, cookie,” Reece muttered.

We were sitting in a booth at The Mark, both on one side. I was fidgeting, a ginger ale in front of me, my eyes glued to the door.

Aunt Wilona had not reneged.

Ham called Nina, Nina called Aunt Wilona, and the meeting was set up.

And it was set up for that day after school, or as soon as Aunt Wilona could drive Zander there after school. We were meeting at The Mark for mile-high mud pies.

After a life that was so far from a dream it wasn’t funny, this was yet another dream come true.

I’d had time to buy a new outfit, and since Nina was the only one Ham allowed me to talk to about all this, she’d gone to the mall with me. So I was wearing a new berry-red sweater, Lucky jeans, a killer belt, and a pair of high-heeled boots that were so expensive, even back in the day when things were good in the shop, I would never have even looked at them.

But now I was going to be a millionaire.

Since her impromptu meeting with Ham, Nina had actually looked at Grandpa Val’s will and she said it would take an act of God to break it. This was her professional opinion, of course, but she had added evidence, seeing as she’d also discovered from court papers that all three of Grandpa’s offspring had tried to do that at the time Grandpa died and they’d all lost.

Unfortunately, after this battle was fought, the executor of the will, one of Grandpa’s cronies, had taken a trip to the Pearly Gates. For some reason now lost with him, he’d not set the money up in trust and he’d not made provisions for his demise, so there was no one official to keep track of the money and Dad had jumped on that, taking control of it.

To keep Aunt Wilona’s mouth shut, he eventually gave her Zander and the money to keep him.

But to keep Aunt Dahlia’s mouth shut, he’d just given her money.

Money Nina was making moves to get back, either from Dad, whose money it wasn’t to give, and if that didn’t work, she was going after Aunt Dahlia, seeing as she knew this was ill-gotten gains and she accepted it anyway.

So, although Nina shared that it might be tied up while all the legal stuff was handled, I’d eventually get it.

She’d done what she had to do and, tomorrow, those accounts would be frozen until the legal issues were settled.

Therefore, since I was eventually going to be a millionaire, I could afford Zander’s school
and
an expensive pair of boots.

I knew Ham thought I was insane, me being hell-bent to buy a new outfit to meet my nephew in. I knew this because he was wearing a wine-colored shirt I’d seen him wear more than once since he’d been back and his standard faded jeans that were so broken in, they looked like they’d been bought around the dawn of time.

Still, he looked great, like always, even if his outfit wasn’t new.

But to me, that day I’d be meeting my nephew.

And my nephew would be meeting the only good part that was left of his mother.

So I had to do it right. For Zander.

And for Xenia.

“I know you’re excited, baby,” Ham started and I tore my eyes away from the door to look at him. “But you gotta pay attention, all right?”

I nodded.

He kept going.

“Decisions to be made, big ones for Zander. Your aunt’s right. He grew up with her. Tearin’ him from his home. The woman who raised him. You gotta have a good reason to do that. But she’s a Cinders and she might give you one. So you got any bad feelin’ about him, you clock it, we talk about it, we share it with Nina, and we make our plans. Yeah?”

We’d already discussed the plan, at length, and I was down with the plan so I nodded again.

“She’s fuckin’ him up, though, don’t ’spect she’d walk him right to you. Also don’t ’spect this first meeting will expose if shit’s not good. This has gotta go good so we can get another meet without her there. So you play it cool.”

“I’ll play it cool, Ham,” I assured him, still fidgeting, moving my ass in the seat nervously, unsure what to do with my hands, all this saying my words were a lie.

Seeing as Ham didn’t miss much, that would be, he didn’t miss
anything,
he didn’t miss this. So he turned fully to me, grabbed both my hands in both of his, and pulled them to his chest.

Then he declared, “No one, man, woman, or child would not love you, Zara.”

At his words, I went completely still.

After I let them sweep through me, I whispered, “Again, awesome…
er.
”

He grinned.

I heard the door open and my eyes shot to it.

Ham let me go and turned away but I sat there, hands still raised where he’d released them, staring at Aunt Wilona and the blond-haired boy in front of her wearing a private-school uniform and craning his neck to look around.

My heart started hammering so fast, so hard, if I could pull my eyes away from my nephew and look down, I would have sworn I’d see it beating in my chest.

But I couldn’t tear my eyes away so I saw Aunt Wilona put a hand to Zander’s shoulder and point our way.

His eyes came to our table.

I held my breath.

He smiled, then bopped toward us with nine-year-old-kid exuberance.

Ham slid out and I slid out after him so I was on my feet when Zander came to a halt two feet in front of me.

“Jeez, you look like me,” he declared.

I felt my eyes sting.

“Yep,” I replied.

His eyes went to Ham and his head tipped way back.

“Whoa, you’re, like,
really
tall,” he remarked.

“That I am, boy,” Ham stated.

“Zander, honey, this is your Aunt Zara and your, um… I guess, your uncle, uh…” Aunt Wilona stammered.

“Reece,” Ham grunted.

“What kind of name is Reece?” Zander asked.

“It’s my last name,” Ham answered.

“What’s your first name?” Zander went on.

“Graham,” Ham replied.

“Don’t you call yourself Graham?” Zander queried.

“Would you call yourself Graham?” Ham returned.

Zander grinned.

My heart flipped.

“Nope,” Zander said.

“So you get me,” Ham noted.

“Yep,” Zander agreed.

“Why don’t we sit down?” I butted in. “Get you a drink and something good to eat.”

“Cool,” Zander muttered and scrambled into the other side of the booth.

I watched and then my eyes went to Aunt Wilona. She was looking at Zander then she looked at me. I nodded and gave her a small smile. She returned the gesture.

After that, we all piled in.

Once we were settled, Zander launched in.

And he did it looking at me.

“Okay, so, I forgot to bring my clothes to school to change but I wanted to get here so I told Nona to just come here and that’s why I’m wearin’ this,” he stated, flipping his hand in front of him. “I go to a school where they make you wear uniforms.”

He was excited to meet us.

My heart squeezed.

“I know,” I replied.

“The girls hate it ’cause they can’t wear fingernail polish or different shoes but I don’t mind much,” he shared.

“Well, that’s good,” I told him.

He kept chattering. “Nona says girls that age shouldn’t wear fingernail polish anyway and ’spose she’s right, but really, it’s the older girls who’re always whinin’ about it. The school goes from first grade to twelfth,” he stated proudly, then added, “Though, first to fifth is in one building. Sixth through eighth in another and the high school is all the way across the way so we don’t see them much except at assemblies. Still, I hear the high school girls complaining about nail polish, even at assemblies.” He paused, then finished with, “The older kids talk a lot during assemblies.”

“They probably shouldn’t do that,” I remarked.

“Nah, they shouldn’t,” he agreed. “But they’re better at it. They’ve learned to talk quiet so they don’t get into trouble.”

“Well, uh…” I trailed off, not knowing what to say to that.

Zander didn’t need a response. He kept right on yammering.

“What I don’t get is, who cares about fingernail polish? I mean, is it that important?”

“I’m thinking that at nine you probably shouldn’t tax yourself to try to understand the female mind,” I advised and he grinned at me.