'Tis the Season (29 page)

Charles II went still, and the color drained from his weathered face. “You don't mean that.”

“I sure as hell do,” Charles replied. He crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance. “I'm done being your pawn. You've told me what to do my whole life, and made me think I should be grateful for the privilege. When I was younger, I didn't know any better. But I'm done. I don't want to end up like you.” His blood zipped through his veins, the years of pent-up anger flowing furiously and making words fly from his mouth. His hands itched to throw something, and he raked them through his hair. “I won't do this anymore. It's a fucking nightmare, and I'm out.”

“You can't . . .” Charles II rubbed his chest and coughed. “You can't just quit the family.”

“I'm not quitting the family,” Charles said. “But in case you haven't noticed, they've all quit
you
.”

Charles II rubbed his chest again, then gripped his upper left arm.

“The poison, the resentment, the nastiness,” Charles said. “It stops here. It ends now. At least, for me. I'm quitting the company, and I'm going to spend time with my children and have a better life. Fuck Harrison Enterprises, and fuck you too.”

Charles II fell to his knees, eyes bulging, seizing his chest and gasping for air. “It hurts . . .”

“Dad?” Panic slammed Charles, and he rushed to his father, grabbing his father's shoulders and looking into his widened eyes. “Jesus Christ, Dad, if this is a joke, it's not funny.”

Charles II fell to the floor, clutching his chest and wincing. His face was white now, but he was sweating. “Tripp . . .”

“Holy shit.” With shaking hands, Charles wrenched his cell phone out of his pocket and called 911, holding his father's head in his lap. “Hold on, Dad. Just hold on.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Charles rode with his unconscious father in the ambulance, terror and guilt choking him. He'd caused his father to have a heart attack. The self-loathing was all consuming.

The past half hour was a blur. He'd yelled for help, and Eileen had come running from the kitchen. Only now did he realize Lisette had likely kept the kids downstairs, away from the chaos, away from the chilling sight of their powerful grandfather lying on the floor, from the jolt of seeing an ambulance roaring up the drive and strange men wheeling in a stretcher . . .

Watching as the EMTs worked on his father, he called his brothers and sister with the news. The ambulance got to Northwell Hospital quickly, and his father was rushed into the ER. By the time Charles had sat down in a private waiting room, Tess burst through the doors. She flew at him, almost tackling him with her hug. Then she grasped his face in her hands and looked into his eyes. “Listen to me, Charles. This is not your fault.”

Charles felt sick to his stomach. “Yes, it is, Tess. I told you. We fought; I quit the company—”

“He had that coming,” Tess said. “But the heart attack is
not
your fault.”

“You say that now,” Charles said gruffly. “What if he dies?”

“He's not going to die,” Tess said. “He's the toughest, most ornery man on the planet. Like Pierce always says, the mean ones live the longest.”

“Well, he looked very frail on the floor of my foyer,” Charles murmured. He pulled away, but took her hand and brought her to sit with him on one of the couches. “Pierce is on his way. Dane's coming from the city, so who knows when he'll get here, but he's coming.”

“Okay, good.” She dropped her head on Charles's shoulder. “Wow, Pierce is coming. I'm shocked.”

“I think he's doing it to support us, not for Dad,” Charles said. “I don't care. Just glad he'll be here.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, holding hands and trying not to worry.

“Hey . . .” Tess lifted her head and shifted so she could look at him better. “What were you and Dad fighting about? What started it?”

Charles blew out a huff of air and shook his head. “Not now. Please.”

“Yes, now. Tell me.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the stubble there. He hadn't shaved that morning . . . His morning at the Waldorf with Lisette seemed like weeks ago now.

“Tell me,” Tess insisted.

“He came to the house to confront Lisette.” Charles snorted out a laugh at the horrified expression on his sister's face. “He found out she was my date last night, and I think he tried to make her leave.”

Tess's mouth dropped open. “Please be kidding.”

“Nope. He wanted her away from me before she could steal my fortune and mess with my life.” He scratched his head absently. “Needless to say, I lost my shit. Big time. He did too. We went at it, and it got ugly.”

“I don't know what's happened to him these past few years,” Tess lamented. “He's just gotten so . . .”

“Sociopathic?” Charles offered. “Bitter? Twisted? Controlling?”

“Well, he was always controlling,” Tess said.

Charles chuckled. “Well played.” He rose from the couch and crossed the room to the water cooler. “Want some?”

“Sure, thanks.” Tess waited until he came back with the cups of water and sat down before she ventured, “How'd Lisette handle him?”

“She looked mad as hell, and also freaked out. She's with the kids now. I didn't even get to talk to her about it.” Charles sighed. It'd been one hit after another . . .

The doors swung open, and Pierce entered the waiting room. He kissed Tess on the top of her head, then sat on the couch opposite them and crossed his long legs. His eyes swept over his brother in a quick surveillance. “You okay?”

“No,” Charles said.

“You will be,” Pierce said. “It'll all be all right.”

“Thank you for coming,” Tess said.

“I came for
you
,” Pierce said. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Just the three of you.”

“We know,” she said with a warm smile.

Dane arrived half an hour later. “Sorry, guys. Traffic was a bitch. Any news?”

“Not yet,” Tess murmured.

Dane dropped into a chair and looked at Charles. “Hey. Chuckles. Snap out of it. This isn't your fault.”

“I already tried,” Tess said. “He's beating himself up too much to listen.”

“I said some terrible things, and he dropped at my feet.” Charles looked around at them. “How is this not my fault?”

“Because,” Pierce said, “despite how Dad has always acted, you're not God.”

All of them grinned in spite of themselves.

“And,” Pierce continued, “knowing the players here? He probably deserved whatever you said. You've rarely given him shit, much less fought hard with him, so it was long overdue if you ask me.”

“Agreed,” Dane said. “Every word.”

“Was it about Lisette?” Pierce asked.

“Initially, yes.” Charles said. “Then it turned into everything I've been holding in for the last, ohhh, forty years. I really snapped.”

“I would've paid good money to see that,” Pierce quipped.

Tess took Charles's hands and squeezed. He sighed deeply. “My brain must be on overload, because at the moment, I just feel kind of numb.”

“Chuckles. Listen to me.” Dane leaned in on his elbows and held his brother's gaze. “Dad's going to make it and be fine. Everything's going to be fine.”

“I hope so,” Charles murmured.

“It will be,” Tess said, smiling. “Listen to Dane; he's right.” She kissed her brother's cheek.

“Whatever happens,” Dane said, “we support you. We're here for you, man.”

“Absolutely,” Pierce chimed in.

Charles looked around at his siblings. He was so lucky to have them, and he knew it. “Thank you all. Really. It means a lot.”

The doors opened, and two doctors still in green scrubs entered. “Mr. Harrison?”

All three brothers stood up.

“We're all his children,” Charles explained. “Is he . . . ?”

“He's alive,” the first doctor said. “But he's critical. He's had a massive heart attack, and he needs surgery as soon as possible. We're just getting him stabilized first.”

“What kind of surgery?” Tess asked, rising to stand with her brothers.

“Triple bypass. Are any of you authorized to sign off on that for him?”

“I am,” Charles said quietly. “How ironic is that.”

The doctors discussed the risks with the four of them, but they all agreed it was the necessary course of action. As soon as Charles II was stable enough, the doctors would do the surgery. He'd remain in ICU until that happened, hopefully within a few hours.

“I'm staying,” Tess said when the doctors left. “I'll camp out right here on this couch and stay the night if it comes to that. But I'm not going home until he's stable and has gotten through the surgery.”

“I'll stay with you, then,” Dane said. “Let me just call Julia and let her know, and check in at work.” Removing his phone from his jacket pocket, he went to the far side of the room to make some calls.

“I'll call Abby,” Pierce said quietly. “And order us a pizza, if we're stuck here. Because if you're all staying, I am too.”

Charles squeezed Pierce's shoulder, then took out his phone. He tried Lisette twice, but she didn't pick up. Unwilling to wait for a response to a text, he called the main line at the house, and Eileen answered. “Mr. Harrison!” she exclaimed. “How's your father? Is he all right?”

“Still alive. He's critical and going into surgery in a few hours. Thank you for asking.” Charles sighed. “They're trying to stabilize him so he can have an emergency triple bypass.”

“Oh, dear Lord. I'll pray for him, sir.”

“Thank you.” He leaned against the wall, glancing around at his siblings in brief amusement at how all four of them were in different corners, all on their cell phones. “Listen, I wanted to let you know, and thank you again for everything you did at the house. But I need to talk to Lisette, please. She didn't pick up her cell. I thought maybe she's busy with the kids? I need her to know I'm going to be staying here at the hospital until my father is stable. If that means I'm here overnight, so be it. But I—”

“Mr. Harrison . . .” Eileen cut him off, sounding hesitant. “Lisette's not here.”

“What's up?” Charles frowned, and an intuitive hum of alarm flamed in his core.

“Well, Vanessa's here now, and she's with the children. I am too, sir, and I'll stay tonight for as long as you need me to.”

His body tensed. “Where's Lisette?”

“I don't know, sir,” Eileen said. “She left an hour ago. With suitcases. Said she's taking some of the vacation time she's never used. Don't worry, she didn't leave without making sure the children were cared for. I'll be here, and so will Tina, in the morning. And, um . . . when Vanessa arrived, she and Lisette . . . had a brief argument. So Lisette said Vanessa could finally mother her children without interference from her.”

Charles wanted to punch the wall. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“The children are fine, sir,” Eileen said hurriedly. “Lisette made sure of that before she left. She'd never shirk her responsibilities to them. But she's gone.”

Charles could barely breathe and wondered if he'd have a heart attack himself. How had everything gotten so out of control in such a short time? “Where did she go, do you know?”

“She didn't tell me that, sir. And she took a cab when she left.” Eileen sighed again, heavily this time. “She said good-byes to the children. Told them she'd be spending the holiday with some of her family this year, and she'd be back some time after Christmas.” Eileen cleared her throat. “And she left a letter for you.”

“A letter?!?” Charles felt as if the world had gone insane. “I—I have no idea when I'll be home . . . Listen, I'm going to have Bruck bring me the letter. Give it to him when he comes for it, all right?”

He made a few more calls: to Bruck, asking him to deliver the letter to him; to his assistant, apprising her of the situation and providing instructions; and then to Lisette. He hung up on her voice mail, not even knowing what to say just then. Then he called Vanessa's cell.

“Hello,” she said. “I'm sorry to hear about your father.”

“Give me one reason I shouldn't throw you out of my house,” Charles seethed, “and put you on a goddamn plane myself.”

“Because your precious nanny girlfriend took off,” Vanessa shot back, “so
I'm
taking care of my kids, and you need me here.”

“I don't need you there. I have a full staff; they'd never notice your absence. They're used to it, remember?” Charles pushed a hand through his hair. “And if you want a medal for having to take care of your own kids, you won't find it on me.”

“I know you must—”

“Shut up,” he snapped. “Listen to me. I don't know what happened between you and Lisette after we left, but you're going to answer for it, and for the other crap you pulled in front of the kids last night. You can be sure of that.” His heart was beating furiously, matching his emotions. “But, yes, you're in charge of the kids for now. I'm at the hospital, waiting to see if my father lives or dies. So be a responsible adult for once in your fucking life and stay with the kids until I get back. If you don't, if you pawn them off on the staff and disappear, I'll make sure you're not allowed to see them ever again.” He clicked off the call and hurled his phone, sending it sailing to land on the nearby sofa.

His three siblings all stared at him in stunned silence.

“I miss being able to slam down the phone when you hung up on someone,” Charles growled.