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Cole shook his head with a snarky laugh when Gabe showed him their mother was calling him now.
“Bonjour,”Gabe said in greeting as he checked the time on his gold watch.
Cole ignored his brother’s conversation in French as he looked out the window. He was stunned by the knowledge that his mother had been aware of his father’s infidelity. Discovering that she’d known, forgiven his father, and seemed to still forge a loving relationship, was forcing him to rethink a lot of things—and to wonder even more.
What private circumstances could have led to his mother forgiving him?
That, he didn’t know. But he was now well aware that the role of the blind hapless victim within which he’d placed his mother had been wrong.
How long had she known?
Cole pinched the bridge of his nose, ready to get home to nurse a bottle of rare Scotch from his well-stocked bar.
“Vous ne pouvez pas vous attendre à ce que nous prétendions que c’est tout normal et juste manger ledîner avec tout le monde qui est désemparé de ce qui se passe?”Gabriel said.
Cole gave him a glance, agreeing with what he’d said.You can’t expect us to pretend it’s all normal and just eat dinner with everyone who is clueless to what’s going on?
He was sure his brothers had known of their arrival and were wondering about their speedy departure. He regretted not speaking to them and taking a moment to hug his niece. He had just felt an urgency to get out of there.
“Je suis d’accord avec Cole. Dis-leur. Ou nous le ferons. Plus de secrets!”Gabe’s hand urgently slashed the air.I agree with Cole. Tell them. Or we will. No more secrets.
Cole pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped until he was looking down at a photo of Jillian the night of the relaunch of Cress, INC.’s website. Her smile was infectious, and that dress was burned into his memory.
What isshedoing?
Hopefully, not Warren.
His grip tightened on the phone.
“Je vais lui demander,”Gabe said, looking briefly in his direction.
“Ask me what?” Cole said as he tucked his cell phone away.
He listened as Gabe explained that their parents wanted to read the report and reach out to Lincoln for a DNA test to confirm paternity before telling their other brothers.
“No. No more secrets,” Cole said with a firm shake of his head. “We can all wait for the results together. We know. They should know. Theywillknow, if it’s left to me.”
Gabe finished the conversation with his mother and ended the call. “Family meeting tomorrow night at the townhouse at eight,” he said.
Cole nodded as Harvey brought the SUV to a stop in front of his condo and he let himself out.
Long after he entered his condo and lit the fireplace before pouring himself a stiff drink, he had a reckoning that would not be denied. He was plagued by thoughts of Jillian, their relationship, and where it had all gone wrong—and just what role his knowledge of his father’s infidelity may have subconsciously played in that.
Jillian crossed her arms at her chest as she walked around the studio apartment in the Meatpacking District of Manhattan. It didn’t compare with the moderate-size loft apartment she’d given up for her move to California, but it was more budget-friendly—and that was key. Most important, it was freedom from her parents’ home where late-night giggles and a squeaky bed frame made her life a living hell.
Knock-knock-knock.
She turned from her view of the building across the street to stride the short distance to the door. She gave the movers a thankful smile for working during such frigid weather to transport her furniture from her storage unit after a request of just an hour ago. “Lunch is on me,” she said to the two men, waving her hand at a large pot of chili and cheesy cornbread on the stove.
“Now that sounds like a plan,” the muscled owner said.
Jillian jammed the door open with a wood wedge and moved out of their way.
Getting the key to the apartment that morning from the property manager had been the good news she needed. She sat on the window seat and pulled her knees to her chest as she looked out at the gentrified neighborhood that had shifted from its factory roots. Now it’s where she called home.
At the sight of a tall man on a motorcycle parking in front of the building, she straightened and pressed her hands to the window.
Cole.
