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“Better than pushing us off of a ledge, now isn’t it?” she snaps back. “Her father was here, Jax. He visited Hunter often. He messed with Hunter’s head. I don’t know what went down, but he was not the same after that man came around.”
“And yet, you never came to me.”
“I did. I came to you.”
“Too late.” I lean across the chair, anger burning in my words. “Too damn late, and you know it.”
“How can you have that woman in your bed?”
“Who is in my bed is not your business, but Emma is not her father. That man barely acknowledged her as his daughter. And yet, you’re a bitch to her. And don’t even get me started on Brody.My brotherdamn near shoved her off the ledge Hunter fell from.”
She blanches, a stunned look on her face. “What?”
“You heard me. He hung her off the ledge. And yet, she’s still here, and honestly, anyone else would be gone.”
That fires her up. “Then why isn’t she? Think about it, Jax. Why isn’t she?”
“Because I asked her to live here with me.”
She blanches all over again. “You—you asked her towhat?”
“That’s right. And I’m telling you, right now, that if you make decisions based on revenge and bitterness, you won’t be here for another Harvest. I need you here, Jill. You are valued, but that kind of motivation is dangerous. And I will choose her over you.”
She hugs herself and tears up. “I just—I just don’t know how, I don’t know how to let it go.”
“Then take some time off for the holidays to cope. You never took any time off after Hunter died.Takesome time.”
She swallows hard, tears pooling in her eyes, and for once, I’m not thinking about her as guilty of anything but grief. “This place is all I have left of him,” she whispers, driving home that point.
“But, is it rubbing the loss in your face?”
“I need closure. I need someone to pay for what happened to him.” She looks away and then back at me. “He left me nothing. I think maybe he didn’t love me like I loved him.”
And just like that, she loses me. Is she crying over losing him or losing his money? “Money isn’t love, Jill. Take December off with pay. It’s the slow season. That’s an order.” I reach for the door, and I’m about to open it when she says, “Brody is at the brunch.”
I whirl on her. “What the hell, Jill? I just told you that he tried to push Emma off the landing, and you didn’t tell me that he was here?”
“I’m telling you now.”
“After Emma has been out there alone for an extra five minutes.”
“And he wasn’t going to push her. He told me he just wanted to scare her away.”
“You knew? You acted like you didn’t know.”
“I knew, but hearing you describe it wasn’t like hearing him describe it.”
I grimace and exit the office with one goal: find Emma.
Chapter one hundred
Emma
The same room where the tasting was held is now setup with desserts and a bar, but the brunch is actually being held in the center of the castle. I treat myself to a delicious mini chocolate croissant and then walk through the giant archway to the main event, where people chitchat in small groups and waiters walk around with trays filled with yummy food. There are tables with more yummy food. Another bar. And more people.
My gaze lifts and scans the high stone walls and the arched cutouts above, with paintings inside them, only to find myself staring at the woman in red. Well, a painting of the woman in red. It’s mesmerizing, and I wonder why I never fear seeing her when I’m here. Perhaps because she’s at peace here, and despite all the reasons I should not be, I am, too. I feel like I belong here, or more it could be, that I simply belong with Jax.
I maneuver through a few small high tables meant for snacking and standing, but stop dead in my tracks when I spy Kent Sawyer talking with a woman I don’t know. He is, as I’ve noted in past, rare in-person brushes, dressed impeccably in agray suit. He’s tall, on the thin side, his face handsome but a bit gaunt. His thick salt and pepper hair reflecting his age, which I estimate to be mid-fifties.
