Fortune's Heirs: Reunion. Marie Ferrarella
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eyes narrowed. Was he going to bring that up at every opportunity? Of course he was. “All the more reason to do my homework.”
“Yes, it is.”
Jack inclined his head, signaling an end to the round. He was sparring with her and he knew why. It all stemmed from the car accident. He’d felt the need to protect her. And he’d felt responsible for her. It went deeper than just being responsible for someone fate threw him together with. He felt something for her.
Undoubtedly the feelings he’d experienced had all been brought on by memories of Ann, but he still didn’t like the wave of panic that had assaulted him when he’d first heard Gloria screaming. Moreover, he definitely didn’t like the odd sensation that had waltzed through him, filling every cavity, when she’d clung to him after he’d extracted her from the vehicle.
Things had stirred inside him. Things with cobwebs and dust on them.
Feelings.
The last thing he wanted awakened within him were feelings. The sooner this woman was out of his hair, the better.
Chapter Seven
“So, how’s it going?”
There was no need for any sort of a preamble. Jack knew exactly what the “it” was that his father was referring to. He was talking about Gloria and her jewelry store.
His father had called him at his Plaza Hotel suite earlier and asked him to swing by the office this morning. Though he wasn’t an optimist by nature, a small part of Jack had hoped that there would be something in the offing beyond the assignment that had brought him to San Antonio in the first place.
One look at his father’s expression had permanently sunk that hope.
Again he couldn’t help but wonder why his father was so intense about the success or failure of this woman’s business. Granted his father was a very charitable man—Jack doubted if anyone gave as much to charity as his parents did—but this somehow went beyond the call.
Jack shrugged, sinking his hands deep into his pockets as he wandered around the office, studying the paintings his father had chosen to keep him company while he was in San Antonio.
He’d heard somewhere that his father was considering having Derek take over this office when his father went back to New York. Even though he meant to return there himself—and as fast as possible—he couldn’t help feeling just the slightest bit piqued that his father would even be considering Derek for the top position instead of him.
Although he and Derek were as close as two friends could be, there was more than a healthy sort of rivalry between them. It was what kept his brain honed, he told himself.
“All things considered,” Jack replied, moving on to another painting, this one a more dramatic Turner seascape, “I’d rather be back in New York.”
Patrick’s fingers ceased flying over the keyboard as he looked up at his son and shook his head. “You move too fast, Jack. Stop a minute, catch your breath.”
Jack looked at his father over his shoulder. He was irritable because he was standing still, not moving fast. “I’m not out of breath.”
His words had absolutely no effect on his father. “Denial’s a sure sign that you’re even worse off than you thought you were.”
Abandoning the next painting, Jack crossed to his father’s desk and leaned over it, digging his knuckles in on the blotter. “Dad, I like work.”
Patrick’s expression softened, lessening the lines around his eyes. “I know you do, and I appreciate that. There’s nothing more satisfying than earning a living at what you like and what you’re good at.”
“But?” The word literally seemed to be throbbing in the space between them.
Jack was a workaholic of the first water, but that just meant Patrick had to work harder to get through to him. Now that his own soul had been saved, thanks to his wife, he refused to abandon Jack. “But you can’t take it home with you at night.”
Jack laughed shortly. There, he had his father, he thought. “Sure you can. Between laptops, PDAs and the Internet—”
Patrick raised a warning brow. “You know what I mean. You need a family.”
Jack threw up his hands. This was getting annoying. He thought only women had to listen to this kind of thing from their mothers. He would have bet anything that his father was above this kind of nonsense. Obviously he would have lost that bet.
“I have a family, Dad. I’ve got you and Mom and those annoying people you keep telling me are my siblings.” He allowed himself a grin. He cared a great deal for his brothers and baby sister, he just wasn’t about to try to duplicate them by creating children. “I’d say that’s family enough for anyone.”
Patrick’s eyes locked with his son’s. “A family of your own, Jack.”
Jack gave his father an innocent look. “Were you and Mom on loan?”
“A wife, Jack. A wife,” his father emphasized. Before Jack could say anything, Patrick added, “And kids. Lots of kids.”
Restless, Jack moved to the window. The rain that had been threatening since yesterday had finally arrived. Sheets of water were lashing against the window. The world outside looked dreary. The world inside wasn’t much better, he thought.
“I don’t know if I’d be any good at that,” he said, addressing his words to his father’s reflection in the window.
“Well, you certainly won’t find out by hiding behind corporate reports.”
Jack whirled around. No one had ever even hinted that he was a coward. He felt a sharp flare of temper and managed to bank it down. “Not hiding, Dad, analyzing. It’s what I do. What you pay me to do, remember?”
Patrick used the opportunity to swing the conversation back onto its original track. “Speaking of which, how’s that venture with Gloria Mendoza going?”
He noticed that his father had conveniently dropped the woman’s married name. Had Gloria gone through legal channels to do that, or was his father just trying to set something in motion here, make him think of her as a single woman?
No, that couldn’t be right. He and his father had an open, honest relationship. His mother might attempt a little manipulation with romance as the goal, but not his father. They were too alike, he and his father, even though the man seemed to have temporarily taken leave of his senses.
He told his father what was foremost in his mind. “I still think you should have handed this little assignment off to someone else.” He didn’t even have to think about who he’d get in place of himself. “Like Derek. He’s got more patience than I do.”
For a moment Patrick said nothing. Instead he thought of how he’d arranged to have his one-time protégé hire Gloria’s sister to act as his business analyst. It would have been a lie to say that he didn’t feel quite proud of himself. With a little bit of luck, things should be percolating there, as well.
His answer to Jack was vague. “Derek’s got his hands full with other projects.”
Did his father view him as a spoiled, pampered, rich offspring? Hadn’t he proven himself over and over again to be invaluable? “And I don’t?”
“I told you before, Jack, this needs your touch.” And, if I don’t miss my guess, so does Gloria. Almost as much as you need hers.
Jack scrutinized his father’s face. He could almost see the words marching through his brain. See them, but not quite make them out.
Or maybe he didn’t want to, because that would be giving credence to something he felt shouldn’t be going on. “What are you thinking?”
Patrick