you mind if we wait with you?” Jack nodded toward Brilla, whose head was jutting out from between the two front seats. She smiled, and her pink tongue fell out the side of her mouth.
Raven smiled, too. “Sure. If you want to.”
Oh, he wanted to. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her one second before he had to.
They got out of the car and climbed the platform. Jack eavesdropped on a group of people talking about the sights they’d visit in the city: the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center, decorated windows on Fifth Avenue, and Wollman Rink in Central Park.
Stepping close, he took Raven’s hands in his. “If you stayed, we could do some of those things, too.”
“But I’m going home,” Raven answered, gripping his fingers tight.
“You don’t have to.”
She nodded. “I do.”
He flashed a half-grin. “But there’s a part of you that wants to stay, isn’t there?”
Looking away, she shook her head. “Jack, don’t do this.”
“You can’t kiss me like that and expect me to believe you don’t have feelings for me. I’ll tell you right here, and now, I’m crazy for you. Since everything fell apart, I’ve been lost without you. Can we try this again? We were good together. Tell me that you see that.”
She pulled her hands from his and stepped back. “We’re too different, Jack. I’m a fixer. You’re a destroyer. There’s no way we can overcome that.”
There had to be a way. “What if I’m not a destroyer? I don’t want to be. Not anymore. I didn’t tell you the whole truth about why I came to the beach house.”
Her head tilted. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a reason I don’t deal with the Human Resource issues of new acquisitions and mergers. It’s my Achilles heel. I can’t stomach the human fall out. Leveraging debt, the firings, and benefit cuts, it rips my soul in half. I get away to recharge so I can stay in this job. But I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to be proud of everything I do, not just some of it.”
She laid her hand on his chest, above his heart. “Your intentions are good, but it’s easier said than done, especially with your stepfather. You said so yourself.”
“I’ll prove it.” Jack pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket, hit a number on his speed dial, and pressed the speaker.
Beckett Winthrop picked up the line. “Jack, my boy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Jack wasn’t his boy, any more than Beckett was a snuggly paternal figure. “Beckett, I’ve really enjoyed working for WFG, but my time with the company has come to an end. You’ll have my resignation on your desk Monday morning.”
“Uh, what? No, that won’t do. I’m retiring this year.”
“You’ve said that for years, and it never happens,” Jack said.
“I see. So this is an ultimatum to get me to step down? You know I don’t like power plays.”
Jack nailed Raven with a stare, willing her to believe him. Willing her to stay. “No, I’m genuinely quitting.”
“You can’t. You’re my successor.” It was possibly the first time he’d ever heard panic in his stepfather’s voice, but he wasn’t taking it back.
He couldn’t. It felt too right.
“You’ll have to find someone else.”
Beckett laughed. “You’ll change your mind. This is like when you wanted to quit college three weeks into your first semester.”
Raven’s jaw dropped, her expression full of silent outrage, and it made Jack smile. He’d heard it all too many times to let his stepfather bother him, and besides, Raven had just shown she really did care. “It’s not at all like that.”
“I don’t understand. Do you want more cash? Shares? What’s your angle?”
There was only one thing he wanted, and, for once, it had nothing to do with his career. “There’s no angle, Beckett. I’m just done working at WFG.”
“And you don’t even want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing left to say,” Jack said.
“Well . . . what about New Year’s Eve dinner at the club?” His stepfather’s voice betrayed a rare note of vulnerability. “Will you be there?”
“Of course I’ll be there.” Family was family, after all. Beckett was all Jack had—and vice versa.
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Jack hung up and looked at Raven. She grabbed his arm. “What did you just do?”
Reality was beginning to sink in. “I . . . think I’m . . . unemployed.” He laughed, feeling freer than he had in . . . he didn’t know how long. Maybe ever. What came next?