On My Knees - J. Kenner Page 0,7

hesitates, then lifts one shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Do you think he should?” Right away I want to take the words back; I sound so damn needy.

“I think that’s up to him,” she says. “But if it were my decision, then yeah, I think he should keep Jackson on the project. Hell, I think he should try to get to know him. Reach out. If they’re brothers, then maybe they should try to be brothers.”

I lean back against the wall and look at her. It makes sense. Why go straight to enemies without first trying to be friends, if not family? “Are you going to tell him that? Or at least suggest he shouldn’t fire Jackson?”

A soft laugh bubbles out of her. “Um, no. Not hardly.”

“Why the hell not?” My words are sharper than I intended, but dammit, I thought I’d found an ally.

“You know why. This is between Damien and Jackson and Jeremiah. You and I can have our opinions, but it’s not up to us.”

“So share your opinion.”

For a moment, she just looks sad. “Come on, Syl, you know I can’t. If I asked, Damien would keep him here. We both know he’d do that for me. And I couldn’t live with that hanging between us.”

I know she’s right. There is very little that Damien wouldn’t do for Nikki, and it’s a testament to the strength of their relationship that she understands just how much responsibility that puts on her shoulders.

Even so, her answer frustrates me. “What about me? What if I ask him to keep Jackson on as a favor to me?”

“You can try, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. Friendship means a lot to him, but honesty and professional integrity mean more. Jackson should have told him the truth a long time ago. And he sure as hell should have told him before he came on board the project.”

“I know. Hell, Jackson knows. But it was a bitch of a situation to be in.”

The elevator has reached the lobby, and the doors slide open. I step out, and Nikki holds her hand against a door to keep it from closing as she stays in the car. “The truth is if their father wasn’t Jeremiah Stark, this might blow over. But this way …” She trails off into a shrug. “Well, it’s going to be stormy.”

I sigh, suddenly mentally and physically exhausted. “I feel like Damien’s punishing me, too,” I admit. “Making me be the one who fires him.”

“No,” Nikki says firmly. “I don’t think so. I think it’s his way of making sure that you still want the job and all the shit that comes with being the project manager. He knows you two are together, and that means that he knows you might not want to stay if Jackson is gone. Do you?”

My stomach twists, because yes, I do. This resort is my baby—my project. I’d suggested it to Damien. I’d put it together. And I’m so damn grateful that he’s given me a real chance to move up in the company by letting me split my time between being his assistant and being the project manager for the Cortez resort.

So yes, I want this job. I want the resort. I want Jackson.

God help me, I want it all.

And I have no idea if I can even come close to getting—or keeping—any of it.

four

Where R U?

I glance down at the text I sent to Jackson as I wait for Joe to check the computer logs that record vehicles entering and leaving the garage.

It’s been well over three minutes, and still no reply.

I tap out another note—???—and am rewarded with only cyber-silence.

“Anything?” I ask Joe.

“Nothing,” Joe says, frowning at his monitor. “He didn’t use his key card to access the garage today.”

“That doesn’t make sense. I know he drove here.” And I also know how much Jackson loves his sleek, classic black Porsche. I can’t imagine him simply parking it on the street in downtown LA after dark.

“Maybe he parked at the subway station and walked down the hill?”

“Why do you think that?”

“I chatted with him before he went up to see Mr. Stark. Came in right there,” Joe adds, pointing toward the glass doors that open onto the building’s front plaza and South Grand Avenue beyond that.

I consider that tidbit of information. “Well, did you see him leave?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Brooks. I haven’t seen him since he arrived.”

I frown, wondering if maybe Jackson didn’t leave the building, after all. I’d expected him to want to