“No,” Lilah confirmed. “She will know eventually, obviously. Before that happens, I need to line up another job and another place to live. Full-time employment in Captivity, for someone like me, is limited. Whatever I find won’t be fancy. It won’t be flexible. I’ll be on my own. I won’t be able to give this baby things it should have, or maybe even things it needs.” Anguished eyes found his. “You and Izzy would, though. If you’re getting married soon, you could…” She sniffled, looked away, hunched into herself. “You could adopt the baby.” The suggestion came out quickly, in a voice tight with pain. “Be its parents. Give it the things I can’t.”
It might have been tempting, even knowing the future she’d woven for Izzy and him was likely a fairy tale rather than a real eventuality, but just one look at Lilah told him everything he needed to know about that offer. Too bad she couldn’t see herself, turned inward, arms protective around the tiny life inside her.
“Lilah, look at me.”
She did. She’d been raised a good girl. When someone she trusted asked something of her, she did it. Yeah, if Shay had still been alive, Trace would have beat the crap out of him. The fear and pain he saw in her expression just killed him.
“You’ll never be alone. Never,” he reiterated. “You need a place to live? We have room for you, whenever you’re ready. Need a job? We’ll find you a role at the airfield.” Except it wasn’t his airfield anymore if the deal proceeded. Still, Bridget would hire her in a heartbeat. Something niggled in his mind, but he pushed it aside for later. “You need help with the baby, you’ll have all the help you need. You’ll have to fight us off to get a moment to yourself, most likely,” he warned. “But you’re the mother. Always. You tell us what you want that to look like, and it’s yours. I swear to you.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
In that moment she looked so young to him. So young and brave staring down a life-altering path made all rockier by extremely complicated circumstances. Gratitude overwhelmed him, that she had the courage to choose that path. “Say you trust me. Say you’ll accept Shanahan help. Shay would have wanted you to.” Of that, at least, he felt certain. Reckless and impulsive as he was, his brother would not have left Lilah to raise their baby on her own. He might have had to grow into the role of a responsible partner, but he would have been a great dad.
“I trust you,” Lilah whispered, and hugged him. “Will Izzy come back soon?”
God, please, yes. He loved her. He needed her. Whatever their differences regarding the sale, he owed her now more than ever. For not freaking out when Lilah had confided in her. For figuring a way to protect that confidence while still putting him in the loop.
“I hope so,” he said. It was the only answer he had.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hi. It’s me. I’m home, and you’re not. You’re not here, Izzy, and I didn’t see that coming. Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t completely upfront about my reasons for selling, and I’m sorry we’re at odds over it, but please don’t do this. Don’t back out. Don’t back out of the deal and don’t back out of us. I spoke to Lilah, like you asked and thank you for that. I’m still—whoa—processing everything but thank you for encouraging her to talk to me. She’s not alone in this and now she knows it. Bridget’s gone for a few days, so I haven’t spoken to her yet, but I will. Right now, though, the only person I really want to talk to is you. I know you’re hurt that I kept information from you, and angry, and you don’t agree with my decision, so maybe you don’t feel like speaking to me at the moment. If that’s where you’re at then just listen. I need you. I miss you. I at least have to know you made it home okay. Give me that much.
Izzy took her cell from her ear and leaned against the headrest of the Uber driving her home from LAX. The city lights streamed past the window as she sat still in the darkened back seat. The traffic all around seemed too loud. Too close. She would text, she decided. A simple “Home safe,” would do.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to speak to him. She ached to. But what was the point? No, he hadn’t been honest with her, but she could forgive that. Unfortunately, he wasn’t being honest with himself, either. She’d said her piece on that point. Continuing the debate wouldn’t push him into seeing the truth. That was something he’d have to recognize for himself—hopefully before he let go of something that mattered, for reasons that didn’t. But continuing to clash over it would simply push them further apart.
Mustering energy, she straightened and raised her phone, but before she could hit the text icon an incoming call flashed on her screen. Ugh. Gordon Davis. She considered letting it go to voicemail, but… What the hell, Izzy. If you’re going to blow this up, might as well light the fuse.
“Hi, Gordon. Working late?”
“It’s barely nine p.m. That’s midday for the likes of us.”
As jokes went, it wasn’t especially funny. In fact, it was all too true. “I’m actually on my way home, so—”
“I take that to mean I should expect the final outstanding due diligence items any moment?”
“No. Sorry Gordon, that’s not at all what it means. It means we’re done.”
“Done? We’re not done. We’re in the middle of deal, here.”
“Okay, I’m done.” She took a long breath and committed career hara-kiri. “I’m not continuing to work on the deal.”
“What the fuck are you saying? You can’t just drop your pencil.”
“I can. I have.”
“What’s the status of the deal?”
“I really have no idea. You’ll have to take that up with Chuck. I highly recommend you don’t call him at this hour.”
“I don’t believe this.” For a moment the man sounded legitimately at a loss for words, but finally exploded with, “This is the most unprofessional bullshit I’ve ever encountered. I demand an explanation on behalf of my client. He’s gone to a great deal of time and expense—”
“Which was always his risk. He wants to expand his Alaska market, fine, good luck. But it could be that Captivity Air is the wrong target. That’s all can tell you. All I have to say.”
“Well, listen up, lady, because I sure as hell have more to say—”
“Goodbye, Gordy.” She hung up the phone, then, for good measure, blocked his number. The timer was officially ticking on the implosion of her career.
She reached for her HH&R water bottle, prepared to hydrate and try the figure eight breathing to center herself, then paused. Her pulse wasn’t spiking. Her stomach wasn’t jittering. Her thoughts weren’t careening around in her head like bats trying to flee a cave. She felt eerily calm. Maybe it was merely the calm before the storm, but she’d take it with gratitude. One beat, two. Since the calm held, she decided to do what she’d been about to do before Gordon’s call.