“Great,” Trevor responded, relief washing through him. “You two can arrange a face-to-face later, but for now, will you mind telling her that yourself?”
He held the phone out to Haylie and waited for her to take it. She did, reluctantly putting it to her ear.
“Hello?”
He couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Haylie nodded and offered his sister her name. For the next minute there were a lot of affirmative sounds and more nodding, followed by, “All right. I’d like that, thank you.”
Hitting the disconnect button, Haylie handed the phone back to him. He knew her chat with his sister had gone well, but her expression was curiously blank.
“So?” he prompted, raising a brow.
“I’m apparently having lunch with your sister tomorrow to discuss the planning of her wedding.”
“Excellent.”
Haylie watched Trevor return the phone to its cradle, then collect the open bottle of wine and cross to the low coffee table where he poured a couple more inches for himself. Her glass was still nearly full, so he didn’t offer to top her off.
Excellent? For him, maybe. She wasn’t so sure about herself. She’d come to Aspen looking for a father for her nephew, not a new job.
Should she even help his sister with her wedding preparations, or should she back out of the impromptu lunch meeting she’d just agreed to? She could definitely develop a decent argument for temporary insanity, since not only her day but her entire life was beginning to feel very surreal and out of control.
On the other hand, they were talking about a Jarrod wedding here. A Jarrod wedding!
Celebrity-event planners would beg, borrow, steal and commit bloody murder to land a Jarrod wedding, and she was standing in the middle of Trevor Jarrod’s living room being handed one on a silver platter. Even if they didn’t pay her a dime, having a Jarrod wedding in her portfolio could take It’s Your Party to a whole new level. From putting together mostly children’s birthday parties and bar mitzvahs, to garden parties, high-society anniversaries and even more high-profile weddings.
The thought was so overwhelming that for a second she couldn’t breathe, and the lack of oxygen caused tiny starbursts to flare in front of her eyes.
Forcing herself to take a deep breath before she did something truly embarrassing like fainting dead away while Trevor stood less than a yard from her, sipping his merlot, she reminded herself that she was projecting, blowing the entire situation way out of proportion. At the moment, the only thing her business future held was a harmless lunch date with Trevor’s sister…and a decision to make.
Steeling her spine and her nerves, she fixed him with a firm glance and said, “I’ll stay the night and meet with your sister tomorrow, but I’m not promising anything more than that.”
“Fair enough,” he agreed with the shrug of one shoulder. “Though I think once you talk to Erica, you’ll decide that sticking around Jarrod Ridge for a couple of weeks isn’t the worst idea in the world. And in case you’re worried about losing profits while you’re away from Denver, rest assured that we’ll pay you well for your services. Very well,” he added, winking at her over the rim of his wineglass.
Agreeing to stay overnight at Trevor Jarrod’s house and actually following through were two entirely different things, Haylie soon learned.
For one, she had packed the car and made arrangements for a day trip, nothing more. She had enough formula and diapers for Bradley to get through the next few hours. If they were lucky.
For another, she had nothing with her for her. No nightgown or toothbrush or makeup remover, and only the clothes on her back to wear to her lunch with Erica the next day.
It was enough to make her reconsider her decision, that was for sure.
“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” she whispered, standing in the doorway of one of Trevor’s extra bedrooms, staring at a comfortably snoozing Bradley.
He’d fallen asleep while finishing his bottle, and hadn’t stirred while she’d changed him into one of the only remaining diapers. Of course, Trevor didn’t have a crib or anything else that even remotely resembled a proper child-care necessity, so they’d had to improvise.
A soft, thick comforter on the floor in one corner, surrounded by pillows and a couple of the cushions from Trevor’s expensive leather sofa, and she didn’t think Bradley was going anywhere, even if he did wake up in the next few hours, which was highly unlikely.
“It’s not that bad, is it?” Trevor asked from directly behind her. “I mean, it doesn’t look great, but he’s safe enough, right?”
Turning from the doorway, she nodded. “He’ll be fine. He doesn’t move around much at all when he sleeps. The important thing is just to make sure he can’t roll anywhere and that there’s nothing nearby that will hurt him if he does wake up.”
Leading her back down to the first floor of the elegant, expansive log cabin, he said, “Then why are you worried this wasn’t a good idea?”
“Not Bradley, staying here. I wasn’t planning to be gone overnight. I’m not prepared to stay anywhere, let alone with you.”
Heat suffused her cheeks when she realized how that sounded, and she rushed on with her explanation in hopes that he wouldn’t catch the slip.
“Bradley is almost out of diapers and formula, I have no personal items with me….” Slipping her hands into the front pockets of her slacks, she hunched her shoulders and looked down at her outfit. “Even if we get through the night, I’m going to end up looking like a bag lady when I meet your sister after having slept in my clothes and makeup.”
One corner of Trevor’s mouth tipped up in a grin. “You forget who you’re talking to,” he told her from across the kitchen island.
Sliding a pad and pen across the marble countertop, he said, “Write down everything you need. Be as detailed as possible—brand names, quantities, your clothing and shoe sizes. I’ll have it all delivered tonight, along with your car.”
“My car?” She tipped her head, watching his brown eyes and handsome face carefully. “Are you sure you want to have it brought here? Aren’t you afraid I’ll sneak off in the middle of the night with Bradley?”
“There may be exigent circumstances connected to your visit, but you’re still a guest, not a prisoner. Besides, you gave me your word you’d stay through tomorrow, and I believe you.”
“Why?” she wondered aloud. “You don’t even know me.” And she might very well be the gold digger she knew he suspected she was.
With a shrug, he said, “I think any woman who would take a day out of her life and drive four hours to tell me I have a child I knew nothing about—allegedly, anyway—just because she feels it’s the right thing to do can be taken at her word.”
Tossing back the last sip of his merlot, he set the glass down with a tiny clink before adding, “And you know what they say about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.”
Six
The next morning, Bradley had Haylie out of bed early, but he didn’t wake her. She was already awake, having tossed and turned half the night before giving up on sleep altogether to simply lie there, letting her thoughts and anxieties run rampant.
Now, fresh from the shower and staring at the collection of clothing and accessories that littered the guest-room mattress, she decided that if this was an example of how Trevor treated his enemies, Haylie was sincerely considering becoming his nearest and dearest friend. True to his word, not long after nightfall the evening before, a Jarrod Ridge employee had come to the door with everything from her list and more.
By the time the young man left, every inch of the marble island had been covered with fabric totes, a boxed dinner for two from one of the Ridge’s exclusive restaurants waited on the counter near the stove and her car was parked in the drive. Trevor had thanked him with a nod and what looked to be a fifty-dollar tip, something Haylie quickly pretended she hadn’t seen.
She’d known the Jarrods had money, of course. Which was sort of like saying the Sahara desert had sand. They were, in a word, loaded.
Yes, she understood that. And if she hadn’t before driving down from Denver, the sight of the Jarrod Ridge Resort certainly would have clued her in. Trevor’s demeanor of entitlement and the lavishness of his own private home were really just icing on the cake.
And though she considered herself a generous person, always tipping well at restaurants and after hotel stays, she didn’t have a fifty-dollar bill in her wallet for emergencies, let alone floating around as extra change to give to a complete stranger in thanks for doing her a favor.
He hadn’t been stingy when it came to supplying her with personal and baby items or a fresh outfit for her lunch with his sister, either. The vanity in the guest bathroom and the kitchen countertops all resembled a well-stocked drugstore, and the guest bed looked like the fitting-room floor of a woman trying to find the perfect dress for her high school reunion.
A new sweater and another pair of slacks would have been fine, but Trevor had apparently requested one of everything in her size from several of the resort boutiques. There were dresses and skirts and pants, blouses and pullovers and casual tops with both short and long sleeves. Even shoes and undergarments.
She couldn’t decide whether to be impressed in a Pretty Woman sort of way or intimidated by the power Trevor so obviously wielded. He snapped his fingers and people jumped. He said, “Jump,” and people asked, “How high?”
If the blood tests came back showing Bradley was his son—and she had no doubt they would, unless Heather had lied to her for the last year of her life—and Trevor got it into his head to fight for custody, she wouldn’t stand a chance.
Haylie’s heart seized in her chest at the thought, and her hands actually shook while she rushed to get dressed. She might not have money or power or even the biological rights that Trevor did, but she would still do whatever she had to in order to keep Bradley in her life.
She hadn’t given it a lot of thought before making the trek to Aspen—something she was beginning to regret—but she realized now that it wouldn’t be feasible for her to maintain full custody once the DNA results came in. The knowledge did nothing to loosen the low-level panic gripping her chest. But she would do anything and everything she could to make sure she was able to see the baby and spend time with him on a regular basis.
Surely Trevor would be open to visitation, right? He might be a Jarrod, used to getting his own way and ordering people around like pawns on a chessboard, but he wasn’t cruel, was he? He wouldn’t invoke his parental rights and cut her out of Bradley’s life altogether. Would he?
Haylie wasn’t sure what the symptoms of a full-blown panic attack felt like, but if her shallow breathing, sweaty palms and the ringing in her ears were any indication, she suspected she might be headed in that direction.
She needed to calm down. The test results wouldn’t be in for weeks yet, so it wasn’t as though Trevor was going to snatch Bradley out of her arms and run off with him. Considering the fact that he hadn’t even held the baby yet—voluntarily, at any rate—she thought he was probably hoping the tests would come back negative so he could wash his hands of the whole situation and return to his fun-loving, playboy lifestyle with barely a ripple.