My son-in-law's brother, a personal trainer, and the breath of fresh air I never thought I'd ever find again.
His approach is…unconventional, to say the least. He's loud. Unapologetic. And for the first time since Adam died, I actually feel happy.
He's also decades younger than me, and—plot twist: a man.
I know I need to let go of the past and start living again, but can I do it with Jarvis?
Chapter 1 - Anson
The doorbell rings. I glance at my watch. It's ten on the dot.
He's right on time.
I give myself a final once-over in the full-length hallway mirror. I'm showered. Dressed in jeans and a black button-up. But my face is drawn, I haven't shaved, and my too-long, still-wet hair falls messily down my forehead.
On the plus side, I haven't had a drink.
Will it be enough to convince my tenacious, pint-sized son-in-law I'm doing okay? Only one way to find out.
I swing open the door. "Robbie. Good to see you."
"Good to see you, too, Anson." He ignores my outstretched arm, gives me a quick hug, then waltzes into my penthouse. He's dressed in muted pink and olive athleisure, his latest business venture as part of his growing health and well-being empire.
"How have you been?" he asks, scanning the place.
"I've been well," I reply, knowing full well the reason for him popping in is because he's worried about me. Like all my sons and their partners are.
I thought I knew what pain was. I'd gone through plenty of it turning my father's company into one of Australia's largest privately held businesses, surviving all but one of my brothers betraying me and trying to steal the company from under me. In my personal life, divorcing Piper wasn't a fun ride, either.
But Isurvived. Whatever life threw at me, I was able to bounce back stronger and better than before. Until the night I watched my first-born son take his last breath, helpless to savehim as he died in my arms after a high-speed head-on crash. The man I was before the accident perished with my son.
Grief truly is a bitch. Not a day has gone by in the three years since that accident that I haven't relived those frantic final seconds numerous times. I won't ever forget the limpness of his body after he drew his final breath. All the money and power I'd amassed, everything I'd scraped and worked and sacrificed so much for meant shit at that moment. I willneverforgive myself for letting Adam die.
"The place looks…clean."
Robbie has finished his assessment of my apartment and is looking square at me, hands propped on his hips. Word may have gotten out that I've let things slip a little around here, so I placed an emergency call to Lizzie this morning to come over and work her magic.
"Well, I do have a housekeeper."
His eyes narrow. "Dunlop called to warn you I'd be coming over today, didn't he?"
"Where are my manners?" I deflect, to avoid getting my youngest in trouble. Robbie, as usual, has hit the nail on the head. "Can I get you a drink? Non-alcoholic, of course," I add because, unfortunately, it bears adding.
My sons and their partners have seen me in a messy, drunken state on more occasions than I care to admit. I'm not proud of the way I've fallen apart, but at the same time, I can't find a way to do anything about it.
As well-intentioned as I know Robbie is, I'll have to find a way to turn down whatever plan he's hatched to help get me out of my funk. Politely, and in a way that ensures my balls remain attached to my body.
Robbie requests sparkling water, so I grab two bottles and suggest we sit out on the balcony by the pool to take advantage of the good weather. It's another beautiful day on the Gold Coast—not a cloud in the sky, the Pacific Ocean shimmering all the way to the horizon.
We chitchat about Dunlop for a while before Robbie fills me in on what's been happening with my other sons. Bremmer is killing it running the company I built but have no interest in running any longer, and Clayton's recently moved up to our North Queensland office. He's living on his newest yacht, and based on what Robbie is saying, seems to have found love, too. He went through a brutal breakup, so I'm happy to hear he's doing well. Reminds me, though, I really need to make more of an effort to keep in touch.
We come to a lull in the conversation, and I know it's a deliberate lull because there's an unspoken challenge in the way Robbie is looking at me with those anything-but-innocent blue eyes of his.
"I'm getting nervous, kid," I half joke after a while.
"You? Nervous? You're one of the richest, most powerful men in the country."
"Was, Robbie." I take a sip of water, wishing it was something stronger. "That's all in the past now."
