Chapter Twenty-Three

Lance

The empty glass of brandy leaves my hand and flies towards the wall. The amber-stained fragments scatter on the floor and on the potted plant nearby.

"Whoa!" Michael takes a step back right after stepping into the room and seeing the mess. "If I'd come in a moment earlier, you could have hit me."

"I wouldn't have."

I sit back in my chair and rub my throbbing temples. Michael sits in front of my desk.

"Just calm down, Lance."

"Calm down?" The paperweight on my desk rattles as I beat my fist down on it. "Jordan and Claus have left, and all because of some stupid article that should never have been published!"

"Okay, okay." Michael raises his hands and moves them up and down.

I clasp my hands on my desk and sigh. "You should have seen their faces. They were both on the brink of tears. And Jordan wouldn't let me come with them."

"Why not?"

"She said I had to clean up this mess."

"Of course."

I frown. "That was the only time she looked me in the eye. And she wouldn't even let me send them home in the jet."

Michael nods. "That last part's understandable. She's trying to avoid drawing more attention."

I shake my head. "They shouldn't have received any attention in the first place!"

Again, Michael raises a hand to calm me down. I force myself to draw a deep breath.

"Did you seriously think you could hide Claus forever?" he asks me.

"Well, not forever, but..."

"Did you bring him to Boston and walk around carrying him on your shoulders thinking no one would notice?"

I slap my forehead. No. All I was thinking was that I wanted to spend time with him, that I wanted him to have a good time.

I should have been more careful.

"Just get rid of that article."

"It's already done," Michael says. "I already contacted the people who own the blogging site. Fortunately, one of them is an old friend of mine. They've taken the whole blog down. Also, I have people trying to track down where the article has been shared, and the photos, so those can be taken down as well. And Erin is already trying to track down the person who wrote the article. The owners of the blogging site have already given us some details about the blog owner. Once she's found, our lawyer will press charges."

"She?" I turn my head to one side.

"You didn't read the article, did you?"

"I tried."

"It sounded very much like a woman with a grudge against you," Michael says. "Maybe a woman scorned? Or someone you slept with and never spoke to again?"

"I never made the women I slept with any promises," I tell him.

"That doesn't mean you didn't give them any hope. And hope is such a hard thing to lose. When it dies, it always dies a terrible death."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Are you saying this is my fault?"

"I'm saying that you shouldn't have played around so much," he says. "I believe I've always said that, but you wouldn't listen before."

"I believe I've always told you not to act like my mother. Also, I don't play around anymore. You know that. So can we please stop talking about my old habits?"

"Fine." He sighs.

"So the article is down and will soon cease to exist anywhere on the web?" I ask him.

Michael nods. "Thankfully, we have worked with the major search engines before, and they're cooperative."

"Good." I sit back.

"But even though we can remove all digital traces of the article, we cannot erase people's memories. People have already seen the article. The phone has already been ringing. More reputable media outlets want the story."

"Well, they can't have it."

"You know them. They will look for Jordan and Claus, more so if they don't get anything from you."

I grit my teeth and say nothing.

He taps his fingers on my desk. "Like I said, you can't hide them forever."

"I wasn't hiding them. I was just..." I draw another deep breath. "I didn't know about Claus. You know that."

"Word of advice." Michael lifts a finger. "Don't tell the press that. They'll make Jordan look bad."

I keep that in mind.

"And then we were just going about our lives in a town that just happened to be not so well known," I go on. "If I was hiding them, I wouldn't have brought them to Boston."

"So now the world knows."

I sigh. "Claus is just a boy."

"He's the son of a billionaire."

"He's none of their business."

"Again, he's the son of a billionaire, of a businessman who's been on the cover of several magazines."

I glower at Michael. "Honestly, whose side are you on?"

He chuckles as he stands up. "Your side, Lance. Always your side."

I rub my temple. "Sometimes I wonder about that."

"All I'm saying is that you can't run away from reality or from the rest of the world. What has happened was bound to happen sooner or later. It happened a little sooner than you hoped, but so what? We just have to deal with it. And sweeping it under the rug is not dealing with it."

I glance at him. "What would you have me do?"

"Give the press something to chew on."

My eyebrows arch. "Now?"

Michael glances at his watch. "No. Thankfully, it's almost Christmas."

I sit up. "Fine. Tell them I'll give them an interview after Christmas."

"Ooh. I like that." Michael grins. "That should give them something to look forward to in the new year."

I stand up. "Until then, if I see any of them hanging around William's or Jordan's house, I swear I'll shoot them for trespassing."

"You're going back?"

I head towards the door. "Of course I am. Now that I've cleaned up this mess, I'm going to Jordan and Claus and spending what I hope will be a peaceful Christmas with them."

"You still haven't cleaned up that mess." Michael points to the glass shards on the floor.

"The maids will take care of it. Unless you want to." I step out of the room.

Michael follows me. "And what will you tell Jordan? She's a smart woman. She knows this is just the beginning."

I take a deep breath. "Well, as long as it's not the ending."

I'll do whatever it takes to keep things the way they are.

~

"We can't leave things the way they are, Lance," Jordan tells me as I sit in her kitchen. "Now the world knows about you and me and Claus."

"Not the world," I say. "Not yet."

"But they will know." She sighs as she sits down.

"Nothing has to change," I assure her.

She shakes her head. "Oh, Lance, things are already changing."

Just then, the doorbell rings.

"See." Jordan stands up. "I bet that's another neighbor just wanting to know if the rumors are true."

"I doubt everyone in town saw that blog."

"No, but Audrey did."

The doorbell rings again. Jordan goes to answer it. I follow her.

Audrey stands just outside, along with another woman.

Speaking of the devil.

"Hello, Jordan. How are you?"

"Audrey, I - "

"This is Catherine. She's from the local paper. I thought maybe you could answer a few..." Audrey stops as she sees me. "Oh, good, Lance, you're here too. Maybe we can take a picture of the three of you and - "

"No pictures." I step forward. "And no story. In fact, I prefer not to see any journalists or photographers for the rest of the year."

Audrey frowns. "But Lance..."

I stand in front of Jordan. "If it were any other time of the year, I'd have them arrested for trespassing. But it is Christmas and I don't want to be a Grinch. It would be nice if they also refused to trample on my holidays."

I glare at the woman beside Audrey. She steps back.

Audrey touches my arm. "Oh, come on. It won't take long, and - "

"Audrey, do you really want this town crawling with greedy, ill-mannered strangers?" I ask her.

"Well..."

I touch my chin. "Let me ask you another question. Do you want your local newspaper to keep existing? Do you want your husband to continue having a job?"

Audrey gasps. "Are you saying you'll get my husband fired? You're taking things too personally."

"This matter concerns my family," I say. "I do believe it's personal."

For once, she falls silent.

"Now, good day."

I close the door. Jordan goes to the couch.

"Now, what were we talking about?" I ask as I follow her.

She sits down and shakes her head. "You can't keep doing this. You can't protect Claus and me forever."

"Yes, I can."

"You can't stand in front of Claus and me forever and act as our shield. Sooner or later, we'll have to be in this battle, too."

Unfortunately, she's right.

"I'm sorry, Jordan."

"For what? For being famous?" She shakes her head again. "That can't be helped. And also, there's nothing that can be done about the fact that we have a son, which is the one thing in life I don't regret. We made our decisions. We have to face the consequences. Saying sorry won't help."

My eyes narrow. "You sound like Michael."

She grins. "I knew he was a good man."

"I know," I agree. "And I agree that we do have to deal with this, but that doesn't mean things have to change between us, among us. You, Claus and I, we can keep - "

"Playing house?" Jordan finishes my sentence and shakes her head once more. "I don't think so."

My jaw clenches. I was going to say "being a family".

"Eyes will follow us wherever we go," Jordan says. "And there will always be whispers."

"Who cares about what other people think?"

"I do." She stands up. "What do you think they'll say about me? I'm a nobody. They'll say I don't deserve you."

I reach for her arm. "You're not a nobody."

"They'll say I seduced you because I'm younger than you. They'll say I'm only after your money because you have so much and I have none. They might even call me a whore because we're not married."

Is that what she's worried about?

"You're a man, Lance. The world has been and will always be kinder to you. But I'm a woman, and all the blame will be put on my shoulders. They'll strip me and drag me through the mud."

"No, they won't," I tell her.

"What will you do, hmm, Lance? Pay everyone off? Blackmail everyone?"

I stand in front of her and look into her eyes. "I'll marry you."

Jordan gasps. Her doe eyes grow even wider.

I grasp her chin. "Will you marry me, Jordan Watts?"