This Holiday Magic. Celeste O. NorfleetЧитать онлайн книгу.

       Chapter 6

      Tyson stood in the doorway with a smile that instantly sent her senses into emotional overdrive. As usual, gorgeous didn’t do him justice. He wore a charcoal-colored business suit with a white shirt and a dark tie. “Tyson,” she muttered breathlessly.

      “Good morning again, Janelle,” he said, ending the call and smiling warmly. “I’m guessing this is soon enough.”

      She stared at him with her cell phone still up to her ear. It was as if thinking about him all morning had, by magic, conjured him up. She didn’t know how, but ever since the very beginning of their relationship, he always had a way of knowing exactly when she needed him. “How did you...? What are you doing here?” she asked.

      “You called me. I came. I thought that was obvious.”

      “I’m sorry. You just took me by surprise again. I didn’t expect to see you immediately.”

      “Actually, I wanted to catch up with Ben before he left for work this morning.”

      “You just missed him, but I’m glad you’re here.”

      “May I come in?” he asked, still standing on the top step.

      “Yes, please, come in.” He stepped inside, paused and then turned to her. They stood there a moment until she spoke again. “Um, can I get you something to eat or drink?”

      “No, thank you. I’m fine. Are you okay? You seem uneasy.”

      “How is it you always know when I’m troubled?”

      He smiled. “I don’t know. I guess I just do. What can I do to help?”

      “It’s about my father. He’s...”

      Tyson’s expression instantly changed. “What happened? Is he okay?” he interrupted, obviously concerned.

      “Yes, he’s fine,” she said, noting his abrupt reaction and seeing his strained expression. “Apparently he’s better than fine. All of a sudden he’s eating right, exercising and taking care of himself. I couldn’t be happier.”

      Tyson nodded with relief. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

      “Come, we can talk in the living room,” she said, walking past him. He followed, looking around at all the decorations.

      “Wow. I see you’re all ready for Christmas. This is incredible. I forgot how much your father loves the holiday season.”

      “Yeah, he does,” she said. “He always tried to make it extra special for me because of my mother’s death. He never wanted me to feel sad.” She watched as he walked over to the Christmas tree and then to the fireplace mantel, where he fingered the stocking for his daughter. “He put up Christmas stockings for you and your daughter.”

      “Yes, I know,” Tyson said, then turned to her. “He told me. He also invited us over for Christmas dinner, but that was before you came home. I’m sure he’ll want to spend the holiday with you.”

      “There’s no reason for plans to change on my account. There’s always room for one or two more.”

      “Thank you. So, tell me, what’s troubling you?”

      “I need you to tell me the whole truth about what’s going on with my father. Is his business in real danger?”

      “Yes, it is. Ben has made some questionable business decisions, and unfortunately, it’s put his company in serious jeopardy.”

      “If it’s about money, I have a trust fund from my mother and her family. It’s worth quite a bit of money. I want to use that to help him.”

      Tyson shook his head. “Ben has taken that off the table.”

      “I’m putting it back on. I have a stake in the company, too.”

      “We’ve talked about opening the company to public shares or taking on an investment partner.”

      She shook her head. “I can’t see him doing that. He’s a very private man. I don’t think he’d be happy to have others involved in running it. But isn’t the real-estate climate improving?”

      “Yes, it is, but at this point he’s in too deep and time has already run out on him. Maybe you can talk to him. He’s stubborn. And unfortunately, he may have no choice. Whether or not he is reluctant, private investors may be his only alternative.”

      She nodded. “I’ll try.”

      “Good. Thank you. I guess I’d better go.” He walked away.

      “Earlier, when I asked about my father, you seemed worried.” Tyson stopped and turned to her. “You know something else about him, don’t you?” she prompted. “What aren’t you telling me?”

      “What do you mean?” he asked innocently.

      She shook her head, knowing his expressions too well. Just like her father, he was hiding something. “Please don’t play games with me, Tyson. This is too serious. I know you just as well as you think you know me. You’re hiding something, just like Dad. What is it? What’s going on?”

      “You need to talk to your father about this.”

      “He’ll give me the same double-talk I get from you. Tyson, please, if you know something about my father, tell me. I have to know.”

      Tyson took a deep breath. “Why don’t we sit down?” he offered.

      Her insides tensed. This didn’t sound good already. She quickly assumed that there was more bad news about her father’s business, which might be in worse shape than she’d originally thought.

      He took her hand and led her to the sofa. They sat side by side. “Janelle, I came back about eight weeks ago to help your father.”

      “Yes, I know that already.”

      “What you don’t know is this isn’t the first time I’ve been back to Baltimore to help him. I was here shortly after you left for Tanzania six months ago. I stayed in your home for about two months.”

      “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why?”

      “Ben had a problem and he asked me to come.”

      She shook her head. “Another business issue?” she asked.

      “No, he had some medical trouble.”

      Her heart jumped instantly. “What? Wait, I don’t understand. He had medical problems and he called you and not me? Why?”

      “He didn’t tell you because he didn’t want to worry you. He knew that if he told you, you’d come back to the States and stay here for him, and he didn’t want that.”

      Her mind was a-jumble with a million questions. “No, this makes no sense. What kind of medical problems?” she asked, trying to think rationally. But all her years of self-composed medical training had gone out the window.

      “Ben suffered a minor heart attack and a TAI.”

      “You mean a TIA? A transient ischemic attack—a ministroke?”

      He nodded.

      Janelle gasped. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. The air in the room seemed to evaporate. She jumped up and ran to the front door. In an instant Tyson was right behind her. He stopped her before she could get to it.

      “Janelle, stop,” he said, standing between her