Page 33 of Jack Frost, CEO

Sighing, I continue to pack with care, the same care I should have shown Maisie. One thing’s for sure, it’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks.

Jack Foster 2.0 is online, and he’s ready to prove just how much he’s changed.

Chapter 23

Maisie

When you’re on the other side of the country, flight times get exponentially longer. I was lucky that I made it onto the plane before the blizzard hit. My flight was one of the last allowed to take off before everyone else was grounded.

I sigh and thank my lucky stars for always carrying my purse no matter what. I didn’t have my mobile, so I had to buy a cheap prepaid at the airport gift shop. But besides that, I have basically everything I need.

Now, I’m settling back into my seat. Eighteen hours, and I’ll be home. I can’t help but think about the look on Jack’s face when he walked up after my father—no, Antony left. I refuse even to pretend that man was any kind of father to me.

I order a gin and tonic from the stewardess and drink it down in two gulps. I’m heartbroken at how Jack tossed me aside; however, deep down, I also wasn’t surprised. I don’t know what it is about me, but men have been tossing me aside my entire life. Whatever the reason, I’m officially done. D-O-N-E. From now on, I’ll focus on myself and Nan.

I pull the thin airline blanket higher and frown at the scratchy texture, missing the soft microfiber from the cabin. Then I do my best to get comfortable. It’s going to be a long flight.

***

Port Stephens, Australia, is a two-hour drive from Sydney and is known for its twenty-six beaches. A sense of peace settles in my soul when I step off the plane. I’m home. I’ll heal. There’s nothing that can’t be fixed with a beach, a wave, and a good stiff drink—at least, that’s what Nan has always claimed.

I grab a taxi to the townhouse that Nan transferred into my name when she went into care. I can’t feel anything and am freezing despite the heat. I may never get warm again. I don’t have any luggage, so I trudge up to the lift, hitting the button for the fourteenth floor. The doors close, and I spend a few minutes staring at my feet.

I punch in the code for the lockbox at the door, grab the key, and head into the townhouse. The air is stale, and I can tell by the thin layer of dust coating multiple surfaces it’s been a few weeks since the cleaning company has been by. It doesn’t matter to me, so I trudge back to my room, opening the sliding glass door to the balcony. Immediately, the scent of sand and sea fills the space, and a breeze from the ocean clears out the remaining stale air.

I stand at the door for a moment, just watching the waves. For the last three years, all I could think about was getting back here, getting a job that would allow me to support myself and Nan and get her out of that care home. That goal has been EVERYTHING. Every hour I worked, every meal I skipped, was to get to this point.

Now that I’m here, I’m numb.

Antony’s words bounce around in my head. The accusations about Mum… I always suspected he knew about me from the beginning, but now I know the truth. He really is a waste of oxygen. For all the vile things he was spewing about my mother, she never said an unkind word about him. She wanted nothing more than for me to have a relationship with my father but knew better than to reach out.

Now I know why. She took the money and ran as far as she could to give me the life that I deserved. She wanted better for me, and then I had to go and fall in love with a man who’s the mirror image of my sperm donor.

A Rich. Cold. Conceited. Asshole.

I turn around, walk to the bed, and fall face-first on the mattress. I’m so tired. I just can’t anymore. I grab the throw from the end of the bed and catch a faint whiff of Nan’s favorite washing powder. The scent breaks me, and once the tears start to fall, they don’t stop. I sob for what may be hours before I finally fall asleep with the smell of the ocean and the warm December breeze in my room.

***

I’m unsure how long I’ve slept, but the sun is below the horizon by the time I wake up, and I have the worst case of cottonmouth. Sitting up, I clutch my throbbing head. I’m dehydrated and jet-lagged.

I stumble into the kitchen and grab a glass, filling it with water from the sink. I gulp three cups full before I finally start to feel semi-human again. I look around the dark townhouse, take a deep breath, and return to the bedroom with a fourth glass of water. I place it on the side table, crawl into bed, and prop myself against the headboard.

I pull out the cheap prepaid mobile from my handbag and open at least twenty text messages from Stella. Not wanting to deal with all of it, I text her to say that I’m safe and that I would message her later. Then I check the time. She’s probably asleep anyway. Good. The last thing I feel like right now is talking Stella down from doing something she might eventually regret. Prison orange is not her color. I toss the phone at the foot of the bed and wrap myself back up in the throw blanket.

I have so much to do. The least of which is arranging for all my items to be packed up and shipped from my apartment. I sling my legs out of the bed and head over to the dresser. My old panda pajamas stare back at me from the top drawer. I smile. Nan got these for my eighteenth birthday. It’s a running joke between us that I was born on the wrong continent, as we have “the wrong bears” because I love pandas. I don’t care how cute the tourists think koalas are. Truth is, they’re nothing but Chlamydia-carrying demons.

Stepping into the en suite, I splash water on my face before finally looking at myself in the mirror. My hair is messy, I have bags under my eyes, and my skin is pale. I change into my panda pajamas and throw my grungy clothes in the general direction of the hamper. I can’t deal with anything else today. Tomorrow Maisie can have that chore as well. Then I flip off the light and head back to bed.

Tomorrow will be better. It has to be, right?

Chapter 24

Jack

Icall the director of human resources to get Maisie’s file emailed to me. She has a home address in Brownsville and lists Gio as her emergency contact. Then I wait at the airport and take the first available seat back to New York. As soon as I land at JFK, I grab a town car and head straight to her apartment.

As the driver turns into her neighborhood, I suck in a stuttered breath. It’s not the worst area in the city, but it could be better. Maisie has been living here this whole time, and I never knew. Well, this is the first thing that’s going to change. Maisie will never live somewhere where she’s anything less than absolutely safe, and she will not live somewhere where homeless people piss on the stoops at night.

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