Rise - Part Two (Rise #2)(16)

Each time I'd flown on a private jet to go see Ansel, I'd sat in the first seat in the second row. In my anxious mind that translated to seat 2B so I was in that seat when Gianna walked through the door and sat down right next to me.

"You've accomplished so much at such a young age." She turns my hand over so she can examine the watch I'm wearing. It's the same watch I always wear. It's the one Ivy gave to me. "Is this part of your cousin's collection?"

I answer quickly. "It is. Ivy made this for me."

"Gabriel is impressed with you both." She carefully places my hand into my lap before she pulls her hand away. "He's a perfectionist, you know. He isn't impressed very easily."

I do know that. I've sensed it not only in the way he carries himself but in the way he runs his business. "I'm learning a lot from him. I'm grateful the he believes in me."

"He does." She arches her long, elegant neck so she's looking directly at the flight attendant standing a few feet in front of his. "Landon believes in you too."

I anticipated hearing his name on this flight. I know that Gianna is close to him. It has to stem from the experiences they all shared the day his father drowned, or almost drowned.

"He told me to watch over you on the flight." Her gaze drops to her lap. "I told him that you could take care of yourself."

I don't want the words to segue into a discussion about Ansel. I know from what Landon has shared with me, that Gianna read the letter that I left on the plane the day I met her. She's had a glimpse into a love that I once shared with a famous man. I expect that she's drawn conclusions about me and perhaps about whether I'm a good match for Landon.

I respect her position as the mother of the man I'm working for and as a friend of the man I'm sleeping with, but I can stand on my own. If push comes to shove, I'm not above reminding her that the letter was private and meant for only my eyes.

"Do you speak with him? The musician?"

I try not to let my defenses kick in too quickly. It's an innocent question. "I don't. I saw him in New York last week. We spoke briefly then."

She nods. The simple gesture soothes the uncertainty I feel. I'm hopeful that my answer was enough to satiate her curiosity about Ansel.

I was wrong.

"I'd like to speak with him." She gestures towards my smartphone, which is resting on my lap. "Can I get his number from you?"

I want to believe that she's asking out of pure curiosity. After all, she was the one who clued Landon in to who Ansel was. "Why do you need his number?"

She turns towards me again. "My youngest son is a musician too. I'm going to visit him this weekend. I'd like to connect the two of them."

I've only heard whispers about Asher Foster. I know, from the information I read online, that he worked in the corporate world until recently. I also know, from many of the articles written about him on gossip websites, that he's battled addiction for most of his adult life.

"I don't have Ansel's number. I can give you his manager's name if that helps."

Her eyes brighten with the suggestion. "I'd appreciate that, Tess. I'll do anything in my power to help my son."





Chapter 15


––––––––

"You can run that business of yours from here." My father points to the carpeted floor of his condo. "I know you can do it if you set your mind to it."

I smile at the suggestion. Whenever I see my father in person I wish we lived closer to one another. He's spent most of the last hour telling me how incredibly proud he is of me. He even went so far as to tell me he called my mother to thank her for helping him raise such a wonderful daughter.

I usually tell my dad everything. I don't do that because he demands the details of my life. I do it because I have faith in my relationship with him. I know he trusts my judgment and I have little doubt that if I need straight-from-the-hip advice that my dad will be the person to give it to me.

"My life is in New York." I tap my fingers on my father's hand. "I'm building my company and I'm making a lot of new friends."

I instantly see the doubt in my dad's eyes. "You can't trust everyone you meet, Tess. You mentioned a new fellow you were dating, what's he like?"

"He's gorgeous." I cover my mouth with my hand to shield the smile I know is on my face.

He leans back in the kitchen chair he's sitting in causing the wood to creak. "He's gorgeous? That's all you've got?"

I laugh out loud at his response. I love when he teases me. It means he's happy and relaxed.

For much of my childhood, my father was busy with work. His job selling insurance to people and companies was time consuming and stressful but he did his best to leave his work at the door when he got home from his long business trips. We never met any of his sales team because he wanted to keep his job completely separate from his family life.

I never once felt as though I wasn't a priority in his life. Otis Marlow may have been one of the best salesmen on the east coast at the time, but he didn't boast about it. He saved enough to retire early so that he can travel to see me and my siblings, and his two grandchildren, whenever the urge strikes him. He's happier now than I've ever seen him. When he made the move to California it was unexpected but it's done him a world of good.