Until We Touch (Fool's Gold #15)(23)

“Taryn has some campaign ideas she wants feedback on,” Sam told him. “Stop by her office when you get a chance.”

“Sure thing,” Jack said.

He went to see Taryn and faked his way through a conversation on which colors popped more on a new rum campaign, then wandered back to his own desk. He was both hoping to see and dreading running in to Larissa. They had to get their problem worked out. Of course, that would first require him knowing what the problem was and then fixing it.

By four he was ready to be done for the day. He’d accomplished little and there didn’t seem to be much hope for improvement. He was going to go home, have some quality time with a merlot and a few highlight reels, then come up with a plan to fix things with Larissa. He had plenty of women he could call. Maybe a wild weekend with one of them would cure what ailed him.

He turned to shut down his computer just as Larissa walked into his office. Her shoulders were slumped and tears filled her eyes. He was instantly on his feet.

“What?” he asked, circling his desk toward her.

She drew in a shuddering breath. “Mary died. Early this morning. I just got the call.”

He held out his arms even as he wondered who Mary was. With Larissa there was an equal chance that Mary was a kid or an orangutan.

“Mary had the liver transplant last year,” she said, shaking slightly as she stepped into his embrace. “I told you she wasn’t doing well and that we were concerned.”

He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her back. While the stupid side of him noticed how well they fit together and the way her body pressed against every inch of his, the more mature areas of his brain understood this was a moment of grief and allowed him to act appropriately.

“You just sent them that book,” he said, remembering their recent conversation about the girl. “I’m sorry she died. Her family must be devastated.”

“They are. We were all so hopeful.”

“Because a transplant usually works.” Although not always. Because sometimes the body didn’t want to be saved. That was his theory, anyway. Whatever the spirit might wish, there were other forces at work. He knew that pain personally.

He tugged on the end of her ponytail until she looked up at him. “You know you’re not to blame, right?”

Her cheeks were damp and slightly flushed. She sniffed once, then nodded. “I know.”

“I’m not convinced.”

She swallowed. “There’s nothing I could have done to save her. I’m just sad she’s gone. She was a great kid.” She rested her head on his shoulder and began to cry again.

He held on to her. For as long as she cried, he wouldn’t let go. He wasn’t sure how this had started, but now it simply was. When they lost one, and with transplants the possibility was always there, Larissa came to him and he was there for her. No matter what.

He remembered getting a call while he’d been in Hawaii with a former Victoria’s Secret model. Eight hours later, he’d landed at LAX and gone directly to Larissa’s house. He’d stayed with her until she’d finally fallen asleep, and in the morning he’d helped her find the right way to celebrate the child’s life.

“Think about what you want to do in Mary’s name,” he said softly. “Maybe American Girl dolls for every patient in her hospital.”

Larissa looked at him. “I don’t think the boys would appreciate that.”

“You’re right. We could get them something else.”

“Maybe,” she murmured. “Let me think about it.”

He kissed her forehead, then grabbed his car keys. “Come on. I’m buying you dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I know, but you will be.”

* * *

LARISSA GLANCED AROUND the restaurant. Margaritaville had been pretty quiet when they’d arrived, but it was filling up now. There were plenty of locals, but also lots of tourists, which was good for the economy.

Her initial grief had passed. It was always like this, she thought sadly. When one of the children they helped died. She hated the loss and the pain, and knew that whatever she was feeling, the families were suffering so much more.

Jack pushed the chips toward her. He’d ordered tableside guacamole and chips to start, telling their server they would get to food later.

“If you don’t eat something, you’re going to feel crappy in the morning,” he pointed out.

“I know.” She reached for a chip. “It’s the margaritas. They’re really strong.”

“Such a girl drink.”

She glanced at his glass. “Because beer is so masculine?”

“You know it.”

“Monks invented champagne.”

He grinned. “We’re not drinking champagne.”

She smiled back at him, only to remember what had happened. The smile faded.

“Mary was a sweet girl. So happy.” Larissa had only met her once, but she’d emailed a lot with her mother. “The transplant gave her an extra year. That’s something, right?”

“Yes, and it gave her hope. She and family were allowed to imagine a better future. You do good work, Larissa. You have to remember that.”

“You’re the one who has the money to give them,” she pointed out.