Rock Him (3 page)

Moments later, the doorbell rang and Sterling admitted Asher’s legal team.

The discussion with the two lawyers in the study was brief. One of the men had drawn
up Delilah’s will when Ella was born — the terms were inarguable. Sterling was given
copies of all the relevant legal documents and the men departed.

Once they had gone, Sterling pulled Asher aside. “I’ll give you four months. If there
are ongoing adjustment problems, if she’s lonely, if you aren’t parenting adequately,
I’ll come after you for custody.”

Asher stood, motionless, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Who do you think you are? That’s
not for you to decide — ”

His father stood his ground. “I’m her grandfather, and I love her. She knows me; she’s
comfortable here. Your lifestyle — ”

“Here we go again.
My
lifestyle? What about yours, you son of a bitch? Dee and I only had each other growing
up. You were completely MIA as a parent. Shipping us off to boarding school and then
going on ski vacations while we had to do holidays with strangers?” Asher hissed.

His father met his eyes. “Yes. And I’m sorry for it. I made amends with Dee. I’ve
handed over a lot of my responsibilities with the company. I’m not working as much
— ”

“Good for you,” Asher spat.

“While you work all the time, and in your business, God know what sort of unsavory
characters you have dealings with. I don’t want her exposed to your lifestyle.”

Asher’s fists clenched. “You know
fuck all
about me and my life.”

His father’s demeanor was calm, his tone even. “I made mistakes with you and Dee,
Asher, but I’d do anything for Ella. I owe it to her and to Dee. I’ll come after you,
and believe me the courts will lean in favor of a man like me over a man like you.
I won’t sit idly by. Four months, Asher.” Sterling walked away.

Asher seethed silently, stomach roiling, and made his way back to the empty living
room where he called his assistant. “Where are you?”

“Ten minutes away.”

“Okay. I want out of here the day after tomorrow, first flight out after the funeral.”

Justin sighed. “I thought you’d come later in the week. The jet’s in Mexico, remember?
That indie band — ”

“Can you get it here?”

“Not that soon. Maybe Sterling — ”

“Forget it. Book us first-class commercial.”

“
Commercial
?”

“Just do it.”

Maddy’s layover in Las Vegas on her way to Los Angeles was brief. So brief, she ended
up running through the airport like an old-time linebacker in a rental car commercial.
She was the last person on the plane before the doors closed; the flight attendant
checked her seat assignment and took her to task with a cluck.

Hip joints that ached from the uncomfortable seats on the first leg of the flight
were now screaming in agony after that mad dash through the airport.

Still, it was impossible to miss the movie-star handsome, vaguely familiar man and
the hysterically sobbing, angelic-looking child holding on to him in a mostly empty
first-class section she had to pass through to reach her own seat in row 32. The man
was obviously trying to get the little girl to buckle up but she was clinging to him
like a limpet. He glared at the flight attendant, an older, gray-haired woman, who
scowled back.

“Sir, we’re ready to push back, she needs to be strapped in or you both need to get
off.
”

Her words made the child shriek still louder — she was asking for something, but Maddy
couldn’t quite make it out.

Maddy put her carry-on down in the empty seat next to her and knelt next to him, wincing.
She met the man’s harried gaze. “What’s her name?”

“Ella.”

“Does she have a blanket or a toy or something?” Every child traveling needed an item
of comfort. Maddy didn’t have kids, but she’d been around them all her life. Stressful
situations required thumbs, stuffed animals, blankets … especially at four or five,
or whatever age she was.

The guy gave her a blank look. “A what?”

Why did he look so familiar?

Maddy’s brow wrinkled. “A blanket?”

The child stopped crying and put her thumb in her mouth, staring at Maddy with huge,
nut-brown eyes, lashes clumped together with tears.

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Mmm … I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”

Maddy frowned. “Is this your child?”

“My niece.”

Ah. That explained it. “Does she have a little blanket?”

The light dawned in those shockingly brilliant hazel eyes. “Yes,” he said slowly.
“Is that what she’s asking for?”

Maddy nodded.

The child nodded.

“Sir,” said the flight attendant.

He rose, baring his teeth in a facsimile of a grin.

The flight attendant recoiled from the look, muttering under her breath.

Maddy bit back a smile and backed up.

Opening the overhead bin, he felt around in a bag and pulled out a ratty blanket.
At one time it may have been pink, but it was now a well-loved, dingy gray.

The child reached for it, expression rapt.

“You.” He pointed to Maddy. “Sit there, please.”

The gray-haired woman in the airline uniform shook her head. “No, sir, she has a coach
seat.”

He gave her that look again. “I’ll pay the difference. She sits here.”

The woman grumbled but nodded to Maddy to sit in the seat the man had indicated.

The man reached for her carry-on, and examined the plastic baggage tag containing
her identifying information before putting it in the overhead bin. He gave the tag
a tug with two fingers. “Madeline?”

That’s what I get for helping. Now this guy knows my name and address.
She examined him for signs that he was a creeper. What she found instead were signs
of strain and sleeplessness that should have made him less attractive but didn’t.

Why do I feel like I’ve seen this guy before? Is he an actor?

His longish hair was a rich mahogany, and he had the kind of face talent scouts dream
about, chiseled perfection marred by a slightly angular, prominent nose and strong
chin. By far, his most striking feature was his eyes. Hazel or brown didn’t do them
justice. They were golden, almost yellow in the center, edged by a dark brown ring
and framed by the thickest eyelashes Maddy had ever seen.

“Please, sit,” golden-eyes said.

Maddy settled into the aisle seat across the way from him.

The flight attendant picked up a phone and mumbled something into the mouthpiece about
takeoff, then buckled herself into the jump seat.

Maddy snuck a look at the man again. The child had curled up against him and was starting
to nod off. She was asleep before they reached cruising altitude.

After declining the flight attendant’s offer for refreshment, Maddy pulled her e-reader
from her bag and settled in to read in the awkward silence.

“Thank you, Madeline,” he said.

“It’s Maddy.”

“Thanks, Maddy.”

“No problem.”

“As you can see, I’m a little out of my depth here.” His smile was disarming as he
reached out to shake her hand. “Asher Lowe.”

She reached across the aisle, and he stared at her misshapen, too thin hand with its
red, swollen joints.

The corners of his mouth pulled down as he took it carefully in his.

She freed her hand, and her polite smile faltered as his name registered.

Asher Lowe?

The front man for Spade? Rock god, notorious philanderer, and son of Sterling Lowe,
one of the richest men in America? She searched her celebrity memory banks — they
were rusty from disuse. She didn’t even recognize the reality starlets who graced
the covers these days, but once upon a time, she’d read entertainment magazines cover
to cover. Wasn’t his mom some Hollywood icon renowned for her unusual eyes? No wonder
he looked familiar.

Good Lord. Was she still staring at him? He lips had quirked into an insincere half-smile.
She glanced back toward coach. “Listen, everything seems to be under control here,
so I can just mosey on back to my seat — ”

“No.” He put a hand out to stop her, his tone panicked, his body radiating tension.

The little girl sighed in her sleep and shifted against him.

“Please stay,” he whispered. “Please.”

“Is she nervous about flying?” Maddy asked in a low tone.

His lips twisted and he examined Maddy through narrowed eyes “Probably. It’s not just
that,” he glanced around, “she’s … Ella’s … coming to live with me. Her mother
was killed three days ago in a car accident.”

Maddy gasped.

“We’re … uh … trying to figure this out.”

“
God
. I’m so sorry. How awful. Is her dad — ?”

“Not around. And, as you can probably see, I don’t know much about kids.”

Maddy glanced at his lap where the hand not holding the child was closed into a fist,
his smile belied by the tortured expression in his eyes.

“Momma?” Ella murmured in her sleep.

An expression of naked pain flashed across his face and he put his arm more securely
around her.

The little girl resettled against him with a sigh.

Maddy swallowed past the lump in her throat. “If there’s anything I can do … ”

“Thanks.”

She fingered her e-reader nervously.

“So, Maddy, do you live in Los Angeles?”

He wanted to make small talk
?

“Yeah. I’m finishing a master’s degree in education.”

He nodded. “It’s obvious you know your way around kids.”

She shrugged. “My mom runs an in-home day-care and preschool. I helped out a lot growing
up. How old is she?”

“Five. Kindergarten.”

Maddy bit her lip, raising her eyes to meet his gaze. “Kids are amazingly resilient.”
She backtracked. “What I mean is … I … uh … can’t imagine how she’ll cope with
the death of her mother but, in general, they are adaptable. Especially at her age.
It’s one of the things I love about working with them.”

Maddy lowered her eyes, but she could still feel his gaze, assessing her.

He grunted. “You from LA?”

“No, a little town in Virginia, about an hour from DC.”

“I thought I heard the trace of a southern accent.”

She laughed, softly. “And here I thought I’d beaten it back.”

“So why Los Angeles?”

She met his eyes. Kind of a personal question, but he had certainly shared a doozy
with her. Then again, maybe it was common knowledge? People like the Lowes were fodder
for the news magazines. “Lots of reasons. I wanted a change from the East Coast …
the winters can be tough.”

His gaze dropped to her lap, then moved back to her face. “I couldn’t help noticing
… ”

“It’s rheumatoid arthritis,” she said, steeling herself for the ‘helpful’ suggestions
that usually followed that revelation. Starting with “aren’t you a little — ”

He cocked his head. “Arthritis? Aren’t you a little young?”

With an inward sigh she launched into her twenty second spiel. “Not osteoarthritis.
Rheumatoid. Different thing altogether. RA is an autoimmune disorder. You can have
it show up at as a child or adult.” If she had a dollar for every time she explained
this to someone, she wouldn’t have any outstanding student loans.

“And yours?”

“I was diagnosed as a teenager.”

“Tough,” he said, his expression sympathetic.

She shrugged. “I don’t let it hold me back.”

“Looks painful.”

She didn’t respond, rubbing her fingers self-consciously. Desperate to change the
subject, she blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Were you close with your
sister?” She regretted the question as soon as it was out of her mouth. The expression
of grief that crossed his face made her wince. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “No, it’s okay. Yeah, we were close. She’s my only
sister — we had the same dad, different mothers, but it wasn’t … we were close.”
The flight attendant saved Maddy from sticking her foot in her mouth again by starting
the snack service, and Ella awoke. She stared at the cold sandwich with disinterest.

“Ella, please eat,” he urged.

“But I don’t like it.”

Maddy reached into the a la carte menu in the seat pocket in front of her. She flipped
it open and pointed to an item. She noticed he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away
from her hands. When he finally raised his eyes to scrutinize her, she had schooled
her features into neutrality. She was used to people staring.

He looked at Maddy in askance and made a face at the items she indicated. “Applesauce
and goldfish?”

Ella lit up. “Oh yes, Uncle Asher. I’m hungry.”

He mouthed “thank you” to Maddy and pushed the bell for the flight attendant.

• • •

For the remainder of the flight, Asher sat back as Ella and Maddy discussed kindergarten,
fairies, and favorite movies across him. It was like listening to a foreign language.
Ella was animated for the first time since they had broken the news to her, and she’d
gone an hour without sobbing. Maddy had a real knack for drawing her out. Progress.

The woman was attractive — pretty, really. Her thick, brown hair framed an oval face
with high cheekbones. Her complexion was skin care commercial beautiful, and her eyes
— not quite blue, closer to the gray of the Pacific Ocean on a foggy day — were serious
under delicately winged brows. She was thin, too thin to his mind and he was accustomed
to thin women, living in Los Angeles. Was her weight related to her disease?

She was good with Ella.

He glanced at her ring finger. Bare. Not that a ring-less finger meant anything. He’d
have someone check into her background. His assistant was vetting some of the best
nannies in the business, but this Madeline Anderson had made Ella smile for the first
time in days, had plenty of experience working with kids, and seemed unfazed by the
Lowe name. It wouldn’t hurt to have her investigated, just in case.