Prodigal Son Read Online Free PDF Page B

That’s fairly irresistible.”
    Except for Samantha, that had always been his take on it, too. So why did he get the feeling that she didn’t see the list as a good thing?
    “Some women manage to resist,” he said. “What about you? Ready to start dating?”
    “I don’t think so. Not for a while. Divorce has a way of sucking the confidence out of a person. Or at least it did me.”
    He couldn’t believe that. She had always been confident. Smart, funny, gorgeous. “It doesn’t show.”
    She smiled. “Thanks. I’m getting by on sheer determination.”
    “It’s working.”
    He wanted to tell her she had nothing to worry about—that she was as desirable as ever and he was willing to prove it.
    Not a good idea, he reminded himself. So instead of speaking, or acting, he stood. “It’s late. Charlie and I need our beauty sleep.” He whistled softly. “Come on, boy.”
    Charlie rose and stretched. He licked Samantha’s hand, then joined Jack.
    She got up and followed them to the front door. “Thanks for stopping by. Dinner was great. I appreciated the company, as well.” She crouched down and rubbed Charlie’s ears. “You’re a very handsome boy. We’ll have to get together again soon.”
    Charlie barked his agreement.
    Figures, Jack thought with a grin. After all these years, she falls for the dog.

Chapter Three
    N early a week later, Jack sat behind what had been his father’s desk, cursing his agreement to take over the company, even temporarily. Every day brought a new crisis and, with it, bad news. At this point all he was asking for was twenty-four hours without something major going wrong.
    He’d already had to deal with the IT people informing him that their webpages were nearly at capacity and, to support the expansion, they were going to have to negotiate with their server. The previous quarter’s report showed magazine subscriptions falling for their three best publications. A train derailment had destroyed nearly a hundred thousand magazines heading to the West Coast markets and he’d just seen the layout for the launch of their new home-decorating magazine and even he could tell it sucked the big one.
    There was too much to deal with, he thought. How the hell had his father done all this and run several departments?
    Jack leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. He already had the answer to that one—George Hanson hadn’t done it well. Things had slipped and there’d been no time to fix them before the next crisis had appeared. Despite hiring department heads, Jack was still overwhelmed by the sheer volume of work.
    As far as he could tell, there was only one way for Hanson Media Group to survive—he had to get more help.
    He buzzed for his assistant. When Mrs. Wycliff entered his office, he motioned for her to take a seat.
    “I need to get in touch with my brothers,” he said. “Do you know where Evan and Andrew are these days?”
    If the older woman was surprised that Jack didn’t know where to find his brothers himself, she didn’t show it.
    “I’m sorry, I don’t,” she said. “Would you like me to try to find them?”
    “Please. I suggest you follow the credit-card charges. That’s generally the easiest way.” Evan favored Europe and Andrew tended to follow the seasons—summering in exclusive beach resorts and wintering in places like Whistler and Gstaad.
    Jack knew all the psychobabble about siblings. In every family each tried to get his parents’ attention in a different way. For Jack, it had been about being the best at whatever he did. He’d learned early that he was expected to take over the family business and for a long time he’d worked toward that. But in the end, he’d walked away from Hanson Media Group, just like his brothers.
    None of them had made the old man proud.
    Did Evan and Andrew ever feel guilty? Jack had tried to make peace with his father more than once, but the old man had never seemed interested. All he’d talked about was how