LITMIR.BIZ

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had been going rather well in the wish department. Just last weekend he had attended the wedding of his oldest daughter, twenty-six-year-old Brandgwen, to one of his most cherished business associates. The happiness and love shining in Brandy’s eyes—just the way he had planned it—had made Jake overly confident. It had made him think he could have whatever he wanted, that God granted wishes to dying men.

      Or maybe acquiring the Rolls had seemed like less of a challenge than trying to save his middle daughter, Jessica, from herself.

      Jake sighed. Jessica announcing her engagement to Professor Mitch Michaels at Brandy’s wedding had put a black spot on the whole event.

      A black spot on his life.

      Possibly he was trying to erase it with the Rolls.

      He glared at the picture of the car on the Internet, and particularly at the disgustingly handsome young man who leaned beside it, grinning confidently, dark hair falling over eyes so like his grandfather’s had been. Dark, snapping with defiance.

      “I should have known he wouldn’t sell me the car,” Jake muttered. There was bad blood between the Blakes and the Kings. It hadn’t always been that way. No, far from it. That insolent young pup’s grandfather, Simon, had been Jake’s business partner, way before the phenomenal success story of Auto Kingdom. And it might have remained that way, if Simon’s son, Billy, hadn’t been such an arrogant ne’er-do-well.

      Billy would have sold him the car, Jake thought cynically. He would have sold it in a flash, just like he had sold everything else. But the grandson was a different story. Inner toughness shone from his eyes.

      Garner Blake had made something of himself, despite the horrendous debts he’d inherited as a result of his father’s runaway grandiosity. It seemed Garner shared his grandfather’s passion for cars. He brought old beauties back to life. He did it better than anyone else in the business.

      Jake knew these things. A man was smart to keep track of his enemies.

      The door to his office burst open, and his assistant, Sarah, came in with his new son-in-law’s baby, Becky, riding on her hip. Becky was staying at Kingsway while her dad and new mommy honeymooned.

      “Do you want to go see Grandpa Jake?” she asked the child.

      The baby’s weight settled against him, and he allowed himself to appreciate the miracle and the marvel of her. When he had found out he was dying he had wished for a grandchild. For happiness for his daughters. He had wished he could show them, somehow, that only one thing really mattered.

      Love.

      Okay, love and good cars, but mostly love.

      He had succeeded with his eldest daughter, succeeded beyond his wildest dreams at his first awkward attempt at matchmaking.

      But Jessie, his second daughter, was different. Jessie was disconnected and intellectual. Given those defects, Mitch Michaels was simply unsuitable. The good professor, while obviously an honorable and stable man, could only bring out those qualities in her. Her beauty would remain forever hidden under layers of prim control that Mitch actually seemed to encourage.

      Poor Jessie. The girl was twenty-four years old. She had no business acting so old. She always seemed to have her head down, in a book. She needed a man who could show her how to look up, dream a little, touch the sky.

      He mulled over the surprising poetry of those thoughts while the baby pulled at his nose and his ears.

      Really, especially after his episode with the Blake lad, it was beginning to feel like too much for him. What did he know of poetry and passion? Where could he find such things for his daughter? His energy was waning, his light dimming, and so much more quickly than he had expected.

      “Look what I found,” Sarah said. She looked like Brandy. And sometimes there was a lilt in her voice that reminded him of a time long ago.

      She plunked a picture down in front of him. Over the objections of his secretary, James, and just about everybody else in this household, he had given Sarah a job. She was sorting through mountains of photos and assembling memory albums, one for each of his daughters. Sarah was good at it, and he was glad he had hired her to put together a suitable memento for the daughters who had no idea that soon they would be looking at their father only in picture albums.

      “I didn’t quite know what to make of it.”

      Jake studied what she had placed before him. It was an old photo, sepia, the edges curling. It was a picture of himself as a young man, his arm looped casually around the shoulders of his best friend, Simon Blake. Jake felt a slight tremble in his hand. How odd that he had just hung up on Garner Blake and now this picture would be presented to him.

      Or perhaps not odd at all…The veil between the worlds of the seen and the unseen were thinning. Perhaps all things were linked in ways he had never allowed himself to believe before.

      He studied the photo of the two happy young men. Behind them, draped in a grand opening banner, was a building that couldn’t have possibly been big enough to hold all their youthful hopes and dreams. K & B Auto, the humble beginning of the Auto Kingdom empire in Farewell, Virginia.

      And the beginning of the end of something far more precious than all the successes he had ever enjoyed.

      The beginning of the end of his lifelong friendship with Simon. Not Simon’s fault. Simon’s son, Billy’s. Billy had managed to squander every single thing his father had worked for. In the end, Billy owned only his half of that small shop. No doubt he would have lost that, too, had Jake ever been willing to sell his share.

      Jake felt the sharpness of regret.

      Had he been too hard on Simon’s son? Probably. It was not until he had children of his own, long after Billy had grown, that he understood the complete helplessness of that love, the compulsion to overindulge.

      He recalled his conversation with Garner. Hadn’t he heard the stamp of Simon’s own resolve in that young man’s strong, confident voice? Yes. And he’d heard more. A fierceness of spirit that reminded him of who he himself, Jake King, had once been. Plus, that love of cars, passed to Garner straight from Simon.

      Jessie’s love of cars remained, too, under all that intellectual frou-frou.

      Jessie and Simon’s grandson. Was it possible? Could Jake repair his mistakes of the past and manipulate his daughter’s future in one fell swoop? A shiver traveled the length of his spine.

      Perhaps the gods would take pity on a man with so much to do, and so little time left. He snorted. This kind of thought had to be contained, or next he would be consulting his daily horoscope and reading crystals to find direction.

      Of course, where he was going, who was to say where the direction would come from? Perhaps hunch and instinct and all those nebulous things came from heaven’s door. Meanwhile, he had a lot of homework to do on Mr. Garner Blake before Jake would cross the young man’s path with that of his beloved Jessie.

      Reluctantly, he passed the baby back to Sarah. “Tell James I need to talk to Cameron McPherson, at once.”

      Did she color at the mention of that name? Ah, yes, he recalled. She had danced with Cameron at the wedding. He saw the longing flash through her eyes. Too bad it wouldn’t be so easy with Jessie.

      Three days later, with a thick folder in front of him, Jake redialed that number in Farewell, Virginia. He knew everything there was to know about Garner Blake. And he liked what he had found out. Garner was tough, but innately decent. What was best about his grandfather had survived in him. He had been nominated Citizen of the Year by the town of Farewell, and Jake’s sources told him Blake would win.

      He let none of what he was feeling—excitement and hope—show in his voice. Instead, Jake King informed Garner Blake, coldly, that his daughter would be coming to work at K & B Auto for the summer, to fill the long-vacant position of office manager.

      “Have you been spying on me?” Garner asked, his voice hard and incredulous.

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