Page 1 of Holding On

PROLOGUE

Her name pops up on my cell phone and I tap my screen as fast as possible to connect the call on speaker. When we spoke to her just before taking off from London, her updates had been a mix of okay, bad, and terrible news.

“What do you know?” I don’t waste my breath or her time with pleasantries.

“Is Wells with you?” Daphne Cromwell asks as the background noise of wherever she is fades away. Her firm is on retainer with our company and she was my first call en route to the airport after we heard the news.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Wells leans forward from his seat on the other side of the table, his knuckles white from gripping the armrest. Our company jet departed London two hours ago, but despite being billionaires, we can’t change the fact that it’s a seven-plus-hour flight to New York City. We’ve barely spoken to each other in the last few hours since we got the call, unless it was related to trying to find out more information about the situation.

“I wish I had better news to report, but I just got an update from her surgical team.” Daphne’s voice cracks on the last word, and that’s unheard of when it comes to her typical British stiff upper lip ways. My stomach lurches because if Daphne is struggling to tell us, then it’s even worse than we initially heard.

“Just say it, Daph,” Wells says barely above a whisper.

Daphne clears her throat. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to tell you right now, but I don’t think she’s going to make it. It’s bad, it’s really fucking bad.”

CHAPTER ONE

8.5 YEARS BEFORE PRIOR CHAPTER

Grabbing my cell, I climb out of my midnight-blue metallic Ford GT luxury sports car. It’s one of my more obnoxious vehicles, but sometimes it’s just fun to drive a fast car. I wouldn’t have driven it tonight, but this venue has secure underground parking. I nod at the security guard as he admires my vehicle. “That’s an incredible ride. I’ll keep a close eye on her for you, sir.” He smiles. I can’t blame the guy for checking her out; she is a beautiful machine.

“I’d appreciate that, man,” I say in passing as I head to the bank of elevators. They open and one of my business partner’s team leaders sticks his arm out to hold the elevator door for me.

“Good evening, Mr. Callahan,” he greets me.

“Hey, Tom, we’ve talked about this. It’s just Jack.” I extend my hand to shake his. Some people just can’t get past my last name—or the bank account associated with it. “Especially after your recent promotion to lead your team. Congratulations on that, by the way. Well deserved.”

We make small talk as we ride the elevator, which opens to the backstage area. I follow Tom, but I’m forced to stop in my tracks when an absolute vision walks out of one of the rooms and crosses into another green room. She has wild red hair and is wearing cowboy boots with tight denim shorts that showcase an incredible ass, and a smile that I bet would light up even the darkest room.

Time slows.

My breath stalls.

And then she laughs.

Her laughter is a soft melodic dance that I can feel in my soul. What is happening right now?

And then she’s gone. I want to follow her; I have to meet this goddess. I’ve never reacted to a woman like this before in my entire thirty-three years of life. A group of musicians follow her into the room, so she must be performing tonight. I’ll find her after the show.

I can be patient when necessary. I’m a lot of things, and I can be relentless when I want something.

And I want her.

“Right this way, Mr. Callahan,” the young executive says as he leads the way up a flight of stairs to the VIP area on the balcony for the concert. Waiting at the private bar is Wellington Sinclair: my college roommate, one of my best friends, and business partner for the last fourteen years.

“Jack!” Wells exclaims as he walks over and we pat each other on the back as we briefly hug. “It’s so damn good to see you, man.”

Wells and I started our entertainment streaming company when we were in college. Our unique approach to allowing artists to retain the rights to their music, while giving them access to the platform—along with a healthy dash of luck of the Irish—has resulted in tremendous success for our company. Lux has been illuminating artists…

And our bank accounts.

Who knew that two college kids trying to right a wrong and dinking around with computer code could lead to an entire empire? And that’s exactly what Lux is today—an entire empire. Over the years, we expanded to all entertainment media avenues, and after Wells started the production company five years ago, we now even produce our own television shows and movies. Wells oversees that part of our business, with our friend Max Riley managing the music portion, and I focus on the overall company direction and growth.

Wells is a savant when it comes to computer coding and all things tech. I was always impressed with my brother Liam’s IQ score of one-forty-five until Wells casually mentioned one day that his IQ is one-sixty-two. But if someone were to look at his ever-expanding tattoo sleeve, glasses, and black T-shirt with black jeans, he looks more like he belongs on the stage performing rather than running our multi-billion-dollar company. A lot has changed in our lives since we started our company in our college dorm room, but neither Wells nor myself have allowed the obscene amount of success to change who we are at the core.

He is still the guy that loves to enjoy life no matter what and is fiercely loyal, and I’m the guy that will always show up for my people—even if they all will say I take life too seriously.

It would be nice to see my business partner and friend more than I do, but he mainly stays in London and I’m primarily in Nashville, so when he told me his little sister was having a concert in Nashville, I made sure my assistant cleared my schedule. It’s been over six months since Wells and I have been in the same place, even though we talk multiple times a week. Plus, it’ll be nice to see his sister again since it’s been … shit … at least a decade, if not more, since I’ve seen Tinsley.