Surprise Daddies (#1-4 Box Set)

by London James

  My equilibrium is off for a minute when I stand. When everything finally feels like it isn’t about to slide sideways, I stand in front of the full-length mirror and throw my hand over my mouth.

  I immediately start crying. It’s better than I could have ever imagined. It’s beautiful. It’s everything I wanted. The galaxy swirls around mysteriously, the cursive lettering is delicate and precise, and the blue in the butterfly is so vivid it looks real.

  “I love it,” I choke out.

  “Can I ask what it stands for?”

  “It’s in memory of an old friend.” Which isn’t a lie. It’s true.

  His eyes soften as if he can relate. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Emotion clogs my throat again when I think of Rowan. “Yeah, me too.”

  Me too, Andy.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rowan

  Four years later…

  The Overlook view stares at me in the face as I drink my morning coffee. The sun is barely peeking over the snow-capped mountains. Pinks and oranges glow against what’s left of the night sky, threatening the early morning. I’m so glad we decided to get this land and build on it. It has been the perfect spot.

  LifeRight Financial has taken off. We went from a multi-million start-up to multi-billion firm in as little as four years. We’re doing so well, that if I wanted to, I wouldn’t even have to come into work. But I do because I like to do my part. Plus, I’m a little young to retire, and I enjoy working, so Gray and I have decided to only work three days a week so we can concentrate on our other endeavours.

  We own a few nightclubs in Spokane now, Flamingo’s isn’t the only one anymore, and we even have our own beer company. It’s all just for fun. My life is good; I have zero complaints. Well, except one. I want to reach out to Everly. It’s been so hard not messaging her or calling her to want to celebrate every milestone in my life.

  I convinced myself I would get over that. I thought I’d meet someone else by now, but I never get that feeling like I do—did—with Everly. And even when I would date people, anytime something happened, good or bad, I didn’t want to call them first; I wanted to call Everly.

  But ever since our parents married, it’s turned an awkward situation into an impossible one. I think about her, and I struggle with that; even though I can’t speak for her or for what she thinks, but I know it adds a layer of ‘what the fuck’ to the already ‘what the fuck’ relationship we have.

  Last time I saw her was four years ago, and even with our parents being married, she doesn’t come home for the holidays. Instead, she waits until I’m gone to come home, so now we have this unspoken arrangement that we have fallen into. She goes there Christmas Eve; I go there Christmas Day. Honestly, now that I think about it, I have no idea how it happened. I guess we are still that good at figuring out one another.

  I never have and never will think of her as my stepsister. We are adults, and we were adults when our parents married. We can’t help what happened in the past, and to be honest, even after all these years, I still hold a grudge. I’m still mad. I shouldn’t be. I should grow out of it and move on, but the thought still makes me irate.

  Now that I’m older, I realize I don’t want someone in my life that would just walk out so easily, friend or not. I don’t need people like that in my life. It will not benefit me or make me a better person or improve my life. It will bring me down, and that’s exactly what Everly Madison does.

  My heart aches when I think of her, but it isn’t as bad since it’s been so long. It seems like the friendship didn’t even happen.

  Even if the picture in the drawer says otherwise.

  “Knock, knock.” Gray thumps on the door frame and leans against it in his fancy suit.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” I clear my throat and run my hand down my tie. I don’t know why I started wearing these damn things. I hate them. I always end up taking them off by the end of the day because they’re so uncomfortable.

  “You’re here early.”

  “Yeah, couldn’t sleep. It’s a big day.” I roll the chair closer to my desk and look at the clock. In less than an hour, we have a conference call with investors from China and Japan. We are trying to go international, and while we don’t have to because we do really well in the United States, we want the company to keep growing.

  He struts into the room with his hand in his pockets and sits down. “Is the Rowan Michaels nervous?” he smirks.

  “Hell yeah, I am. If they say no, it won’t look good for the company.”

  “We are the number one new financial service in America, Rowan. I don’t think the company will take a hard hit.”

  “I know, you’re right. You’re right.”

  He sits his feet on my desk, crossed at the ankle, stating cockily, “I know. I’m always right.”

  It was his idea four years ago to make this building bigger than I wanted. We were still new, still growing, and I had no idea what I was doing, but Gray had all the faith in the world with this company. He wanted to make the building ten stories tall.

  We fought about it every day. It even caused issues with breaking ground. The construction company started to get frustrated with all the delays, so I caved and told them to listen to whatever Gray wanted. My fear kept holding me back, and Gray never seemed to have any.

  Here we are, four years later. Every story is full. There are no more offices. If anything, we need to expand. We’ve already bought the property next to us, and we plan on adding an additional ten-story building soon. Gray’s instincts were right, so now I never question him. His lack of fear is what is so great for this company. This company wouldn’t be where it is if it wasn’t for him.

  “You’re not wrong,” I concede, loosening my tie and yanking it off. I unbutton the top of my shirt and let out a breath. “That’s so much better.”

  “I don’t know why you try and wear those things. You have such a relaxed dress code for everyone else, but you are determined to wear suits.”

  “It looks professional for the owner to look his best.”

  “Hey, Rowan?”

  “Yeah, buddy?”

  “No one fucking cares about what you wear. They just want to get paid.” He laces his fingers together and stares up at the ceiling, sighing.

  I know that sigh.

  He did something he wasn’t supposed to, and now he dreads telling me. I’ve learned over the years that business partners are kind of like married couples. We know everything about each other. When we are annoyed, tired, lying, frustrated, or guilty. Or all the above.

  And he seems guilty.

  “What did you do?”

  He slides his eyes over to me and taps his fingers against his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Your legs are shaking, causing my pens to rattle in their holder. You don’t do that unless you are dreading to tell me something.”

  He bites his lips, staring at me again as he darts his eyes from the ceiling back to me, back to the ceiling. “Okay, you aren’t going to be happy about it…”

  I fold my arms on my desk and lean forward. The desk creaks from my weight. “What did you do?”

  He taps his finger on the indent of his chin. “I didn’t do anything bad, but you might frown upon it.”

  “Did you gamble our money away?” I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. I knew this day would happen.

  “What? No, of course not. What the hell, man? You know me better than that.”

  “I know you’re impulsive. And your mouth tends to run away from you and gets you into trouble.”

  He snaps his fingers. “I’ll keep that in mind, but no that’s not what I did.”

  “Did you pay for sex?”

  “How dare you. I never pay for sex.”

  “Kill somebody? Do I need to call a lawyer?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Invest in something you didn’t talk to me about?”

  He groans, “No. Shut up and let me
finish.”

  “Did you get roofied again? Stop leaving your drinks around.”

  “Rowan?”

  “Yeah, buddy?”

  “Shut up.”

  I zip my lips closed and throw the key away.

  He puts his feet down on the floor and exhales, “I talked to Everly.”

  The pencil I’m using to write in my calendar snaps in half.

  “What?” My voice is deep and a bit accusatory. I almost would have rather heard he killed somebody.

  “Yeah, she reached out to me.”

  I take a deep breath, trying not to let my emotions get the best of me. I want her to reach out to me, but that’s selfish because, at the same time, I don’t want to speak to her. The idea of her counting on another man bothers me still.

  Those pesky little unresolved feelings.

  “Oh yeah? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. Kind of.”

  “What do you mean, kind of?” I flex my fingers against the table and stand, towering over him.

  “Her identity got stolen. They drained all of her accounts, charged her credit cards, and now she can’t qualify for anything. She has to start over, and she didn’t know where to go.”

  “Is this the first time you’ve talked to her?”

  “No,” he admits with guilt.

  “How long?” I ask, my temper rising by the second.

  “Since we saw her last.”

  I shouldn’t care. But I do. My best friend is going behind my back to talk to the woman that controls every part of my being. I grab the holder for my pens and throw them against the wall. The black ceramic shatters, slamming on the floor in a million pieces.

  “Four fucking years? Are you kidding me? Are you fucking her, Gray? Is that it? Do you love her?”

  He stands this time and steps directly in front of me, taking my anger, but not backing down. “Don’t be mad at me for something that you can’t do. I’ve been giving her financial advice. No, I’m not fucking her, idiot. And I love her. Like a friend, nothing more. And maybe you wouldn’t be so mad if you were the one helping her, but instead you’re letting your pride get in the way.”

  “I don’t see her reaching out to me, either.”

  “She’s scared to reach out to you. After the last few interactions, she thinks you hate her, and she understands why.”

  I run my fingers through my hair, screwing up the style. I probably look crazy now. “Why not tell me sooner?”

  “Because of this reaction. You don’t ever react well when her name is mentioned. You get angry. Doesn’t matter how her name is mentioned, you act like this. I figured you don’t care what’s going on with her, so I took it upon myself to help her.”

  “I care,” I growl, trying to calm my raging breaths.

  “I know, or you wouldn’t act like this, but you balance on the line of hate and love. I should have told you. It’s only every few months we talk. I promise. Nothing more.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Not even a wink.”

  “Damn it.” I spin on my heel and look out the floor to ceiling windows. Bitterness starts to drown me. Right when I think I’m on the mend of getting over her, something happens that brings me back down again, and I have to start my Everly sobriety all over again.

  “I hate that I care,” I mutter through clenched teeth.

  “No, you don’t. Don’t be an asshole, man. Aside from whatever happened between you two, she’s had a tough time. The person that stole her identity has ruined her life. She can’t even find a job because when they look into her background, all they see is a criminal record, something she doesn’t have. She’s been working as a secretary at a tattoo shop, and they pay her under the table.”

  I snort when I think of her working around tattoos and piercings. I bet she feels so out of place. “Let me guess; you hired her a lawyer?”

  “Only the best.”

  “You should have talked to me about this.”

  “Why? So, you can refuse to help someone over your own pride and stubbornness? No thanks. She is a good person. I don’t know why she did what she did. It was for a reason, maybe not a good one, but you guys were eighteen. She’s human. She is going to make mistakes. It doesn’t mean you have to like it, but damn it, dude, take the high road. It’s getting really old,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Put on your big boy pants, and start acting like a man, and stop living in the past.”

  “I don’t—”

  “When it comes to her, you do. I’m not going to hold your hand anymore through your heartache. It’s been five fucking years, dude. Honestly, I don’t have the patience, either love her or let her go.”

  The phone rings, indicating the conference call I have. Gray puts on a smiling face, but I can see his aggravation hiding behind his blue eyes. He is right. I either need to love her or let her go, and all these years later, the fact that I haven’t figured that out yet is pretty pathetic.

  The part of me that I’ve been fighting all these years, doesn’t want to let her go. And I don’t even know how to handle that truth.

  Chapter Twelve

  Everly

  “No, that wasn’t me.” Tears brim my eyes at another rejection call for a job. “Someone has stolen my identity.”

  I sigh, “I know that sounds made up, but it is true. I have a lawyer you can talk to about it. Just give me a chance.” The first tear falls, and I hold back as much emotion as I can, and I tell them, “I understand. Yeah, have a great day too.”

  I let out a frustrated cry and throw my phone on the couch. It’s useless. I’m never going to be able to get a job. Don’t get me wrong, I love working at the tattoo shop, but Andy keeps asking me out, and I keep saying no because I know that wouldn’t work, and with how my life is going right now, I don’t even want to deal with a man.

  “No, luck?” Blaire asks, setting down the mail on the coffee table along with the New York Times.

  I cross my arms over my chest and pull my cardigan tighter around my waist. “No. Nothing. I don’t know what I’m going to do, Blaire.”

  “The tattoo shop really loves you. Just stay there.”

  “It isn’t my dream job. And I can’t just get paid under the table forever. I don’t want to have to settle just because someone fucked me over. It isn’t fair.”

  Blare just wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a hug. “I know. It will get better though. You have me, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

  I hold onto Blaire tight and just cry. It’s been so hard the last year. No one will hire me because of this asshole that got my social security number. Everything is ruined. I have an eighty-thousand-dollar student loan debt, my credit cards are nearly maxed out, I apparently have a criminal record now because of this person, and the only thing keeping me afloat and fed is the tattoo shop.

  A place I’m surprisingly feeling at home at. Andy will tease me about getting other tattoos, and when I tell him no, he just nods and says at least he can say he took my virginity. As in my skin virginity. For some reason, he feels really proud about that, and I just roll my eyes. Men are so difficult to understand.

  So, I just joke along and say, “Yeah, no one can ever compare to my first time with you.” And like always, he will just shoot me a wink. It used to make my stomach flip, but now I see Andy as the playboy he really is, and I’m not interested in someone like that. They are all kind to me, and luckily, they knew me before my identity was stolen, so they didn’t think twice before giving the job to me.

  But all I want to be is a veterinarian. It’s what I went to school for. I could open my own practice, but since my credit is shot from someone stealing my identity, I can’t even do that. I feel trapped, and I have nowhere to go. All I can do is hope the lawyer Gray set up for me is good and work at the tattoo shop until it can get cleared. It could take days, months, maybe even years.

  Blaire pulls back and wipes the tears off my face. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it will b
e okay.”

  “Sure,” I say as I sit down on the couch and grab the pile of mail that has red stamps all over it. Great. More late notices. I just add them to the bin of other bills that Gray told me to keep, so my lawyer had proof of those payments. “Bill, bill, bill, bill. Oh look, more bills.” I toss them in the bin one at a time. There must be twenty different credit card companies trying to get payment from me.

  But underneath all the junk and headaches, is a picture of Rowan on the front page of the New York Times. Slowly, I pick up the thick newspaper and lean back against the blue sofa. I smile at the image in front of me and read the article dedicated to Rowan and Gray. I want to laugh. I didn’t even see Gray in the picture. All of my focus is on the tall, blue eyed man smiling wide as he and Gray shake hands with two other men that look foreign.

  I squint my eyes to read the fine print below the picture. “Rowan Michaels and Grayson Jones shake hands with Takeru Tanaka and Lei Zhang, joining forces to expand LifeRight Financial to Japan and China.”

  “Oh wow, Rowan and his friend are making moves, huh?” Blaire says over my shoulder.

  I nod, my smile so wide my cheeks start to hurt. “I’m so happy for him. He has always been brilliant. He deserves it.” It makes me wonder if karma is being a bitch and making me pay for what I did to Rowan. But karma didn’t need to slap me so hard. I’ve lived with the pain, guilt, and regret of what I did to him and will for the rest of my life.

  “He looks happy,” Blaire observes.

  “He does.” The jealous part of me wishes he was happy with me. I’d settle for just being a part of his life now, as a friend. Someone he feels like he can share his accomplishments with. I grab my glasses off the table so I can read the article.

  The article starts off with how Gray and Rowan started the company from their dorm room in school. And after naming all the success they have had in the last four years, the journalist starts to talk about how the new multi-billionaires are now listed as the top bachelors in the United States.