Vince
Work at the Freeman Racing compound was getting a bit odd. All the changes going on in my brothers’ lives were getting in the way of our usual routine and making it harder to focus on what needed to be done. We were supposed to be on the compound making sure the racing bikes were in their best condition, putting the riders through practices to enhance their skills, and building marketing campaigns. But somehow things like baby shower favors and wedding colors kept drifting into perfectly normal activities.
Quentin’s wedding was so easy on all of us. After the announcement of Merry’s pregnancy, we all knew it was only a matter of time before they were going to get married. Quentin was head over heels for her. I’d never seen him so happy or so sure of anything. He would have done anything she wanted when it came to the wedding. As elaborate and dramatic as she wanted it, he would have figured out how to make it happen. And he had the resources to do it for her.
But Merry didn’t want that. She wanted to be married to Quentin and create a family for the baby they were expecting. That’s all that mattered to her. Not the pomp and circumstance. Not the attention that came with being a glowing bride. All that was important to her was being able to finally call Quentin her husband.
For them, it was an exciting time looking forward to being married. For the rest of us, it felt like we were getting off easy. There weren’t going to be any complicated plans or expectations from any of us. Instead, they ordered food from their favorite restaurants in the area, decorated the field on the compound they both loved, and got dressed in simple, casual clothes that made them feel comfortable.
We all chose to give Merry a bit of a pass when it came to her attitude that day. A good while into her pregnancy and not coping with the summer heat well, she was on a short fuse right up until the ceremony. But we didn’t talk about that. We glossed over it and lingered over the happy memories instead.
I thought we were all going to get a break after that. Not so much. We were still reeling from the rapid unfolding of Merry’s pregnancy and their wedding, and were planning for the baby’s arrival, when Kelly came along. Or, technically, came back. But that was a long story. What mattered was she brought along with her a heart she stole years before… and happened to belong to my brother Darren. Not to mention the baby girl who looked just like him. Now we were wrapped up in planning their wedding. It meant the whole family was in a mild state of overextended panic all the time.
That meant I was doing even more damage control than normal. Working at the compound was mostly about loyalty and family ties rather than it being my great passion. On paper my title was CEO, but really, I was a glorified assistant. I did everything that needed doing when everyone else dropped their balls.
To their credit, that didn’t happen all that often. Usually everyone was really good at their jobs. They were devoted to the racing team and committed to doing everything to the best of their ability.
Right now, things were a bit different. They were still working hard but throwing in the wedding planning and baby preparations and everything was kind of going to hell. Every day I felt like I was chasing around behind them catching mistakes, fixing issues, and picking up the slack. And every day, I reminded myself this was the path I chose.
In all reality, I loved my job. Even when it was crazy like this. Working for Freeman Racing wasn’t my only career. I also owned several restaurants and a couple of smaller businesses throughout Charlotte. Instead, I worked the family business out of love for the tradition. This was my father’s dream, and he’d put everything of himself into it when he was younger. From very early in my parents’ marriage, they worked together to build this for themselves and for their future children.
Even when they couldn’t imagine that they would raise four boys, they’d worked hard to create this company and make it into a legacy they could leave us. My brothers and I had grown up around it. We’d spent our childhoods playing in the huge open spaces and watching the mechanics work on the bikes. It was important to all of us, especially to Quentin. Nick was the only one of the four of us who decided not to work on the compound as an adult. But even without an official job with the company, he still ended up a part of most activities and events.
I loved that about the company. I loved everything my parents built and what only became bigger, more impressive, and more successful over the last several years under Quentin’s watch. That was why even with the success of all my other businesses, I kept up with my work with the racing company as well. But if I had to listen to Darren get cranky over catering or Quentin debating the merits of an all-girls baby shower before the baby came or a family shower after, I was going to have to kill my brothers. Or maybe just fire them.
Which might be challenging considering Quentin was technically my superior. I couldn’t exactly just fire him.
“She says she’s afraid of going into labor right in the middle of the party,” Quentin said.
I rolled my eyes as I walked into the kitchen. Maybe I would have to figure out how to fire him. At least temporarily. Just to make a statement.
“That would be so exciting!” Kelly said.
My eyes rolled their way over to her. The mechanic was leaned against the counter, her chin propped in one hand as the other plucked a spinach-and-cheese croissant from the plate my mother set a few inches away.
“It would be such a celebration,” my mother agreed. “And convenient. All of us would already know what was going on so we could all go to the hospital together. No one would miss out.”
“I think she’s more concerned that her water would break in the middle of the living room and she would be humiliated by ruining your carpet,” Quentin said.
Mom swept her hand through the air like she was brushing the statement away and gave a dismissive look. “So, we hold it outside. Not a problem. I’m sure Willa won’t mind Merry borrowing her pool.”
Kelly nodded in agreement. Quentin stopped mid-bite into his own croissant and stared at our mother. I couldn’t help but laugh. They all looked over at me.
“Vince, when did you get here?” Darren asked.
“A couple of seconds ago,” I said. “But don’t worry. I’m used to being overlooked at this point.”
Dad shot me a look. “Now, son. Don’t you think you’re a bit too old to be envious of your brothers getting attention?”
“I’m not envious of them getting attention. At this particular moment, I’m trying to work through the image of Merry’s water breaking in the middle of the yard and you trying to slide the baby pool under her. But now that we’re talking about it, it would be really nice if we could all focus on work a little more,” I said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” my mother asked. “We’re all working.”
“What were the last four phone calls you made?” I asked.
She looked sheepish. “A caterer, a florist, and two rental companies.”
“Exactly,” I said, snatching one of the croissants off the plate.
She shouldn’t even bother hiring a caterer. Mom was an amazing cook and baker. It also happened to be her form of stress relief and emotional coping mechanism. Whenever she got anxious, stressed, or was overwhelmed thinking about something, she found solace in making food. It was a great benefit to the rest of us. And with how wound up she had been since the rush of babies and weddings started, she could probably feed an army.
“One of these days maybe you’ll find someone, and you’ll understand,” Kelly said.
I bit my tongue. As easy as Merry was with her wedding, Kelly was difficult. I wouldn’t go so far as to say she was a bridezilla. She hadn’t lashed out at any of us, and by all rights her expectations weren’t outlandish. But these wedding preparations were far more complicated. Not only did she and Darren want a full-on wedding experience, complete with ceremony and large reception, but we were also navigating her family from Canada. They wanted to be involved, but the distance made it more challenging.
I was
looking forward to the whole thing being over so everything could go back to normal.
There was a lot I wanted to say to Kelly in that moment. But I didn’t let myself. She didn’t need my attitude. All of them putting planning the wedding in front of doing their jobs aside, how I felt wasn’t just about that. The built-up tension and on-edge feeling weren’t all their fault. I was still thinking about Lindsey and what I saw Friday night.
“There’s a lot of work to be done. I found several issues in the work reports submitted last week, and I have some questions about the orders submitted for the custom bikes. We need to get on this and fix everything so it doesn’t snowball,” I said.
They all nodded, and I grabbed another croissant for the road before heading back to my office. The rest of the day was a constant flow of work. I barely had time to breathe as I bounced from issue to issue and tried to resolve all the problems I found. Fortunately, our talk in the kitchen seemed to have gotten through to the family, at least for the day. They worked hard and we made a lot of progress, but it left me drained.
By the time I left the compound that night, I was so tired I didn’t even want to think about going home and cooking dinner. There was always the option of going by one of the restaurants I owned and grabbing something to bring home, but none of them appealed to me. Instead, I knew where I was going without any conscious thought.
My car seemed to pull itself into the same parking spot I was in on Friday, and I dragged myself through the door. It wasn’t as busy inside the bar that evening as it was the other night. A handful of people were scattered around the tables, some with food and others just with drinks.
I went to the bar and sat on one of the stools. Lindsey moved around behind it at her usual pace. She could do the work of at least two people. Sometimes more. When she glanced over at me, I noticed she looked happier than she had on Friday. But she still wasn’t her normal, bubbly self.
“Hey, there,” she said after giving one of the four other people at the bar his drink and coming over to me. “Is Nick with you?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Not tonight. I haven’t heard from him today.”
She nodded, her lips turning down as she glanced away for a second. Her eyes snapped back to me. “So, I’m seeing Vince Freeman here all by himself?”
I let out a short laugh. “You are. I’m here for dinner.”
Lindsey looked around with a confused look on her face. “Here?”
“It’s here or eating a bowl of cereal leaning against my kitchen sink,” I said.
“Well, we can’t have that. I’ll grab you a burger.”
I dove into the massive cheeseburger and basket of fries, trying to make her smile.
4
Lindsey
There were many things I loved about owning the bar and getting to work at it every day. One of them was the late hours. Unlike other restaurants or stores that required somebody to open them up early in the morning, the bar stayed shuttered until the middle of the afternoon. We started serving dinner in the evening before people started coming in to do their socializing and drinking. But that meant I had my mornings free.
Since that also meant I stayed at the bar until the wee hours of the morning many days, most days of the week my mornings were spent asleep. It was uncommon for me to be up before double digits. But that wasn’t the case on Thursdays. That was because Thursdays were the weekday Grant finally relented to allow me to spend some time with Remy. This was one of the compromises we had to both accept on that tense, unpleasant phone conversation. As much as I resisted going over to his house and visiting with my son on his terms, I eventually had to give in. If I ground in my heels and absolutely refused to go along with it, it would mean missing out on an opportunity to spend time with my little boy.
Instead, I insisted on private time with him on Saturdays in exchange for agreeing to have our Thursdays at Grant’s house. Being able to run up there and be with him brought a bright spot to my week. It was indescribably difficult to have to be away from him all the time. I woke up missing him and didn’t stop until I went to bed at night. The days when I got to see him were easier, but the pain was still there.
I hated the situation we were in. I loved my son more than I could explain and felt an incredible amount of guilt that I let Grant’s family railroad me for his care. Nick told me feeling that way was unreasonable. I couldn’t beat myself up for making a decision I was forced to agree was the best one for my little boy. At the time, I had no idea what the arrangement would actually mean for my relationship with him. I believed giving in and allowing the more financially stable parent take over his primary care was in his best interests. Besides, with Grant he would have access to two grandparents. Regardless of how I felt about Grant’s parents, they cared about Remy. And a child could never have too much love.
Especially a child who dealt with a disability the way Remy did. I would absolutely admit it was a shock when my son was born blind. I went through all the blood tests. I had ultrasounds to check on his growth and progress. I did everything, and that was never an indication of anything abnormal. It put my mind at ease.
Until the day he was born. Remy was the most beautiful baby boy I have ever seen. He came out stretching and screaming just the way a newborn was supposed to. But within those first few seconds of his life, I could see on the doctor’s face that something wasn’t right. Her expression faltered. It wasn’t anything extreme. She didn’t overreact and start shouting. She didn’t bundle him up and run out of the room. It was just a change in the look in her eyes and the smile on her lips.
She brought him over to be checked but didn’t immediately announce the details I expected. I wanted her to shout out his weight and length. I wanted her to say he looked great and bring him over into my arms. Instead, there was an agonizing wait before she settled him into my arms and gave me the news I could never have expected. News that never would have entered my mind as something that might happen.
She believed Remy was blind.
It took some time to get absolute confirmation, but from that first day, I had to rethink what it was going to be to raise my son. He would never see my face or my smile. He would never see the sky or a rainbow. He wouldn’t know the endless hues of colors or the ocean. How would he connect with me? How would he know me? How would he interact with the world? How would I keep him safe?
It was so much, so overwhelming. A thousand questions and moments of fear and uncertainty rushed through me. Much of it was irrational. All of it came from ignorance and not being prepared. Now it was just a part of who my son was. I learned quickly that just because he couldn’t see didn’t mean he couldn’t engage with the world or with me. We bonded through touch, sound, and smell.
I wouldn’t say it was always easy for me. There were definitely moments when I wished he could see. But I never said that out loud. It was something I never wanted him to hear. Remy was a sweet, energetic, and affectionate boy. He never complained about being blind or made any indication that it was something that bothered him. He was so little, but I still admired him for that positivity and resilience. I thought he was so strong and inspiring.
That made the pain even worse when I thought about Grant and his parents having custody of him. They got to see so much more of him growing up. They were there for him when he woke up in the morning and when he went to bed at night. They were the ones who made his meals and introduced him to new foods. They played with him and read to him. When he wanted a hug or a cuddle, it was one of them who gave it to him. Unless it was one of our short times together, everything he needed came from them. I never thought it would be this way.
I thought them taking over his care was about convenience. When I first took over the bar again, it took some time for the money to be good. There were a lot of changes that needed to be made after my father died, and it all cost so much. I wanted to make the bar the best it could be, which meant modernization of the kitchen, improved sound equipment, modifications
of the bathrooms, and more. I had to put so much into making it what I knew it could be I didn’t bring home as much as Grant.
Not to mention the sheer logistics of caring for him. With three adults available, it was far easier to coordinate constant care for Remy. I thought it would be easier to make sure he got everything he needed. In my mind, I would see him all the time, and Grant and I would co-parent just as we planned from the very beginning.
But it never worked out that way. Immediately, Grant and his parents went back on the agreement. Their cruel, vicious attacks began, and my time with my son dwindled down to almost nothing. But there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t fight back. The bar was making good money now, but nothing compared to Grant’s family. I couldn’t afford the type of lawyer who would be able to stand up against them. Right now, my only option was to take pleasure in the time I had with him. Then do all my crying in my car as I left so he would never hear it and Grant would never know.
I was still wiping tears from my cheeks that afternoon when I got to the bar. Valerie, one of my waitresses, was just opening up for the day. She gave me a grin over her shoulder and stepped back so I could go inside first. I trusted everyone who worked for me. When I came in after my father died, the one thing about the bar that I knew I wouldn’t change at all was the staff. Everybody who worked there worked for my dad when he was alive. I knew they had my back, and I could trust them to take care of the bar with as much love and consideration as I would.
Not only was that good because I knew they would open up if I couldn’t be there on time, but it gave me flexibility. Having employees at the front of the bar getting set up for dinner service when we first arrived meant I could go back into my office to do administrative work. It was my habit to spend my first hour of the workday in the office going through reports, putting together orders, and reviewing receipts.
The Freeman Brothers: A Secret Baby Romance Collection Page 45
