Enchant Me

by J. Kenner

  He brought the drinks over, and put one in front of Damien before taking a seat in the chair facing the sofa.

  “I know you won’t believe me, but I didn’t kill him. He fell off the roof. But I do take responsibility for not saving him. I think I could have. I didn’t even try.” He lifted his eyes and looked at Ashton. “I don’t regret that. The man was vile.”

  Ashton’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t ask what Damien meant. It didn’t matter. Damien was certain that Ashton had heard all about the abuse.

  “So who else knows that I’m your father?”

  Ashton lifted a shoulder. “As far as I know, no one. Well, no one before yesterday. Now I guess the whole world knows. News about Damien Stark does tend to spread.”

  “Why no one? Why was it kept a secret?”

  Ashton sipped his drink and seemed to genuinely consider the question. “Honestly, I don’t know. It just was. I think my mother may have been scared of you, after what you did to her brother. Maybe she was afraid you’d find me and take me away.”

  “In the beginning, that was hardly going to happen. I was a child, too.”

  “But you’re not a child now, are you?”

  “We both got the raw end of the deal, Ashton,” Damien said. “And your grandfather was the reason for it.”

  Ashton studied him, but didn’t say anything. Damien waited for a moment, then finally said, “After so many years of not seeking me out, what finally made you do it?”

  “I thought we’d been over that. It wasn’t the damn trust. I didn’t even know about that. And I don’t want any part of it. I’ll sign whatever papers you want. That’s why you’re here, right? To make sure I don’t get any of your precious money?”

  “No. It’s yours if you want it. You’re entitled. I’m not disputing paternity. I’ve seen the evidence on paper, and I see it in your face, too. There’s no question that you’re my son.”

  Ashton had a decent poker face, but Damien was certain he’d surprised the man.

  “I believe you that it’s not about the trust,” Damien continued. “But if that’s not why you suddenly popped into my life, then why did you?”

  “Maybe I finally have a way to get back at you. Maybe I’ve spent my life hating you, Stark, and maybe now I have the power to do something about that.” He smiled, then shrugged. “Or maybe I just wanted to get to know Daddy.”

  Those words—said by a man who was his son—twisted in Damien more than they should have. He didn’t even know this guy. He didn’t know how he was raised or what kind of demons were taunting him.

  Ashton Stone was a mystery, and letting him into the family could be dangerous. Dangerous in ways that were different from the way Jeremiah Stark and Elizabeth Fairchild had fucked with them over the years.

  But at the same time, this man was his son. Perhaps nothing would ever come of that. Perhaps they’d never have any sort of relationship, much less a good one. But until he knew for certain, Damien had to try.

  “You may be right,” Damien said slowly. “You may have a product that will truly take off. The cornerstone of your own growing empire. Maybe one day, you’ll dwarf Stark International. You have a good product with impressive potential. You know I believe that. And I haven’t made a secret about the fact that I’d like to be part of that. But I understand why you don’t want to let me in.”

  Damien took a sip, then leaned back. “So who else knew about me back when you were a child?”

  Ashton shook his head. “No one, as far as I know.”

  “What about Dr. Beauchene?”

  Ashton seemed to consider the question. “You mean the doctor who worked with the team?”

  “Yes.” It was a long shot, but Alaine’s parents had taken care of Sofia after Richter died, so perhaps Richter and the doctor had been close friends.

  “As far as I know he didn’t know anything. Why?”

  Damien ignored the question. “What about Jeremiah?”

  Ashton leaned back in his chair, then took his own sip of bourbon. “You mean Jeremiah Stark? Your father?”

  “Yes. Did he know Sofia had a baby?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Damien watched Ashton’s face, but it was completely unreadable. He wondered if it was true.

  He had no specific reason to believe that Ashton knew about Jeremiah. But he definitely suspected that Jeremiah knew about Ashton. Back then, Jeremiah knew everything that was going on, including what Richter had done with and to Damien and Sofia. So was it really that long of a stretch to believe that he also knew about Sofia’s child?

  It wasn’t.

  “Did Jeremiah tell you that I knew about you? That I stayed away on purpose?”

  “I never even met the man.”

  Again, his face was unreadable, without any of the usual tells that he might be lying or holding back.

  “All right,” Damien finally said. “But Jeremiah Stark has a way of popping up when you don’t want him to. Now that you’ve announced to the world that you’re my son, I imagine he’ll be popping into your life. So let me tell you a few things about him. For that matter, let me tell you a few things about your mother. About Sofia, I mean. She was a sweet girl. Kind and loving. And also brilliant. I see a lot of you in her.”

  “I heard she was nuts,” Ashton said, his voice flat. “That she tried to kill your wife.”

  “That’s true. She was messed up. She had reason to be. But to be honest, she also liked Nikki. In the end, she saved her. She was jealous, though. And as for Nikki, she understands what happened to Sofia. What happened to both of us.”

  “You mean the abuse,” Ashton said. “I read all about it in the news. My mother said it was bullshit.”

  “I assure you, it wasn’t. You’ve seen the pictures. I can’t believe you didn’t watch the news when I went public.”

  Ashton stood and walked to the window, looking out as he spoke. “The pictures were blurred. All we have is your word saying that my grandfather was vile. And it was in the context of that murder trial, right? The court got a hold of that evidence and dropped the charges? Wonder how easy it would be to Photoshop something like that. You were that close to life in prison,” he adds, holding his thumb and forefinger millimeters apart. “Makes the timing seem pretty damn convenient.”

  “Perhaps it does to an outsider. Let me bring you inside the circle.” He opened his phone to show the worst video of all. The one the court hadn’t received, or at least the one that no one had ever given Damien. The one where his face and Sofia’s face weren’t blurred out, and there was no mistaking what they were doing.

  He passed it to Ashton. “That’s me,” he said unnecessarily. “And that’s your mother.”

  He studied Ashton’s face as he watched the video. The disgust, the horror, and even the sadness. When he handed back the phone, he looked a little ill.

  “Your grandfather forced us to do that. For years he forced us to do … things. It broke your mother.”

  Ashton turned away, not meeting his eyes. “I thought you were going to tell me about my other grandfather. Your dad.”

  “There’s not much to tell, except that he’s a shark. He’s a worm. He spent most of my adult life backstabbing me. When I was a child, he knew about the abuse, what Richter did. He knew all of it. He considered it the cost of doing business. The price that I was paying to be a tennis star. It’s not a price I was willing to pay, but I was a child. I wasn’t given a choice. And believe me when I say I never knew that Sofia got pregnant, much less that she actually gave birth.”

  When Ashton looked at him now, he seemed a shade paler. “You’re saying that my grandfather was a monster. Hell, you’re saying both my grandfathers were monsters.”

  Damien heard the anger and confusion, and he kept his own voice level when he said, “Family can be the best. But it can also be the worst. And yes. My father and Merle Richter were bad men. You say you didn’t know Jeremiah, and I believe you. But be careful. Because like I said, he m
ay come knocking at your door. And a smart man doesn’t let a snake into his bedroom.”

  He put the glass down and stood up. “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”

  “That’s it?” Ashton said. “I don’t get any big speech about retracting what I said at the renewal? About being a good boy and playing nice?”

  “I hope you stop with the text messages—”

  “I swear, I’m not sending those. I don’t know who is.”

  “All right,” Damien said, not sure if he believed him or not. “As for what you said at the ceremony, of course I don’t expect you to retract it. I am your father, Ashton. As for your statement that I’ve known about you, I’ve already denied that. People can think what they will. And as for you and me? Well, I guess we just have to move forward one step at a time.”

  He crossed to the door, opened it, then stepped over the threshold. When he turned back, Ashton was right behind him in the doorway. “I genuinely like and respect you. I’m sorry you don’t feel the same, but I do understand the reason. You were fed a lifetime of lies. Some day, I hope you realize that.”

  Ashton said nothing, but Damien thought that maybe, just maybe, he saw a hint of respect in his son’s eyes before Ashton closed the door firmly in his face.

  17

  I wake up with a cat on my pillow, a toddler’s foot in my face, and two little girls snuggled against me. I move slowly, trying to extract myself without waking them, and realize that Damien’s no longer in the bed.

  I smile, remembering last night. It had been the first relatively normal hours we’d had in a while. We’d all climbed into bed with a big bowl of popcorn and another of candy, then we’d watched Frozen for the billionth time, with Lara singing along at the top of her lungs.

  The bathroom door opens, and Damien steps out, a towel around his waist. He smiles at me, and I see that the stress that had been building on his face has finally faded, and that simple knowledge makes my heart fill with happiness.

  “I think you’re trapped,” he says. “You move, and you’ll rouse the beasts.”

  “I know,” I whisper, as Sunshine, the cat, gets up, turns in a circle, and resettles herself, her purr reverberating against my head.

  “Shall I serve breakfast in bed?”

  I laugh. “No. I know these guys well enough.” I glance at the clock, and see that it’s already past eight. “I’m surprised they’re not up already.”

  “Late night movie night.” He comes and sits on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching for mine. “Last night was fun,” he says. But what I hear is, “I love you.”

  “It was,” I say, my reply telling him that I love him, too. That I love our family. That as far as I’m concerned, even in the midst of all this drama and confusion, I wouldn’t change a thing about our lives because that might change the good parts, too.

  There’s a tap at the door, and Damien moves back towards the bathroom. As soon as he’s slipped inside, I call out, “Come in.”

  Bree bursts inside as Damien returns, now in sweats and a tee. She looks between the two of us, then notes the kids, and I see her visibly take her excitement down a notch, as if she’s afraid that whatever joyous thing has happened is going to wake them.

  “Jane loved the book,” she says in a stage whisper.

  Beside me, Lara stirs. Bree’s eyes widen, and I laugh. “It’s okay. They’re going to wake up soon anyway.”

  As if to illustrate the point, I push back and sit up straighter, disturbing the cat, who lifts her tail and jumps off the bed. Lara rolls over, and Bradley’s leg shoots out, making contact with the pillow, right where my face was only moments before. I smile at Bree. “Tell me the rest.”

  “Jane’s sending it to her agent.” Bree bounces, practically radioactive with excitement. “She warned me that he mostly does nonfiction stuff, but that he’ll read it, and if he thinks it’s marketable he’ll either send it to someone else in his group or recommend it to a friend. At any rate, at least something’s happening. Thank you,” she says looking from me to Damien. “Thank you both.”

  “We didn’t do anything.” Damien says. “The one you should be thanking is Jane.”

  “I think if I thank her any more, she’ll issue a temporary restraining order. And you did so do something. You’re the one who recommended it to her. And I really do appreciate it.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Damien says. “You have to keep us posted.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Are you kidding? You two are going to be sick of me by the time this is either accepted or rejected.” She nods at the kids. “Want me to get them up and ready? I know the magic word to get them out of bed.”

  “Good point,” I say. “So do I.” We share a smile, then in unison say, “Choca-pipcakes?”

  Better than any alarm clock, the word alone sends Anne sitting bolt upright. “Really?” She claps her hands. “Really, Mama, can we? Can we please?”

  I nod at Bree. “If Ms. Bree wants to make them, you can have them.”

  Anne scrambles out of bed and stands in front of Bree in her nightgown. “I can help.”

  “I know you can,” Bree says. She extends her hand. “Come on. If your sister and brother don’t hurry up, you’ll get to pick the best ones.”

  “No fair,” Lara says, and scrambles to follow. I kiss Bradley on the head. “Staying with Mommy? Or going with Ms. Bree?”

  He looks between the two of us, his thumb going to his mouth. Then he says “Pipcakes,” and slides off the bed as well. I catch Damien’s eye, and we share a smile.

  Bree’s already led the herd out when Damien’s phone rings. He answers, and I see his expression shift.

  “Hang on,” he says to the caller, “I want Nikki to hear this, too.” He looks at me as he puts the phone on speaker “It’s about Ashton Stone. Can you repeat what you just told me?”

  “I have more information on the poaching.” I recognize Preston Rhodes’ voice. “Apparently, Stone’s approaching our employees systematically. I’ve personally heard from over a dozen so far, and we can assume that there are others.”

  “What is his offer?” Damien says. “And how many have we lost so far? Do you know?”

  “I don’t have solid numbers. But I do know that he’s offering double what we pay. And you know how well we pay.”

  I gape, and see the shock on Damien’s face, too. “But that’s not sustainable,” I say. “And how does he have the capital to pay that much, anyway?”

  “I agree. It’s not sustainable,” Preston says. “His start-up is barely funded, and all the money is going into R and D. But the offers are confirmed. So I have to assume he’s found an investor or partner.”

  “Keep me posted,” Damien says, then ends the call.

  I’ve been checking my phone during this conversation, and I freeze as a live social media feed pops up in response to a search I’d set last night for Ashton’s name.

  I grab the remote to turn on the television, then mirror my phone so Damien can see, too. “Look,” I say, as Ashton stands in front of a group of reporters. “He’s giving some sort of press conference.”

  “—a brilliant entrepreneur,” Ashton says on screen, “but he’s self-serving. Moreover, Stark’s famous for his temper and he’s a cutthroat in business. I find it very telling that he’s made multiple attempts to license my technology, including coming to me last night to try to convince me that he never knew about our relationship, when all he really wanted was his endgame.”

  I glance at Damien, expecting to see fury on his face. What I see is disappointment. Not about the tech, but about Ashton.

  “He wants to license my energy system,” Ashton continues. “I know it intrigues him. And I know that I could probably take the product far by partnering with Stark Applied Technology. But I don’t want to do business with a man like Damien Stark.”

  He pauses, as if for effect. “I’m happy to announce that I’ve found financing to take Stone Enterprises to the next level. We’ll be f
inalizing the deal soon, and we’ll announce the partnership and our plan for developing and rolling out the product at that time. Thank you. There’ll be no questions.”

  He turns and walks away, ignoring the reporters who are shouting questions at him. I lean back against the headboard, thinking what a horrible tragedy it is that Ashton Stone has no idea how good a man Damien is.

  Damien comes and sits on the bed beside me, and I can almost taste the sadness.

  “I thought we’d moved the needle last night,” he says. “I guess I was wrong.”

  I nod, mute.

  “He doesn’t just want to hurt me,” Damien says. “He wants to hurt my business and reputation. And he thinks I won’t fight back because he’s my son.”

  I take his hand and squeeze. “He’s right, isn’t he?” I say softly.

  Damien closes his eyes. “Dammit, yes, he is.”

  Damien stands up and begins pacing at the foot of the bed.

  “Who’s financing him?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. I texted Charles during that dog-and-pony show asking the very same question. His people are looking into it.” His phone pings, and Damien raises an eyebrow. “And that’s why I pay them that ridiculous hourly rate.”

  He opens the text, and from the way his expression shifts, I know it’s more bad news. “Carl Rosenfeld,” he says, making my stomach turn. “The attorneys are negotiating the final terms right now. Charles says he guesses they’ll have the deal papers signed within the week.”

  I shudder. “He has no idea what he’s walking away from,” I say. “And into. Rosenfeld is a snake.”

  Damien knows exactly how I feel about Carl Rosenfeld. He may be a brilliant entrepreneur, but he’s unethical as shit. He was my first boss in Los Angeles, and I learned that one the hard way. Most of all, he resents the hell out of Damien, who declined to work with him on what Carl considered a make-or-break deal.

  Every once in a while, Carl manages to do the right thing, but it’s rare, and probably accidental. On top of that, a system for capturing and storing atmospheric energy is not within his regular field of expertise, so the fact that he’s involved at all seems incredibly odd to me.