by Lee, Nadia
Still, I do my best to put Bradley at ease. After all, he hasn’t done anything wrong…yet. And I’m good at hiding how I really feel when necessary.
Bradley is a pleasant conversationalist, and he tells Evie stories of how he and Mari met, fell in love and so on. I don’t believe much of it. If he loved her so much, he would’ve stayed. He would’ve made it work even if he was embarrassed to go back to her because his business failed and had nothing to show for it. He would have found a way to provide for his woman and the child she carried. He acts like he’s sorry he never went back to Dillington, swears he would’ve gone back if he’d known about Evie. But he doesn’t seem to realize the problem was always him leaving. If he’d stayed, he would’ve known about her.
I’ve seen Mari, the signs of the hard life she led in the lines on her face, the calluses on her hands. Even if she doesn’t seem too crazy about me being with her daughter, I respect her for having done all that she could for Evie. She really deserved better than Bradley.
“So what do you plan on doing now? Stay in L.A. for a while, or…?” I ask over our main course of steak and lobster tail, keeping my tone friendly.
“Uh. Yeah. I’d like to get to know Evie. Maybe go visit Mari together, you know?” he says a bit sheepishly.
“Have you spoken with her recently?” I ask.
“Not yet.”
I nod, but I’m thinking, Why the hell not? Does he have something to hide? Maybe he doesn’t want Mari to know?
He adds, “I don’t have her number anymore.”
“I do. I’ll text and let her know you’re in L.A.,” Evie says, pulling her phone out.
Bradley’s expression tightens for a moment. I catch it, but Evie, busy with her phone, doesn’t.
“And why don’t I give you her number so you can call her tonight?” she asks.
His eyes brighten. “I’d love that.”
He seems sincere when he speaks, but why do I have a feeling he’s not going to do any of that? And unless I’m mistaken, he doesn’t want Evie contacting Mari either.
“Where are you staying?” Evie asks, texting quickly.
“At a motel for now. I’m looking for a small apartment.”
Concern crosses her face as she lifts her gaze from her phone. Time to step in before she does something she shouldn’t—like invite this man into our home.
“Why don’t I put you up at the Aylster?” I say. “It should be more comfortable, and you’ll be closer to our place.” That part isn’t necessary an advantage, but it’s for Evie’s benefit.
Bradley laughs, waving his hand like I’m just too much. “I can’t. And you don’t have to. You don’t even know me.”
“Ah, we’ll get to know each other as the time goes on. But I just can’t have you staying at some motel. Really, you’re practically family.” God, I’m laying it on thick. He better not insist I call him Pops or something.
“Listen to Nate, Dad. He’s right. We’d normally offer you a room at home, but…” She clears her throat. “It’s a little complicated.”
It is? I didn’t know that, but I’m glad she thinks there are enough complications not to invite Bradley to stay with us.
Evie calls the Aylster. It’s just pro forma, though. Of course the hotel always has a suite for a guest of the Sterlings. Of course they’ll be more than happy to make his stay comfortable.
And now that she has her phone out, she exchanges phone numbers with her dad. Although I don’t want him having her number, there’s no socially acceptable way to prevent it. I don’t bother giving him mine, since I don’t want him to have direct access to my personal mobile. Mari earned my respect or trust when she came to visit; this guy hasn’t. Evie taps a few more things on her phone, then puts it away.
After dinner, Bradley says he’s tired from the excitement of the day.
“Of course,” I say. “Besides, you have to pack your things to move.” Let’s not linger, because I’ve hit my acting limit for the day.
“I know, right?” He laughs heartily. “Thank you for that.”
“My pleasure. Anything for Evie’s dad.”
Something sparks in his eyes. It’s so quick, I wonder for a moment if I imagined it.
Bradley’s expression returns to a mix of mild shyness and joy. “Anyway, I should get going. Get some sleep and have a good evening, Evie.” He nods at me. “Nate.”
We leave the restaurant together. He whistles, then waves at Evie before getting into his car. The tension that’s been gripping me since I laid my eyes on him loosens a bit, but I know this is just the beginning.
* * *
Evie
When we’re walking into home from the garage, my phone rings. It’s Mom. I smile, my heart swelling with joy. Bet she wants to know all about Dad’s visit!
“Hey, sweetie,” Mom says.
Nate looks at me inquiringly, and I mouth, Mom. He nods and goes upstairs. I stay below, taking a seat on the couch facing Barron’s X-rated art and toe off my shoes. It’s good thing Nate offered to put Dad up at the hotel, because I’m not sure how I’d explain the statue.
“So what’s going on? You said to call as soon as possible,” she says.
I suppress a laugh, trying not to give away the big news. I was going to text her Dad was here, but decided not to, wanting to share the moment when I tell her. “You’re not going to believe this, but I actually have something fabulous to tell you. Dad’s here!”
I wait for Mom to say something. She doesn’t. In fact, the line is so quiet that I wonder if we got disconnected.
Maybe she’s too overcome to speak. I mean, I could barely process it when I saw him, and he’s not even someone from my memory. Mom actually knew him, and they spent a lot of time together. She still loves him and misses him.
“Mom?” I say. “Are you there?”
A soft clearing of her throat. “Yes, baby. I’m here. I’m just…shocked. I never thought he’d return to our lives.”
“I know, right?” I literally can’t sit still. “He saw me in some articles and decided to get in touch. If I’d known the publicity would bring him back, I would’ve done something to attract the paparazzi’s attention a long time ago.”
“But you hate being in the spotlight.”
“Yeah, but it’s Dad! I’ve always wanted to see him. This is a dream come true.” I’ve always wanted to have a dad, and now I do. Unlike some terrible dads, mine loves and wants the best for me. He only stayed away all these years because he thought he wasn’t good enough for me and Mom. That resonates in an odd way, because I’ve felt like an imposter too.
“Oh. Well, I’m very happy for you, hon.”
“I wish you were here,” I say wistfully. “Then we could be a complete family.”
“So do I.” Her words are full of feeling. “How is he? Is he doing well?”
“I think he just moved here. He’s been staying at a motel, but Nate moved him to the Aylster. Nate couldn’t have been more polite or nice to him, and Dad was really sweet, too.”
“I wish I could be there with you and your dad, baby, but Betty needs me.”
The reminder puts a damper on my excitement. Of course. How selfish am I not to remember Betty? “How is she doing?”
“She’s hanging in there. A fighter.”
“You know, if she needs anything—anything at all—Nate can probably make it happen.”
There’s a pause. “I’d…rather not.”
“Don’t say that. He’d never turn his back on someone who genuinely needed help,” I say, wanting Mom to understand she can trust Nate the way I do. “Normally I wouldn’t ask, but this is something his family’s foundation does. He’ll be happy to help. He’s all about making a difference, one sick person at a time.”
“Thank you, Evie. And tell Nate I said thanks. Oh my goodness, my break’s almost over. I need to get back to my floors.”
I sigh. Her janitorial shift is in the evening. I hate it that she works so late at night when she
’s a morning person. But I also know that if I offer to help her financially so she doesn’t have to work at night, she’ll absolutely be insulted.
“We’ll chat more,” she says.
“We will.” I snap my fingers as an idea occurs to me. “You know what? I’m going to see if he and I can visit Dillington to see you. I know you miss him.” It’s going to be awesome for them reunite, especially after all these years. Seeing Mom wearing the ring he gave her is going to let him know he is still loved, and always part of our family, no matter what.
“That’ll be lovely, but don’t put yourself out to do it. Remember, you’re pregnant, so you should take it easy and rest instead of worrying about me. Just let Nate deal with it if anything unpleasant happens.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Nate
I change out of my work clothes, while Evie’s downstairs talking with Mari. I put on my favorite boxers and a white T-shirt and am walking out of the closet when my phone buzzes. I lunge for it, praying it’s Pattington with some news, even though it’s still too early for him to have dug up something on Bradley.
You shooting blanks?
I stare at the text from Court. What the hell is this about?
The only thing blank is your mind, I reply, then sit on the bed, my legs stretched out. Court needs to check who he’s texting first. I don’t need to know about his friends’ issues. Or maybe he meant to text his brother Edgar.
A few seconds later, I get a call from Court. “You didn’t see the article?”
“What article?” There’s so much crap written about me that if I tried to keep up with all of it, I’d never have time to sleep, much less take care of the medical centers.
“It says you’re shooting blanks and Evie’s kid isn’t yours. Oh, and the marriage isn’t real because you weren’t supposed to marry her.” Court pauses for a moment. “There’s also some stuff about her. Greedy, gold digger… You know, the usual.”
My jaw muscles clench. Murderous rage pours through me as I sit up straight. “Who wrote this shit?”
“Tom Brockman.”
That asshole. Nothing’s sacred for that bottom feeder in his quest for clicks. Every piece of dumb gossip and speculation he hears about turns into an article. He went after Court’s family earlier, then attempted to ruin Court’s fiancée’s as well.
“Should’ve run him over when I had the chance,” Court mutters.
“You think a lot of people saw it?” I ask, praying the article’s buried under something juicier.
“I don’t know. It got published this afternoon, and it’s trending now.”
Fuck.
“Lots of comments. All bullshit. Don’t even bother looking.”
“I gotta go,” I say, hanging up because now I have to see the comments.
The online trolls are out in droves. Many mock me, calling me impotent, among other things. I don’t care about that, though. I’ve been judged and attacked before because of my family’s position and wealth. Normally I just laugh it off.
But this time they’re dragging Evie into it, and she isn’t used to this. She won’t understand. I remember how uncomfortable she was with all the reporters and photographers after the auction…how much she didn’t like the idea of public exposure when we had to go to Vegas together for our date.
“Gold digger” is the kindest term people are throwing at her. It enrages me that the woman I adore—the mother of my child—is under attack because of her association with me. Because vultures like Brockman won’t leave her out of it.
Brockman is going to pay for this. I’ll make the motherfucker bleed. He’s going to wish he never wrote that article. He’ll wish he never learned the goddamn alphabet.
My phone vibrates in my hand. Barron.
“How’s Evie?” His voice is tight, which means he’s read the article. Miles undoubtedly showed it to him.
“As far as I know, she hasn’t seen it yet.” She’s still downstairs, which means she’s still on the phone with her mom. Then it hits me. Has Mari seen it? Shit.
“But she will.” It’s a flat statement. People always notice articles about themselves, unless they’re living in a cave somewhere.
“Most likely.”
“Stress is bad for pregnant women. Ethel almost miscarried once because of it.”
I’ve heard that story, and although I’ve always felt sympathy before, now my emotions veer into fear. I can’t have Evie lose our child because of this. It isn’t just that I want the child—because I do. But the emotional and physical trauma a woman experiences from miscarriage is something that can never fully heal. “I’ll take care of it,” I say firmly.
“The family will respond,” Barron says, quoting the phrase we use to show unity against outsiders. “Evie is one of us, Nate. Nobody hurts one of our own.”
I finally rein in my own emotions and hear the cold rage radiating from Barron.
“They think this article will disgrace Evie or make us turn our backs on her. It will not. If they want to come at us, they can strike at me directly. Everyone involved will pay.”
“Tom Brockman is mine,” I say before Barron decides to drop a nuke on his apartment building.
“Fine, but I can’t promise he won’t feel some collateral damage. Give Evie my love, and tell her she has nothing to worry about. Next time, they’ll think twice before publishing this type of trash.” He hangs up.
I get a text from Justin next. Is Evie okay? The family will respond. This will not go unpunished.
Vanessa. The bastard is going down. Tell Evie to ignore the haters. We have more lawyers than anybody and a war chest big enough to destroy them all.
More texts are pouring in. All showing support, asking after Evie because they know just like I do what this is going to do to her.
I wonder if there’s a way I can prevent Evie from seeing the article. Maybe I can just whisk her away on a long honeymoon to Thailand. Bora Bora is pretty, too. Then I can keep her busy in bed—shouldn’t be too difficult, and a hell of a lot of fun—and Tom Brockman and his article will both be history by the time we return.
Except is she going to want to leave the country when she just reunited with her dad?
Fuck. Talk about timing.
I get another call. Shit. It is Mari. She probably saw the article too and is furious I let this happen to her daughter. I brace myself for an ass-kicking. “Hello,” I say.
“Hello, Nate. This is Mari. If Evie’s in the room with you, would you mind going to another one? I’d rather not she overhear anything I’m about to tell you.”
That bad? Maybe I should get a shield, like Captain America. “She’s still downstairs,” I say.
“Okay.” She sighs heavily. “She called saying that she met her dad.”
“Yeah, she’s very happy.” I don’t tell Mari that I have suspicions about Bradley, because she must obviously still love the man to wear his ring.
“Get rid of him.”
Whoa. “Excuse me? Could you say that again?”
“Bradley Brown is bad news.”
O-kay. “I’m sorry, but didn’t you tell Evie that her dad was a nice guy?” I say slowly, making sure there’s no miscommunication.
“Well, of course. I didn’t want her to know her father is a…piece of crap. He’s a cheating, uncommitted, worthless con man. Mark my words, he’s only there to weasel some money out of her.”
So my instincts were right. But mixed with vindication is annoyance that Mari lied to Evie all this time. If she’d just told Evie the truth from the beginning, Bradley would’ve never been able to approach her. “Why don’t you tell her? It’ll ensure she stays away from him.”
“She doesn’t need to know what kind of man he really is. It isn’t good for her.”
“It isn’t good for her to be taken advantage of out of ignorance. She’s thrilled to be around him because of what you told her,” I point out, stunned at Mari’s non-logic. I thought she was more sensible than this.
“I understand she had a hard life.” And I plan to make up for that and spoil her rotten, now that I know how badly she’s been deprived. “But how is keeping up this lie going to make it better for her?”
“Do you love your father?”
The question pierces my heart like a lance, and an old ache spreads through me. “Of course. He was a great man.”
“Then how would you feel if somebody said he was a terrible person? If some woman showed up and claimed he cheated on your mother and had babies with her? Or if someone said he swindled people out of money? How would that make you feel?”
I shove my fingers through my hair, then clench them until my scalp hurts. The possibility of that happening is nil, but if it did happen… I’d be furious, betrayed…
I don’t even know all the things I’d feel, honestly. Dad was the man I looked up to, the kind of person I wanted—still want—to become. The devastation of that would be too painful to bear.
“Would you be mad enough to shoot the messenger?”
Possibly. Most likely.
Shit.
“You have everything, and she has nothing. Let her have this one thing. You’re a powerful man with a lot of money and rich friends. Make Brad go away. Do it for Evie. I’m counting on you to keep her safe and happy.” She clears her throat. “I need to go back to work. Thank you, Nate.” She ends the call.
Oh fuck. Frustration swirls inside like a tornado, and it’s all I can do to not hurl my phone at the wall. This day started out perfect, with Evie climaxing against my mouth, the doctor’s visit, her moving out of her old place and into mine.
