Sex on the Beach (Southern Comfort Book 2)

by Melanie Shawn

  He pressed the mute button, obviously not wanting to be interrupted while speaking about my father. “Sorry about that. You were saying?”

  I wasn’t. And thankfully, I didn’t have to.

  Cheyenne walked in and his jaw dropped. It wasn’t quite soap opera level histrionics, but it was still satisfyingly dramatic.

  “Mr. Abernathy, I’m sure you know Cheyenne Comfort. She is who will be joining me. We have some questions about paternity.”

  Jennings looked between me and Cheyenne. For a moment, I thought that he was going to make a break for it, but instead, he sighed. “I knew this day might come. Take a seat, young lady.”

  Cheyenne gave me a look, as if to ask what I thought about his reaction. I honestly wasn’t sure.

  “Mr. Abernathy—” Cheyenne began.

  “Please, call me Jennings.”

  “I’m here today because I believe that you might be my biological father.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not.”

  I could’ve been mistaken, but he sounded almost sad about it.

  Cheyenne stiffened beside me. “Well, I’d like to make sure. I’d like you to take a paternity test.”

  “I have. Several.” Jennings stood, took a set of keys out of his pocket, bent down and opened a filing drawer. He pulled out a folder and handed it to Cheyenne.

  “They’re all there. All five of them.”

  I sat quietly, feeling more and more out of place. This honestly didn’t seem like a conversation I needed to be a part of, but I’d promised Cheyenne, so I stayed.

  “When? Why?” she asked as she flipped through the paperwork.

  “I loved your mother, Cheyenne. I loved her so much.”

  Tears welled behind Mr. Abernathy’s glasses and he wiped beneath them.

  “We had a relationship. Now, don’t think poorly of her. She was a free spirit, and your daddy, well, your daddy didn’t always do right by her.”

  “I don’t even know who my daddy is.” Her voice cracked and I could tell that this was hitting her hard. I wish I knew what to say or do. Instead, I just sat there silently.

  “What?” Jennings’ brow furrowed.

  “If you’re not my father and James isn’t my father—”

  “What do you mean, if James isn’t your father? Of course, he’s your father.” His voice boomed.

  “James Comfort is not my father. Before I came to see you, I had my DNA tested against my brothers.”

  “Well then, if it wasn’t James, and it’s not me…”

  “I don’t know.” Cheyenne stood. She almost looked like a trapped animal in a cage. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Abernathy.”

  I rose and followed her to the door. She’d just put her hand on it when she turned and looked back at Jennings, who was still seated in his chair, apparently gobsmacked.

  “Why did you come to see my grandparents, then? If you knew, why did you come to my graduations?”

  He stared off blankly, as if he hadn’t heard her for a moment, but then turned toward her. “You were a piece of Sabrina that was still in this world. I didn’t do right by her when she was alive, but I wanted to do right by her daughter.”

  “What about my brothers? You’ve always been an asshole to them.”

  He just shook his head, not seeming to know the answer himself. “If I had to hazard a guess, it would be because from what I’d seen, all the boys took after their father, and Cheyenne, you were always the spitting image of your mother.”

  As we left the office, I wondered if my father had ever noticed that my eyes were exact duplicates of my mother’s. Or if he’d even care if he had. It was just one more question to add to the growing list that I wanted answered.

  CHAPTER 39

  Jimmy

  My chest felt like there was a ton of bricks sitting on it as I pulled into the parking lot at Southern Comfort. I’d thought that I was bummed the first time Bella said she didn’t want to see me anymore, but that seemed like a walk in the park now.

  She wasn’t answering my calls and she’d only written back short responses to my texts. I’d said that we needed to talk, she’d said that she couldn’t. I’d said that I was sorry that I’d told her the things I had, the way I had, she’d told me it was fine.

  It was fine. Every man in the world knew that when a woman says something is “fine,” it’s not fucking fine.

  I kept running our conversation that morning over and over again in my head. Damn, things had escalated quickly. There were so many things I could’ve said and done differently.

  And hopefully, I would get my chance to make it up to her. I was at the bar for a family meeting that Cheyenne had called, and I was praying that Bella would be there. I assumed this meeting was about what Cheyenne had learned at Abernathy’s office. And since Bella had been with her for that meeting, I hoped she’d be here for this one.

  The midday heat hit me like a slap in the face as I stepped onto the asphalt and shut my truck door.

  “Hey, Jimmy!” A car full of women called out as they drove by.

  It took me a second but then I recognized them as a group of college friends that came to Firefly Island on an annual trip since they’d graduated ten years ago. They had a tradition of chartering the boat for a day of debauchery on the sea each trip.

  Any other year, I’d be happy to see them in town. This year, I was wondering if I could get someone else to take them out on the water. I just couldn’t face an entire day of meaningless flirting. Not in my current mental state.

  Bella broke me. There was no two ways about it. I was different after knowing her. It felt like I hadn’t really been awake to the important stuff and now I was. I wasn’t sure if I could ever go back to the way I’d been pre-Bella, or if I even wanted to.

  Whenever I’d seen men, or women, at the bar nursing a broken heart, I’d just figured it had been an excuse to drink. I didn’t actually think that they were in physical pain. I’d been so arrogant to think that they weren’t really hurting. Or that I was somehow immune to the pain they were experiencing.

  Sure, I’d watched my old man spend years wallowing in the pain and suffering he’d endured after losing my mom. But even that hadn’t prepared me for what true heartbreak felt like.

  I’d broken ten bones in my life, not including the four ribs I cracked when I crashed my ATV playing chicken with Knox. I would take any one of those breaks over a broken heart any day of the week. At least with those, there was a clear path to recovery. With a broken heart, there was no timeline. And it hurt a hell of a lot more, too.

  When I opened the door, I saw that I was the final Comfort to arrive. Billy, Hank, and Cheyenne were all gathered around the bar. Unfortunately, Bella was not. She hadn’t come to this meeting.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Billy remarked sarcastically.

  I would talk shit back but since he’d covered for me while I’d spent the day with Bella, I decided to bite my tongue.

  Before I even made it halfway across the bar Cheyenne was speaking. “I met with Jennings today.”

  “And?” Billy asked.

  “He’s not my father,” Cheyenne stated flatly showing no emotion.

  “He said he wasn’t, and you just believed him?” Billy’s hands fisted and his jaw ticked.

  “No. I didn’t just believe him. He’s had five separate paternity tests done, years apart. He gave me copies. He thought he was my father, but it turned out he wasn’t.”

  “So who is?” I asked, but quickly realized she would have no idea either.

  “I don’t know. Bella is going to look into it. She’s headed home and she’s—”

  “She’s what?” I interrupted.

  Cheyenne’s eyes shot to mine. “She went home.”

  Her words hit me like the time I got nailed in the stomach with a fast ball junior year. It knocked the wind right out of me.

  “I’m sorry…” Cheyenne’s forehead creased. “I just assumed she’d told you.”

  “
She didn’t.” I could feel the pitying stares of my brothers and sister. I didn’t need them feeling sorry for me. I’d seen my brothers look at my father that way and I never wanted anyone to look at me like that. Ever. “It’s fine. We’ve been playing phone tag.” If your definition of tag was me calling and her not answering. “You were saying she’s looking into what?”

  “Oh, right. She’s going to have someone her father uses look into who my father might be. Dominic Charles. He’s at a firm in California but apparently he can find out anything about anyone.”

  “She had to go home to do that?” Billy asked.

  I wasn’t sure if he asked it for my benefit or if he actually wanted to know, but I appreciated it.

  “I’m not sure.” Cheyenne shrugged, looking a little bit sheepish. “She just said that she was leaving and that she’d let me know what she found out in a few days.”

  Billy finished looking through the papers and handed them to Hank. “So if Jennings isn’t your father and neither is Pop, then who the hell is your daddy?” The frustrated exclamation was uttered to the room at large, and was rhetorical. Which made it even more frustrating—it was the one question that was uppermost in all of our minds, and it was also the one none of us could answer.

  I noticed Cheyenne’s lip tremble and I jumped up and pulled her into my arms. I’d been so wrapped up in my drama with Bella I hadn’t stopped to think about what this must be doing to my sis.

  She folded into me. “It doesn’t matter who your sperm donor was, you’re our sister.”

  “You’re a Comfort. Nothing’s going to change that,” Hank declared.

  He didn’t say much, but when he did, it counted.

  I wondered if he had any sound advice he could give me about Bella, ’cause I sure as hell didn’t have any idea what to do about her.

  CHAPTER 40

  Jimmy

  “Ms. Santini.” Ariana, one of my father’s executive assistants, stood when I walked out of the elevator onto his executive floor. She tapped on the tablet that was pretty much attached to her hand at this point. “I don’t have you on the schedule. If you take a seat I’ll check and see if he’s avail—”

  “I’m going to see my father.” I’d never used the “my father” card, but that was mainly because I’d worked for his company and been terrified of him.

  Neither of those things were true anymore since my first stop that day had been to tender my resignation to the COO, and I could care less if my father was angry. So I had no issue using it now. I’d taken the past few days to get my ducks in a row and now that they were, I was ready to fly.

  If I wasn’t mistaken, I saw a glimmer of respect flicker in Ariana’s hazel eyes, as if she approved of me asserting myself. Or maybe it was my new hair color. She’d definitely taken note of that as well.

  And how could she not? It was red. And I loved it. And I loved Jimmy for making the appointment for me, and being so sweet when I spent close to an hour deciding on a color. He had the patience of a saint, and the heart of one, too.

  Ariana’s six-inch, red-bottom Louboutins clicked on the marble floor as she crossed from her desk to the door that led to my father’s office. She pressed her thumb to the security pad and the door clicked open. Stepping inside before me she announced, “Sir, your daughter is here to see you.”

  It was the first time she hadn’t referred to me as Ms. Santini, even when she was speaking to my father…especially when she was speaking to him.

  “Thank you, Ariana.” She closed the door behind her, leaving me alone with my father.

  I’d been concerned that when I was actually face to face with the man I’d lose my nerve, but something had changed in me. Yes, part of it was my diagnosis, but it was more than that. The past week I’d spent in Firefly had changed me. Being with Jimmy had changed me.

  A confidence I hadn’t possessed before meeting Jimmy now filled me. I was a different person and I had Jimmy Comfort to thank for that.

  Instead of waiting to be offered a seat like I would have two weeks ago, I walked to the chair facing my father’s desk and lowered into it.

  My father must have noticed the difference in my behavior because he looked at me. Actually looked at my face and into my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that.

  “Your hair is red.”

  Or maybe it had nothing to do with him noticing my confidence and everything to do with my new look. Internally, I sighed. “Yes, it is.”

  I refrained from calling him ‘Master of the Obvious’ because this conversation was going to be tense enough without me taking unnecessary digs. I didn’t want to dilute my message by polluting it with snark.

  “I’m glad you were able to make it bef—”

  “I’m not here because you summoned me before you left for London,” I interrupted. I’d never, in my life, dared to interrupt my father. I’m not sure what I thought would happen. But, now that I’d done it, I knew. The world hadn’t ended. The sun was still going to set tonight and rise tomorrow. A giant hole didn’t swallow me up.

  It was fine.

  His expression went blank. It was a power move he did to get the upper hand in business situations. He’d told me about it my first year with the company during a lunch that we ended up at together because of a scheduling mix-up. That scheduling mix-up was the last time I shared a meal with him, and it was eight years ago.

  “I’ve resigned my position at Santini Industries, effective immediately.” Before he had a chance to respond I asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about my medical condition?”

  Miles Santini was not a man that gave much away from his expression even when he wasn’t engaged in negotiations.

  Who was I kidding? The man was always engaged in negotiations. Life was a large chess board to him, and we were all his pawns.

  I stared at him, really looked for the first time. His square jaw, high cheekbones, and perfectly straight nose were easy to hide behind. Add to that his perfectly trimmed salt and pepper beard, and he looked like he could be a GQ model.

  I used to be intimidated by his near-perfect appearance. His level of attractiveness was just one more barrier to him being approachable. When I looked at him, I used to feel less than. Like maybe he didn’t want to acknowledge me because I didn’t live up to some standard he had for his offspring.

  But now…now, I just saw a lonely, aging man.

  His dark brown eyes stared at me as he sat silently. I almost cracked, I almost started speaking again. But I’d been watching him for too many years, and I knew if I did that, if I was the one to get emotional, it would give him the upper hand. There was no way that was going to happen.

  So, we sat in silence. I couldn’t say if it was one minute or ten. The time was irrelevant. I was willing to sit there until the sun went down if that’s what it took.

  When he sighed and sat back in his chair, I knew that I’d won. I’d faced Miles Santini and won. The victory filled me with an exorbitant amount of pride. My mind was buzzing with excitement. Literally, I could hear the buzz.

  So, I almost missed it when my father quietly said, “I promised your mother.”

  That was the last thing that I’d expected him to say. The high that I’d just been riding, crashed. “My mother?”

  He nodded and sat back up, rested his forearms on the desk, then leaned forward.

  “She had conditions, and she made me promise to abide by them.”

  “Conditions?”

  “Yes. When she was diagnosed you were four—”

  “Four? That’s when you left.” I’d never thought that highly of the man who had contributed half of my DNA, but any respect I’d had for him just went down the drain.

  “I didn’t leave, Isabella. I loved your mother.” His jaw ticked and something even more surprising than me besting him in a conversational showdown occurred. A tear appeared in his eye. He sniffed and cleared his throat. “I still love your mother. She kicked me out. She didn’t want me to get even
more attached than I was. There was no talking any sense into that woman. When she made her mind up about something, that was it. She wouldn’t hear reason.”

  Raw pain. Devastating heartache. Active grief. And undying love. That is what I saw in my father’s eyes. I’d never seen any emotion in them before and now I saw so much, it broke my heart.

  “She had conditions for how you were to be raised. And even conditions for after you were an adult. I’ve done my best to fulfill them.”

  “Was one of the conditions you not having a relationship with me?” I could hear the pain in my voice. Pain that I hadn’t even known I had.

  My father flinched at my question. It took me a moment to recognize the response. If someone would have told me that I’d see Miles Santini flinch, and not only that, but also that I was the one to cause it, I would have told them that they were crazy.

  “No. I’m to blame for that. It’s just…” He sniffed and using his forefinger and thumb, he wiped beneath his eyes. “It’s your eyes. You have her eyes. I can’t look at you and not see her.”

  I sat, speechless, at my father’s response. That was why he’d been so distant? Because I reminded him so much of my mother. Just like the reason that Jennings had taken a special interest in Cheyenne. Or Miss Shaw’s affection for Jimmy, who was the spitting image of his uncle.

  All these relationships had nothing to do with Jimmy, or Cheyenne, or me. They were all predicated on what we made people feel when they looked at us. My father not loving me, not having any interest in me, wasn’t anything I’d caused. So there was no way it was my fault. I knew, in that moment, that I’d always believed it truly was.

  As that epiphany sank in, I asked the next question I wanted an answer to. “Was one of her conditions paying off people I’m seeing?”

  My father’s chin dropped. It was the slightest of movements but one that I’d been trained to recognize thanks to studying the master of negotiation himself for all these years. That tiny action was a sign of defeat.

  “No. That was me, as well. I was trying to protect you. All I’ve ever done; I’ve done to protect you.” The sincerity in his voice and stare was powerful.