Archer: Ex-Bachelor (Ex-Club Romance)

by Camilla Stevens

“Do you honestly think I don’t know what you were up to last night?”

  I turn to her with my eyebrows raised. She still has her attention focused on Stuart. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “Oh drop it, Archer,” she says, turning to me and raising her glasses again. “What was it, were you looking for some reason to criticize me yet again?”

  I have no idea what she means by “yet again.” We haven’t seen one another since the wedding and she certainly wasn’t ever a topic of conversation during any phone calls or meetings with Kevin.

  “Stuart was anxious to see you so I thought—”

  “—you’d just drop in unannounced. God, you really are something.”

  “Whatever malicious games you suspect me of playing at Simone, you’re wrong.”

  “You just keep in mind that there is a little boy here who’s just lost his parents.” She actually pokes her finger in my chest as she says it. “A little boy who needs love and support from everyone in his life.”

  She turns to look at Stuart again. “Frankly, if it was up to me, you wouldn’t be a part of it. Why disrupt the status quo, after all? But he seems to have…grown attached to you. I can’t fathom why.”

  For some reason, this fills me with a dose of pleasure heavily colored by confusion. A nephew I never bothered to get to know has somehow managed to grow “attached” to me in a manner of days.

  I know that I’ve never been her favorite person, but there’s a resentment radiating from her that seems to go beyond even my little stunt last night. For the life of me I can’t figure out why. After six years, I would have thought she’d completely forgotten about me. Even at the wedding, we said a maybe total of five complete sentences to one another.

  I know why it is that I’ve never been particularly fond of her. If I’m honest with myself I’d realize how immature the reason is. It’s something I should be completely over by now, but once again, Simone Parker has managed to work her way into my system. I was twenty-six at the time, which was old enough to know better even then, but—

  I see Stuart reaching a bit too far to touch one of the boats and on the brink of falling into the pond. We both react at the same time.

  “Stuart!”

  “Whoah there, buddy!”

  I reach him first, grabbing him underneath the arms before he teeters in. Simone is right on my heels as I pull him up into a standing position.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” she asks, squatting down in front of him with a concerned look on her face.

  “He’s fine,” I say with a confident chuckle, letting go of him.

  She frowns up at me then softens her face when she looks at him again for confirmation. Stuart is actually laughing, which causes her to frown even more.

  “See?” I point out, feeling that Bennett pride come back.

  She just glares up at me and rises, smoothing down his hair for good measure.

  “If you’re interested in actually getting on the water, I think there are some real boats we can rent somewhere,” I say to him.

  Why the hell did I just propose that idea?

  “Can we?” he’s directed the question to me, which causes Simone to cross her arms and plump out her bottom lip my way.

  “Sure thing,” I say with a grin.

  In retrospect, the boat probably wasn’t a great idea.

  Stuart is loving it, leaning over the side to drag his fingers in the water with a lazy smile.

  Simone is sitting there pretty as a picture in her pink lace dress and lace-up shoes and handbag on her lap. Her glasses are back down on her face, but I can sense the smug look as I’m the one left rowing the three of us across the pond.

  I’ve done plenty of sessions on the rowing machine as part of my workout routine but the real thing is a far different beast. It took a bit of coordination at first, but I finally have the hang of it.

  “Is there a heaven, Aunt Simone?” Stuart asks, his focus still on the water.

  Simone and I look at each other in surprise, then down at Stuart. I wonder if being on the lake has made him think of Kevin and Bette lying somewhere in the Atlantic. She lifts her glasses and leans over to his back as she replies. “Hmm, what do you think?”

  “I don’t know.”

  A sad smile comes to her face. “I don’t know either, Stuart.”

  “Do you know, Uncle Archer?” he asks squinting my way.

  “I don’t know,” I echo, feeling that it’s a safe enough answer.

  “I do know this though, sweetie,” Simone continues. “Wherever your parents are they are together and happy and looking out for you to make sure you are safe and happy too.”

  That kind of susses it up to them being in heaven after all, but I leave it alone. This is one area I’m not going near with a ten foot pole.

  Stuart turns to her. “Are they looking at you too?”

  “I certainly hope so,” she says with a smile.

  “And Uncle Archer?”

  “I certainly hope so as well,” she says in a way has an entirely different meaning.

  Stuart turns his attention back to the water to process all of this.

  I’ve never really thought of the afterlife one way or another, but it does make me think. Are they looking down at us right now? I’m sure they’d both be surprised at the picture they found.

  Simone, Stuart, and Archer happily enjoying a Sunday afternoon rowing a boat in Central Park.

  How fucking quaint.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Stuart is with Simone for now, and it’s finally back to business as usual in my life. Today, I’m schmoozing the latest clients Bennett Financial has managed to snag. Neil and Avery Karapetian are both only in their mid-twenties, but the two brothers have created several smart phone apps that have made them multi-millionaires.

  “So as I said, I’ll be in London for two weeks starting tomorrow, but one hundred percent available if you need anything. We’ve got your accounts all set up and Larry, one of my best VP’s here in New York, is in charge of them while I’m gone. He’s an extremely competent investment manager. I’d trust him with my own finances.”

  They haven’t quite met the $50 million threshold for an account with us, but I’ve learned that when it comes to the tech industry there’s always more to be made and these two are growing their passive income exponentially. More importantly, any good word they can spread to others in the industry is always a bonus.

  I’ve just taken the two of them to lunch and have just arrived on the floor where my office is located. That’s when I see her.

  Simone Parker.

  She’s sitting on the edge of Agnes’ desk chatting happily with my secretary. She’s still got those pink ends to her hair. For once, she’s not wearing pink but a white off the shoulder blousy thing tucked into a skin-tight aqua skirt. Her long brown legs end in brown sandaled heels so it almost looks as though she’s barefoot.

  In my damn office.

  Agnes is attentively hanging on to her every word.

  “I mean green is definitely your color. With that fabulous auburn hair of yours, you’d be killin’ it. The perm though,” Simone purses her lips doubtfully. “As much as I love curls, sometimes straight is a good thing. And I’m picturing a pair of cat-eye glasses instead of round. It would suit your face better.”

  I can feel the tension in my muscles build. What the hell is she doing here? And where the hell is Stuart?

  “Nice,” mutters one of my new clients as we head closer.

  Simone glances up giving me a nonchalant smile

  “Simone, what are you doing here?” I ask tightly.

  “Oh I just thought since we were in the business of dropping in on one another, I’d stop by to chat.”

  “Well, as you can see I’m with—”

  “Oh, this won’t take too long,” she interrupts, pulling herself off the desk and coming toward us. She gives a dazzling smile to the two men with me.

  “You two don’t mind if I steal Archer
for five minutes or so, do you? We have to discuss our nephew.”

  She actually rests a hand on the shoulder of Avery, which elicits a glazed smile. These two have the sort of awkward, nerdy look that no doubt made them invisible throughout high school to girls like Simone. With the money they’ve amassed so far, that has probably already changed, yet they are still completely enraptured.

  “This will just have to wait until—” I begin.

  “Not a problem,” says Neil.

  “Yeah, we can hang out here,” adds Avery.

  “Nonsense,” I say, trying to sound less irritated than I’m feeling. “Whatever Simone has come here to—”

  “Thank you so much,” she interrupts, giving them that dazzling smile again. She actually starts walking toward the door to my office as if the matter is settled.

  Dammit! I give Agnes—the only person left to blame this on—a hard look. Hopefully it’s severe enough for her to prevent any future intrusions like this from Simone.

  “Archer?” Simone says, turning round and raising an eyebrow my way.

  I could come off like the asshole and tell her to come back later or make a damn appointment. There’s a sure way to lose business. Instead, I grit my teeth and give Neil and Avery a confident smile.

  “This shouldn’t take long,” I say and follow her into my office.

  As soon as we enter, I close the door and turn on her.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hiss.

  “I need a bigger apartment,” she says breezily, settling down into one of the chairs across from my desk. She crosses her legs and settles comfortably into the seat.

  Just so she doesn’t get any ideas about dragging this meeting out longer than necessary I remain standing. “I beg your pardon?”

  “As you already know,” she says, giving me a hard look, “my apartment is a one bedroom. It’s perfect for me but not for both Stuart and me.”

  I just stare at her.

  “Unless of course you want your own nephew sleeping on the living room couch?” she hints.

  The last thing I need is for her to start making permanent plans with Stuart. In less than a month I’ll have control of everything and she’ll be out of the picture. I sure as hell don’t plan on entangling her in my life more than I need to, like paying the extra rent on an apartment she’s just signed a lease for.

  “Speaking of our nephew, where exactly is he right now?”

  “He’s with my friend CoCo.”

  “That man from the party?” I ask in disbelief. My mind quickly recalls the man with pink glitter who was drunk as hell.

  “That man who happens to be one of my best friends. He also happens to have five nephews of his own, nephews that he’s actually babysat for before. He and Stuart are getting along wonderfully.”

  I’m suddenly rethinking spending two whole weeks in London. The combination of Simone and this “CoCo” having any influence for even that long is unsettling.

  “Now, as for the apartment, I was thinking—”

  “Let’s not do anything rash,” I say quickly.

  “What exactly is rash about giving Stuart his own bedroom?”

  “All I’m saying is, you don’t want to rush into getting a place.”

  “Why not?” She gives me a suspicious look.

  “You need to make sure you find just the right place, with the right schools and neighbors and…other factors.” I’m pulling most of this out of my ass. I have no idea what goes into finding the right place to live for a five year old, but it sounds convincing enough to my own ears for someone like Simone.

  “I really think that finding an apartment sooner would be better. Stuart needs some semblance of permanence in his life. It’s not fair to shuffle him around from place to place.”

  “Exactly.”

  She frowns in confusion.

  “You want to make sure you find the right place for him. Do you really want to jump at the first place you can find out of desperation? Take your time finding a place. This way you can look around, check out different neighborhoods and make sure you come to just the right decision.”

  She looks at me doubtfully.

  “Like I said, I’ll be gone for two weeks. That should give you plenty of time to find the perfect place,” I say again.

  And plenty of time for me to get the ball rolling on taking over guardianship.

  “I don’t know….” She twists her mouth. I’m sure she hates being reliant on me for anything.

  “I really do think it’s the best solution, Simone,” I say, giving her that tiny little nudge while she’s still on the fence. “You want to do what’s best for Stuart.”

  That should do it.

  She gives me one last skeptical look then shrugs. “We’ll see. But if it turns out to have a negative effect on him I’ll have to insist on—”

  “Perfect,” I interrupt, heading toward the door as a hint. “I’ll have Agnes get everything set up for you.”

  I hear her heave a sigh behind me and rise to follow.

  Neil and Avery are still waiting outside, thankfully, and perk up when they see Simone follow me out.

  She breezes past me and that flowery scent of hers follows.

  “Thank you both so much,” she says, this time placing a hand on Neil’s shoulder. She really does know how to handle people, I’ll give her that.

  “And Agnes, it was so nice to meet you,” she says smiling down at my secretary.

  “You too Simone,” Agnes says with almost the same expression of awe that Neil and Avery have.

  “Archer,” she says over her shoulder in a cool tone just as she turns to leave.

  I watch her go, my irritation going with her.

  Two more weeks then I’m rid of her for good. It can’t come fast enough.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I’m back in London with Charles O’Bannion discussing the concerns that Larry brought up with me.

  “He said the REITs came from our office?” Charles wrinkles his brow. “I can look into it further, but I’m pretty certain the original suggestion came from New York.”

  “Either way, we’re going to continue to put a hold on all further purchases. You should also look into quietly selling at least a few of them off, just so we aren’t too heavily exposed.”

  Charles raises his eyebrows. “Well, our investors won’t be pleased. They were performing quite well.”

  “Too well.”

  “Yes, I suppose you do have a point there,” he concedes after a moment. “I’ll make sure that everyone is informed.”

  “While we’re on the topic of investing,” he continues, “I should point out that Excelsior has made noise about renewing their offer to buy into Bennett Financial. I suppose, with Kevin gone, they assume—”

  “Absolutely not,” I say firmly, giving him a look that prevents further discussion on the matter.

  “Understood,” he says quickly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

  I settle back into my seat and let that bit of news blow over. Excelsior Investments is a London-based firm that first came to Kevin almost six months ago with an offer to buy into our company. They are much larger than us, but with less of a presence in New York so we were an ideal choice for a merger. My brother and I were in firm agreement that the answer would be no. Bennett Financial started as a family-owned company and it will stay firmly in the family’s control.

  “Moving on,” I say, shifting the topic, “With Kevin gone, I’ve decided that you should take over as head of the London office…permanently. Kevin trusted you enough and I have faith in his judgement.”

  He straightens in his chair with a smile. “Well…thank you Archer.”

  “No, thank you. This has obviously been a huge disruption and you’ve helped make sure that business has continued uninterrupted. You’ve earned this.”

  “You can certainly depend on me.”

  I just nod hoping he doesn’t get too sycophantic over this. It’s an arrangeme
nt made solely out of necessity, and only permanent as long as he continues to perform well.

  “So…I understand they have finally found the site of the crash?”

  “Yes,” I reply, shifting in my seat uncomfortably. “They’re going down to try and recover the debris and hopefully find some answers as to what happened.”

  He just nods with a curious look on his face. “Do they suspect foul play?”

  “I can’t imagine why,” I say with a slight frown. “Why on earth would anyone want to sabotage the plane?”

  “You’re right of course,” he says shaking his head with an apologetic smile. “It was probably just one of those horrid mishaps. A shame really.”

  “Hmm,” I agree, nodding my head, even though he’s brought up the very thing I had been wondering about. A random mishap is certainly more plausible than foul play. I think back to the conversation I had with Stuart. Flying is the safest form of travel. I know for a fact that the private planes we use are extra cautious about this sort of thing, since they cater to the richest men in the world.

  Besides, who the hell would want Kevin or Bette dead?

  “What the hell is she thinking?”

  I’m leaning forward, staring in horror at the series of pictures that Mike has just sent me.

  “I thought these might perk you up,” he responds, laughing over the phone.

  I, on the other hand, am in no laughing mood. Mostly because I’m staring at a picture of my nephew, whose hair has been cut into a short faux hawk …and dyed purple.

  I’ve already been in touch with the Knickerbocker School to obtain all the necessary paperwork and set up an interview to get the ball rolling on enrolling him next year. The entrance requirements are strict and very rigid. No amount of greasing the palms—a.k.a. money for a new building, perhaps—will overcome an “unsuitable” candidate. I can’t think of anything more unsuitable than a goddamn purple faux hawk.

  I look closer at the photo. Perhaps the purple portion can be shaved off. The nearly-bald look may not make the best first impression with the admission board, but it’s better than this hot mess.