by Skylar Ward
Ace dragged his hands over his head, and his eyes darkened. “How dare you keep my daughter away from me for all these years?” How could you do this to our daughter—to me? Why?
Efia’s lips trembled. “Let’s talk in the living room.”
Ace grabbed Efia’s arm, halting her progress. “To hell with your living room,” he said. “We are talking right here, right now!”
Efia shifted from one leg to the other. “Based on your state of mind back then, I thought it best not to get in touch with you.”
“My state of mind?” Ace laughed sarcastically. “We aren’t talking about calling me up to say hello, Efia. We are talking about a child, my own flesh, and blood. A child you denied me the pleasure of seeing grow. Four years Efia—four freaking years.”
“I am sorry,” Efia whispered. She massaged her forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “Try putting yourself in my shoes for a second. I didn’t enjoy withholding your daughter from you. I was scared that you would reject me and possibly demand that I terminate her.”
Ace clasped both hands on top of his head, a look of unbelief covering his face. “Jesus, Efia, if you thought I was a monster, you could have just said, no.”
Efia glanced away.
Ace shook his head. “You thought that little of me, huh?”
“And didn’t you think that little of me when you decided to send me a check for ten thousand dollars?”
“You cashed it, didn’t you? Ace fired back.
Efia lifted her head in the air. “Only because of the baby.”
“Well thank God you had it. What time will my daughter be here?”
“She wanted to spend the night with her grandparents, I will pick her up tomorrow, after work.”
“Unacceptable!” Ace yelled. “You take the day off tomorrow and bring my daughter to me. I am staying at La Travesta Grand Hotel.”
“I have to work, I can’t just take the day off.”
“Don’t push me, Efia.”
“Fine,” Efia marched away. “I have to call Viktor.”
Ace followed.
Efia hesitated in the dining area. She blew out a shaky breath, unnerved by his presence. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the owner of Calico Cays Resort?”
“It was none of your business,” he replied. “Don’t you dare respond with Yasmine was none of mine, because I swear, Efia, I will find your parents’ home and take my child.”
Stunned by his rebuke, Efia held her peace. She entered the living room in search of her cell phone. Ace followed never taking his eyes off her as she punched the numbers into the phone.
“Hi, Viktor, this is Efia. A personal matter came up that I must deal with tomorrow.” Efia listened. “Thank you, I will see you on Thursday.” She faced Ace, praying that he would soon leave. “Is that all?”
“I am going to ask my lawyer to add my name to Yasmine’s birth certificate. And draft up papers to change her last name.”
“Kwateng-Davenport,” Efia said.
“Yasmine Acelyn Kwateng-Davenport? That is a mouthful, don’t you think?” Ace said.
“It is who she is,” Efia replied. “I don’t want to argue with you about this, but Kwateng isn’t going anyplace. Kwateng was good enough for four-plus years, you can’t swoop in here and demand a change.”
From the second, the words left Efia’s mouth, she knew that she had given Ace an opening to verbally swat her down, not that he needed any prompting.
“I wouldn’t have had to swoop in any place if I knew of her existence.” Ace took two steps forward.
Efia took three steps back.
“Someone decided to speak for me without giving me a chance to speak for myself.” Ace squinted. “Don’t think for one minute that I am buying your explanation. You are probably one of those women who wanted a child without having the man around.”
“Don’t act as though I didn’t think of you,” Efia said, reeling from his insults. “I gave her a middle name as close to yours as I could.”
“Do you want me to give you an applaud, Efia?”
“Why can’t you understand my position? I had a difficult choice to make, and I made the best one based on the situation.”
“You’ve made the best decision for you,” Ace said, pointing his finger at Efia. “You enjoyed our daughter for the past four years, denying me the joy of her love, her first steps, and every other milestone a parent is supposed to cherish. Should I be consoled because you found it in your heart to name her Acelyn?”
“No, of course not. I didn’t mean to imply that.”
Ace’s hard gaze swept over Efia, lingering on her lips and softening. Appearing torn between still finding her extremely attractive and the years he could never recapture, his anger intensified.
“I think it is time for Yasmine to be with me on a full-time basis,” he said.
“Over my dead body.”
Ace chuckled. “Don’t think I wouldn’t go over you to get to my daughter.”
“Don’t confuse me with the person you met at Calico Cays Resort, Ace. Don’t ever underestimate what I will do to protect my child. If I have to fight you with my bare hands, believe me, I will be happy to.”
“I can’t wait to do battle with you, Ms. Kwateng,” Ace said, “I haven’t felt this invigorated since …”
Ace’s incomplete sentence hung in the air.
What? Efia said.
Ace ignored her.
Acknowledging it wasn’t in her best interest to further annoy him, Efia pledged to herself to tread softly.
“I am willing to work with you,” she said.
“You are willing to work with me? How noble of you. It’s a pity your generosity gene didn’t kick in a few years back.”
His sarcasm didn’t upset Efia, in fact, she expected it.
“I get your anger, believe me, I do, but it’s in Yasmine’s interest we find a way to move forward, amicably.”
Opening a desk drawer, Efia removed a thick memory book and a notepad. After jotting a few entries on the pad, she tore the sheet off and handed it to Ace along with the memory book.
“This chronicles Yasmine’s life.” Efia pointed to her notes. This is the username and password for this site. Just about everything is recorded there—doctor’s visits, her birth, and all her birthday parties. She pointed to her YouTube site: Life with Efia + One. “If you log in here on my channel, you will see a lot more.”
Ace took the album and the note from Efia, placing them on her table. “This doesn’t absolve you, but thank you for documenting our daughter’s journey.” He reached into his jacket, removing a sterling silver monogrammed business card case. He opened it and handed a card to Efia. “This is my contact information.”
“Thank you,” Efia said, accepting the card.
“When is Yasmine’s birthday?” Ace asked.
“Her birthday was last week, the 9th. She was my birthday present.”
“Her birthday is a day before yours,” Ace said matter-of-factly.
Efia smiled. “You remembered.”
Her smile disappeared when he turned his back. As Ace made his way to the door, Efia recognized that Ace was still by far, one of the most attractive men she had ever met. And her dancing heart was in total agreement.
Chapter 7
Ace returned to his suite at La Travesta Grand Hotel. He couldn’t believe Efia Kwateng still knew how to get under his skin. As angry as he was, he again found himself wanting to hold her, to kiss her, and to bury himself deep within her folds. She had once plucked him from the darkness, bringing light into his world. Although withholding his daughter had ignited a fire an angered him, Ace knew the ho-hum life he had been prepared to settle for was about to be a thing of the past.
His body pulsed with excitement and he welcomed the challenge. Efia is right on one point, he thought. She isn’t the young woman I met in the Bahamas—oh, no. Her once slender figure is now ripe with feminine curves. The phone rang. Ace glanced be
fore placing the call on speaker.
“Hi, Boss.”
“Hi, Mary, there has been a slight change in plans. I will be returning to Massachusetts on Friday.”
“I’ll get in touch with the pilot.”
“I need to be in Massachusetts before nine o’clock. Also, set up an appointment with Dexter Sawyer for around ten.”
“Will do.”
“Put a standing order in with the florists for the next year. They can select the monthly flowers from amongst any of the ones that have been sent before.”
“Okay,” Mary said. “I will get on that.”
“Another thing, I plan to work from New York City for the foreseeable future. I’ll need an office here at the hotel.”
“Do you want Cheryl to join you or should I call in a temporary assistant?” Mary asked.
“Get a temp in for a week. That should give Cheryl enough time to prepare for the move.”
“Will do,” Mary said.
After his conversation concluded, Ace sent a text to Haley.
Ace: Need to meet with u for an hour or so Friday afternoon.
Haley: Friday night works better.
Ace: Not 4 me.
Haley: 2 or 3
Ace: 2
Haley: Can’t wait.
Ace threw the cell phone aside and lifted the in-room telephone. “Hold all my calls.”
Chapter 8
Ace ran an unsteady hand across the ultrasound of his daughter encased in her cocoon. The next photo brought a deep exhalation and a broad smile as he traced the perimeter of Efia’s bulging stomach.
“Beautiful,” he whispered. “I should have been with you every step of the way.”
Slowly, he turned the well-documented pages of his daughter’s memory book, absorbing the tiniest detail from her hospital bracelet, her first photograph with her mother, grandparents, and godmother.
As he turned each page, his chest tightened with love for the child he hardly knew but already felt connected to. Each photo serving to reinforce how much he had missed—how much he had been denied. When Ace reached the final page, a picture of Yasmine sitting in a high chair with Efia standing beside her, greeted him. A single-layered, bright pink cake stood on the table with a candle in the shape of a One.
Choked up, he whispered, “I love you, Yasmine Acelyn Davenport.”
Ace closed his eyes for a few minutes, committing every detail to memory. Next, he fired up his computer and searched Efia’s YouTube channel.
He did a double take. “Over eight hundred thousand subscribers?” He shook his head in disbelief. “She shared my daughter with everyone—except me.”
The Popular Uploads section caught his eyes. Yasmine’s birth had garnered more than seven million views.
“What the hell is Efia doing parading my daughter online?”
He clicked the video. The vlog unfolded with Efia in a hospital bed with her mother at her side. He winced watching Efia shriek with pain. His hard stance began to ease. Efia cried out. Ace’s hands tightened around the edges of the desk. She cried once more. Ace’s anger slipped further. By the third time, Efia cried, Ace’s anger was fast receding.
“Come on, sweetheart, you can do it, push, Efia,” he said, joining Rosina as coach. He held his breath when Efia grabbed her mother’s hand.
“Ahhhhh! Mom, I think my daughter has a big head like her dad, she is ripping me apart.”
Between the tears which had landed on his cheeks and his racing pulse, Ace chuckled, “A big head? My head isn’t that big, is it?”
When the doctor declared, ‘the baby was crowning,’ Ace’s chuckles morphed into gut-wrenching spasms. Intellectually, he was acutely aware that Yasmine was now four years old and appeared to be in perfect health, however, physically he was a father experiencing the bodily pains of the birth of his child.
“Push, Efia, push, sweetheart.”
“She is here,” he heard the doctor say. Ace held his breath—waiting.
A few minutes later when the camera zoomed in on his newborn daughter resting on Efia’s chest, Ace caressed Yasmine’s head over the computer screen, grateful that Efia’s mom had been at her side.
“I am sorry, sweetheart,” Ace said. “I am so sorry you felt the need to exclude me.”
“What is that beneath Yasmine’s right eye?” Ace heard Efia’s mother asked.
When Efia ran her finger beneath their daughter’s eye and declared, ‘You have the same birthmark as your daddy, Yasmine,’ Ace’s heart swelled with pride.
When the vlog ended, he checked the time—10:35 P.M. With sleep and sustenance, the furthest thing from his mind, Ace vowed to soldier on through as many vlogs as time permitted.
Chapter 9
Keeping his pledge, Ace stayed up the entire night delving into Yasmine and Efia’s journey, or as much as the videos allowed. As he viewed each birthday video and each milestone celebrated without him, a pattern had emerged—a man who others referred to as, ‘Sam,’ had continued to shower Yasmine with gifts. Ace pushed the annoyance aside, preferring to focus on a new day.
With all appointments canceled, he couldn’t wait for his daughter to arrive. He scanned the room and smiled at the four pink balloons, rising in the corner and emblazoned with the words ‘to Yasmine with love from daddy.’ He checked the bright Crayola chocolate bars from Dylan’s Candy Bar, resting on the coffee table along with a box of yellow duck candy.
“Ah, the fruit.” He snapped his fingers and made his way to the kitchenette, returning with a fruit platter which he placed on the coffee table.
He took one more look around the suite, the concierge had done a fabulous job on short notice, but Ace expected it, after all, his hotels and spas were always rated in the top fifty in TRAVEL+LEISURE magazine.
The phone rang.
Ace snatched the device from the coffee table. “Davenport. Yes, send them up.”
He hung up the phone and gave the room a once-over before opening the door in anticipation of Efia and Yasmine’s arrival. When they exited the elevator with the security officer, Ace hurried to their side.
“Thank you,” he said to the officer. “I can take it from here.”
“You are welcome, Mr. Davenport,” The security officer said, pressing the DOWN button on the elevator.
Ace turned to Yasmine who held onto her mother’s hand. Dressed in a black T-shirt, skinny black pants, black flat boots, and a short pink windbreaker, she was the most adorable four-year-old in the world to Ace.
“Hello, princess,” he said.
Efia nudged her daughter. “Say hi, Yasmine.”
Ace smiled, mindful of the officer’s presence. “Why don’t you run ahead, princess.”
Yasmine looked up at her mother. Efia nodded. And Yasmine took off down the hallway.
Walking beside Efia, Ace discreetly inspected her skinny black jeans, white T-shirt, round heel ankle boots, and a black sweater. He inhaled her perfume. It was no longer the soft scent he remembered. It had an edge, yet, it was not overwhelming. He liked it.
When they entered his suite, Ace approached Yasmine and dropped to his knees. He extended his hand. “Hi, Yasmine, I am your father.”
Yasmine moved her hands behind her back. A sharp pain stabbed Ace in his chest as he watched his child.
“Shake your dad’s hand,” Efia said. “Remember I told you we were visiting your father?”
For a split second, the word dad rolled around his brains. Inwardly vowing to cherish the day Yasmine spoke the word, Ace said, “I won’t hurt you, princess.”
“No,” Yasmine said, “you made my mommy cry.”
The silence stretched for several minutes before Ace stared angrily up at Efia. Efia twisted her body evading his glare.
Ace stood. “I am no expert on child rearing, but I don’t think it is wise to force her. We should reschedule.”
“She’ll be comfortable at home,” Efia said. “Why don’t you stop by?”
“Makes sense,” Ace said. �
�In the interim, try not to poison her against me.”
“Not in front of her, please,” Efia said through clenched teeth. “Sit here for a minute, Yasmine.” Efia pointed to a chair. “Hold my purse, I want to talk to your dad.”
Yasmine sat down, folding her hands over the bag.
“Is she always this quiet?” Ace asked.
“Never.” Efia laughed. “One day, you will wish she will be silent when she starts to talk your head off.”
“I doubt that,” Ace said.
“Contrary to what you might believe,” Efia whispered. “I would never say anything bad about you to Yasmine. After I saw you, I was a bit emotional.”
Ace watched Efia as she looked around the space, her eyes lingering on the balloons in the corner.”
“Do you think she will accept them?” Ace asked.
“I wouldn’t give them to her,” Efia said. “You don’t want to reinforce her behavior.”
Ace nodded. “What time shall I stop by?”
“You can come by anytime,” Efia said. She went over to Yasmine. “Come on sweetie, let us go.”
Yasmine slid from the chair and pointed to the balloons. “Can I get a balloon, Mommy?”
“Those belong to your dad, sweetie, you have to ask him.”
“But it has my name.”
“You still have to ask your dad.”
Yasmine shook her head.
“Sorry,” Efia mouthed to Ace.
“It’s okay,” Ace said. “I am leaving for Massachusetts on Friday to wrap up a few issues, I will be back Sunday. We will have plenty of time to bond. Let me walk you to the elevator.”
“We eat dinner at seven o’clock,” Efia said. “Why don’t you come by tonight? To see Yasmine,” Efia quickly added.
Yasmine smiled up at her mother.
“I will see you later, princess,” Ace said, hoping their next encounter would be a productive one.
Chapter 10
“I was horrified, Mom,” Efia said, lifting her feet onto the couch. “I couldn’t believe Yasmine remembered my tears.”
“Has she ever seen you cry before?” Rosina asked.
