Billionaire Benefactor Daddy: A Single Dad & Virgin Romance Boxset

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Billionaire Benefactor Daddy: A Single Dad & Virgin Romance Boxset Page 23

by Natalia Banks


  Lorraine couldn't help but notice Rachel gazing lovingly at Ashe, so impressed with his sense of control, power, even at his young age. She also recognized that admiring gaze in Griffin when he looked at her, his wife of three years now. Lorraine knew she’d earned it every bit as much as Ashe was earning it then. She knew that Ashe had learned from her example, that she had been instrumental in putting him on that stage, in a place and position where he could really blossom and flourish. And it seemed to her that he was doing just that, talking her through the stage blocking, patiently discussing the character’s inner world, her motivations.

  Even though Ashe was recreating the day his birth mother was tragically killed, he didn’t let the sorrow show. There was one brief moment when he paused during his stage notes, when they were analyzing the mom’s decision to leave the house, which she almost didn’t do, at least in the script. That fateful moment registered with young Ashe, it was undeniable. But, he had written it and was committed to bringing it to life.

  And Lorraine was committed to helping him any way she could.

  The first thing Lorraine noticed was that her mother, Sally Devonshire, wasn’t holding her usual martini glass. And instead of her usual, dusty, once-fashionable clothes, she was wearing a green track suit.

  Larry Devonshire wore a matching suit, but in blue. It’s funny, Lorraine couldn’t help but think, even when they’re on the same page, they clash.

  They peered out from the Skype window of Lorraine’s laptop sitting on the couch of their family home in Denver.

  From a quiet place in the penthouse family room, Lorraine said, “I wish you’d let us buy you a new house, one nicer, or a condo on the Gulf or something.”

  “Stop it dear, we're just fine. You've done more than enough for us already, believe me.”

  Lorraine asked, “So how’s it going out there?”

  “The PEEC project center couldn’t be going any better,” Sally said, raising a metal water bottle to her lips instead of her former day drink. “I think we should open a second one in Lincoln Park.”

  Larry nodded. “And the numbers are lining up. I may not be the kind of accountant Griffin would have around the New York offices, but we’re in the black.”

  Lorraine couldn’t help but smile, and she didn’t want to help it. “If we had more people like you on the board, the last few years would have gone a lot more smoothly.” They chuckled, and Lorraine said, “Daddy, you’re … quite conservative these days. You’re not still into those Malapropisms?”

  Sally said, “Since the center opened, we’ve both been so busy overseeing it, and our own businesses … dear, I can’t tell you what a blessing it’s been, and what a blessing you’ve been. We’re so proud of you, Lorraine.”

  Larry smiled, too. “It’s true, baby, you’re achieving such incredible things.”

  Lorraine wondered if they could see her blush over the internet streaming connection, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t need to hide anything from her parents anymore, and she knew she’d never have to worry about that again. They’d reached a balance that Lorraine had always hoped for, that she’d worked her whole life for. Lorraine felt like she’d earned their respect, earned her place in their family in addition to her own family with Griffin.

  Everything was working out just perfectly …

  Jeremy and Anton Le Deux sat on the other side of Griffin’s desk in his study, Lorraine sitting nearby. The polished walnut panelling and bookshelves gave the room a sleekness without sacrificing the warmth of all that wood, the coziness of the books and the family photos hanging on the walls. Lorraine, Ashe, Kayla and Griffin smiled out from behind the glass panes, from the Eiffel Tower in Paris, a mountaintop in Sweden, wearing cheesy Mickey Mouse ear hats during their weekend at Disney World.

  Jeremy leaned forward from his chair, his husband Anton quiet and nodding next to him. “We don’t mean to intrude, Grif,” Jeremy said. “You’ve already been so kind, so generous.”

  “It’s okay, Jeremy. You’re like family, we always want to help anyway we can.” Griffin assured.

  Anton nodded, his tall, lean body bend forward from one of the two chairs pulled up to the other side of the desk. His long black dreadlocks hung over his dark face. “Irie, big up!”

  “And we wouldn’t bother either of you, but we really don’t have anywhere else to turn,” Jeremy said hesitantly.

  Sitting behind his desk, fingers tented in front of his chin, Griffin asked, “What do you need, Jeremy?”

  “Well,” he said nervously, biting his lower lip, “taking care of your kids has just been so great, such a blessing, and watching Lorraine being such a good mother, it’s kind of made me think that Anton and I would like to raise a child, too.”

  Griffin and Lorraine glanced at one another, neither certain of the source of Jeremy’s nervousness.

  “And we wish you the best,” Griffin said. “You’re talking about adoption, or a surrogate? You’re not thinking of Lorraine to carry your — ”

  “No no,” Jeremy said, waving his hand in front of his face to help erase the idea, “not that at all. We’ve looked into adoption, but it’s really hard for men in our situation.”

  Lorraine said, “You’re legally married. There aren’t any legal problems with adopting, are there?”

  “It’s legal, if that’s what you mean. And we’ve already done as much paperwork as we can on it. But let’s face it, there are thousands of straight couples waiting for newborns, even young babies. We’re also a mixed-race couple, and Anton wasn’t a citizen until we married. And he’s Jamaican, another unspoken check against us.”

  “What about an older kid, or the foster care program? There are a lot of needy kids who’d be thrilled to have two fine fathers like you. I know they’re always looking for foster families.”

  “Traditional families,” Jeremy said. “At least most adoption agencies are private. The foster care system is run by the government, and that’s a whole other bureaucracy.”

  “Tell me about it,” Lorraine said, shaking her head. “The public library system’s the same way, the Education Department, too.”

  Griffin asked, “You don’t know anybody … present company excluded … who might carry a child, one with your own DNA? There are private surrogates, but I don’t imagine they come very cheap.”

  “Twenty thousand dollars,” Jeremy said, “and up.”

  Griffin glanced at Lorraine, then back at Jeremy and Anton. “That’s it?” he asked surprised.

  Jeremy went on, “And related expenses, tests and that kind of thing. And, um, now that we’re talking about it, I don’t actually have any health insurance.”

  “Oh, that’s right, because you’re not on the company payroll.”

  “That’s right, Household payroll,” Jeremy said.

  Griffin and Lorraine swapped another glance, Griffin rubbing the back of his head and sighed. “Okay. First of all, Jeremy, you’re fired.”

  “What?”

  Anton asked, “Wah gwaan?”

  Griffin smiled. “You’re now an employee of Phoenix Enterprises. We’ll call you an operations specialist, I think that adequately describes what you do around here.” Jeremy and Anton sat with stunned but grateful smiles, Lorraine’s smile not so stunned but just as sincere. Griffin went on, “I’ll have to double your pay, naturally.”

  Lorraine muttered, “Griffin … ”

  “Oh, I apologize,” Griffin said without a trace of sarcasm or irony, “I really should discuss it with my wife.” To Lorraine, he asked, “Do you approve?”

  “Um, yes, of course.”

  “Very good,” Griffin said, leaning back in his chair. “But it’s just not going to be that easy, I’m afraid.”

  Lorraine asked, “Grif?”

  With a shrug, Griffin said, “A signing bonus, of course. If I don’t do that, what kind of performance can I expect? We’re talking about the care of my children, my family.” Lorraine knew Jeremy meant more than just the kids
, he meant taking care of Jeremy, whom they both considered family. “Hundred grand enough?”

  Anton muttered, “One hundred t’ousan’t?”

  “No, you’re right,” Griffin said, “this is New York. Let’s make it five, the hundred-K will be a holiday bonus. Will that about do it?”

  Jeremy and Anton stammered, eyes wide, heads nodding. “Yes,” Jeremy said, “and more, a lot more. Griffin, it’s too much — ”

  “Nonsense,” Griffin said. “Find the adoption agency you want to work with, explain to them that we’re willing to go the extra mile to make things happen. They’ll know what you mean.”

  Jeremy was near to tears, but Griffin just smiled and extended his hand. Jeremy took it eagerly, shaking it with one hand while cupping it with the other. “I will, Grif, I will, and thank you so much!” He was overwhelmed with a flood of emotions.

  “Happy to do it,” Griffin smiled, turning to shake Anton’s hand. “I’ll pop by the offices, have a contract and some checks written up, take care of the details.”

  “T’ank you, Mistah Griffins, arie!” Anton beamed.

  Griffin’s landline phone on the desk rang. “Griffin Phoenix.” Lorraine watched Griffin take the call while Jeremy and Anton smiled and slid out the door to allow the Phoenix couple to get on with other business.

  “Really,” Griffin said, his tone catching Lorraine’s attention. She leaned closer, hearing no more of the other side of the conversation but unable to resist the temptation to try. “Okay,” Griffin said, “I see. Well, all right, thanks for the call … Yeah, keep me posted.” Griffin put the phone back on the cradle.

  “Bad news?”

  “Good guess.” Griffin grimaced.

  Chapter 4

  Lorraine had never seen a deposition given before, and she knew she'd have to give her own soon enough. She wasn't eager to see the man they'd be deposing, but she had to hear what he was going to say, how bad his lies were going to be.

  Tony Gardner had been shaving his head, the very thin layer of stubble giving him a stark, almost skeletal look, his right arm just a bit out of alignment. He wore a short-sleeve button-down shirt to make sure the arm was visible, palm facing up as it lay idle by his side. Behind him and scattered around the cold blandly decorated room, several oil paintings sat on easels, mostly pastoral work; meadows, mountains, sunset skies, a few fairly well-rendered portraits in pallet knife including Albert Einstein and Ernest Hemingway.

  Griffin’s attorney, Hal Rodney was graying and pale but with the etched face of a man who worked hard, maybe too hard. “Mister Gardner, you say you did nothing at all to provoke this attack by Mr. Griffin in that Denver train station?”

  “That’s right! I was just walkin’, all the sudden that maniac’s got my hand, arm all bent back. Wham, I’m on my back, y’know? And he just keeps pushing it, pushing it, twisting harder and harder. I tell him to stop, beg him to stop, that he's breaking my arm. He says, ‘No, I’m popping your tendons,’ and then the guy cranks my arm, and I can hear the bones crack, man. He smiles and says, ‘Now I broke your arm.’ That’s fucked up, man! This guy can’t be loose on the streets, he’s a public menace.”

  “All right, Mr. Gardner,” Hal said, glancing down at his folder. Lorraine and Griffin watched from the other side of the table, not far from where Tony’s own lawyer was making notes, a recording machine on the table tracking every word of the deposition.

  Hal went on, “And you’re saying there was no provocation at all, none whatsoever.”

  “That’s right. He said something about me attacking his girlfriend or something, I guess she’s his wife. But I didn’t do that. And when they tried to pin it on me, the police blew it and I walked. Because that’s justice!” he declared.

  Lorraine looked at him, forcing herself to stare right at him and not look away. She’d done it before, in the train station when Griffin did all that damage to his arm, and she was ready to do it again, even eager. Lorraine didn’t want that man to think he had any further hold on them, that he could hurt her in any way.

  Even though both of them knew that was no longer true.

  Hal asked, “Then, why do you suppose Mr. Phoenix attacked you in the first place?”

  Tony shrugged, shaking his head from his slumped position in the deposition room chair. “Look, I think she thinks I’m the guy, I don't doubt that. And yeah, I lived in the Denver area at that time, that’s probably the reason for the mix up. But, there aren’t any credit card records for me at that bar that night.”

  “You paid cash,” Lorraine blurted out, withdrawing sheepishly under the glare of every professional in the room.

  Hal said, “It’s true, you could could have paid cash. Your bank records show you did deposit a relatively small amount into your accounts.”

  “I didn’t earn much,” Tony said. “I was a struggling artist, man! And I had a career ahead of me, too! I was a genius, anybody’ll tell you. But that all went to shit that day in the train station. And all I was doing was walking out to the car, man!”

  Tony’s lawyer muttered a few things about the paintings, all of which were being submitted as evidence.

  Hal said, “You assert that Griffin Phoenix destroyed your painting career that day.”

  “Of course he did! Look at me! My arm is fucked! And I’ve got medical records, x-rays … ”

  “But that incident occurred quite some time ago, didn’t it? Three years ago, Mr. Gardner.”

  “Yeah, so?” he snarled.

  “Well, that’s quite a long to time to realize that you were a painter, and that you couldn’t paint anymore.”

  Tony nodded, a bitter sneer on his face. “First of all, I didn’t have good heath care, alright? Secondly, I kept thinking, hoping it would get better, heal up. Then I decided to try to just, y’know, paint through it.”

  “Paint through it,” Hal repeated.

  “Yeah, because I was that dedicated to my work. But I just can’t do it anymore.”

  Hal walked around the conference table, glancing at the paintings. “They’re really quite good, very promising.”

  “Yer damn right! And that’s gonna cost Mr. Moneybags here, goin’ around breakin’ people’s arms, shattering their dreams, just because he’s rich and he thinks he can do whatever he wants! That ain’t right, and it ain’t tight.”

  “Okay, Mr. Gardner, okay. So you painted these before the incident in Denver, in the train station?”

  Tony shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah! When else?”

  “Just clarifying, Mr. Gardner. So … You did all these, and presumably more?” Hal questioned.

  “Yeah, well, some. These are the best ones though.” Tony said matter of factly.

  “I see. Did you ever enter any of these paintings in any shows or competitions?” Hal went on.

  “Um, no, I think that’s a misuse of the art.” He said, slightly confused.

  “A misuse?” Hal repeated.

  “Yeah.”

  “Even though it could advance your career and get your art out there in front of more people. That's the general idea of being an artist, isn’t it?” Hal shot a look back at Tony.

  Tony gave it some thought, then some more. “I guess?” he then reconsidered, “No, no, art for it’s own sake, that’s what they say.”

  “Yet, you want to sue my client for hundreds of millions of dollars, in exchange for a career which you didn’t seem interested in pursuing. Would you like to clarify that?” Hal said assuredly.

  Tony’s shaved head lolled on his shoulders. “I still should have the option for a career in the future if I choose to have one. The fact is that I can’t have one now, and Mr. Phoenix took that choice away from me. That’s why he has to pay!” Tony angrily blurted out.

  Twenty minutes later, Lorraine and Griffin and Hal Rodney walked down the steps of the courthouse, a faint spring breeze pushing back a lock of Griffin’s dusty blond hair. Lorraine asked Hal, “Well, now what?”

  Hal glanced a
round, pulling up his belt as they reached the bottom of the steps. “Get some experts, have our own doctors check him out. Can’t lie to you though, Grif, you may think about settling.”

  But Griffin was already shaking his head. “No, Hal, not yet. It’s too early to talk about settling.”

  “I’m not talking about settling, I’m talking about thinking about settling.”

  “Gather your experts, Hal. We’ll start thinking about talking about thinking about all that shit later. I don’t like to settle.”

  Hal’s brows raised on his wrinkled forehead. “Could avoid a lot of bad publicity, keep those stock prices up.”

  “Or it could welcome a stream of law suits.” Griffin challenged.

  Hal cocked an eye at Griffin and countered “Griffin, how many men have you beat up?”

  “It’s not that,” Griffin said. “One nuisance lawsuit begets ten more, you know that.”

  “Is this really a nuisance lawsuit, Grif? I mean, you did attack the guy, there’s no doubt about it.” Hal chided.

  “I used necessary force to keep him from escaping.” Griffin affirmed.

  Hal sighed, knowing the uphill battle of the conversation he was having. “If we don’t settle, Griffin, that’ll be for the jury to decide. And they don’t love rich people, Grif, they never have and they never will.”

  Lorraine was crossing Empire State Plaza toward the Capitol building, unable to enjoy the warmth of the spring sun on her cheeks. Pigeons fluttered in unruly clusters, scattering as pedestrians walked through, ignoring them.

  “Missus Phoenix,” a voice behind her said, stopping her to turn and see Treena Torasco approaching, her stout body bouncing just a bit as she walked. “You’re early, as usual.”

 

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