by Cara Dee
This is it, though. I’m about to face the woman who has the gall to call me her daughter. Now.
“You ready, sweetheart?” Dean asks quietly.
“Are you ready, baby girl?” he whispers in my ear. I try not to gulp when I look into his library. A piano bench is placed in the middle of the room, and my cello is leaning against it, still in its case.
I nod and clench my thighs together. “I’m ready, Daddy.”
I nod, an arsenal of perfect moments ready to be used. “I’m ready, Dean.”
“Mr. Gauthier,” the man greets politely, and I definitely recognize his voice. He was anything but polite and formal yesterday. In fact, he was hilarious.
“Patrick.” Dean inclines his head. “I’d like you to meet Gemma Delaney—officially.” He smirks a smirky little smirk. “Sweetheart, this is Patrick Lee, my assistant.”
“Mr. Lee.” I shake his hand and smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“It’s Patrick, Ms. Delaney.” He grins, blue eyes kind and a little amused. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Gemma,” I correct.
“Is everyone here already?” Dean inquires.
Patrick nods and waves a hand in the direction of a door that reads Conference Room 1. “Yes—we’re just waiting for you.”
In an automatic response, I stiffen, knowing my mother is inside that room—a woman who resents me and regrets giving birth to me.
“I’ve got you, Gem,” Dean whispers in my ear; he can read me so well now. “Just let me lead, okay?”
“Just let me lead, baby girl.” He guides me over to the piano bench, and I sit down, straddling the end of it. A shiver runs through me as Daddy sits down right behind me, his inner thighs touching my outer ones. Since we’re both completely naked, I can feel his body heat. “Have you decided on a song yet?” His words are soft, warm, and rich as he gathers my hair in his hands.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper and lean down to pull up my cello from its case. The ebony endpin digs into the thick carpet, and the cool, glossy wood of the neck rests against my shoulder. “‘Nothing Else Matters.’”
Several times, I’ve been offered schooling at prestigious music academies, mostly in Europe, but it was never for me. I want metal, a heavy beat, and thunder. Not Haydn or Bach.
“Excellent choice.” Daddy drops soft kisses along my neck. When I look down slightly, I can see that he’s holding my bow. But he told me to let him lead, so I don’t ask for it.
Blowing out a breath, I move my hands up to the pegbox instead. My fingers tremble slightly as I tune the strings, and even more so when Daddy scoots closer and I feel his hard cock resting between us.
“Here you go.” He gives me the bow, and I grasp it to make sure my tuning is enough. Daddy hums when I slide the bow across the strings, his mouth still attached to my neck. Then his hands join, too, slowly sliding up my sides until they cup my tits. “Now, give Daddy a performance. It’s been too long since I heard you play.”
“Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” Dean mutters wryly.
With his hand on my back, he guides me into the conference room, and I force myself to remain calm when I see Tina on one side of the long table. She’s not alone. Our family lawyer and our publicist are present, as well. At least the first one is nice. When I was…well, less than responsible, he bailed me out of lots of trouble.
“Ms. Delaney,” he greets kindly.
“Hello, Peter,” I respond quietly and sit down.
Dean follows and takes his seat next to me. A woman he introduces as the company publicist is next, then a woman and a man who are his lawyers, and lastly, Patrick at the end.
My knee bounces slightly, and Dean reaches his hand under the table and stills me. Though, his hand doesn’t leave.
I’m grateful.
While I assiduously ignore the two icy stares Tina and the Delaney publicist are sending Dean, I notice that a light buffet has been set up in the center of the table. Salads, sandwiches, fruit cups, bread, cheese, soft drinks, and water. The sight actually makes my stomach rumble a little, though I doubt I can keep anything down. I’m too nervous for that.
“We haven’t eaten since breakfast.” Dean speaks for only me to hear. He’s the picture of calm, cool, and collected. In here, he is a businessman, and he seems to have no difficulty picking out a turkey salad, a sandwich, and a soda. “You should eat something, too.”
“Do you know what I want to do, baby girl?” Daddy murmurs huskily as I play the beginning of “Nothing Else Matters.” It takes all my willpower not to throw the cello to the side, turn around, and devour him. I can’t help but whimper when he pinches my nipples. “Christ, I just want to eat that pretty little pussy of yours.”
My cheeks redden, my chest flushes, my insides ignite.
Knowing the song by heart, I tilt back my head and rest it on Daddy’s shoulder. Meanwhile, the carbon fiber bow slides over the strings, my grip tightening to maintain the little ounce of control I have left.
“I can smell you, you know.” He nuzzles my neck and lets his left hand skim down my side again. “You’re wet for Daddy.” A whispered statement. He’s so sure of himself, yet anything but arrogant.
“Touch me, please,” I breathe out.
I feel his lips curving into a smile before he kisses the spot below my ear.
Then he cups my pussy firmly in his hand.
Grimacing a little, I lean forward and grab a fruit cup, a water, and a small fork. That’s all I can muster, despite the hunger I feel. Then I lean back in my seat again, reveling in the comfort Dean’s large hoodie brings me. It feels like a shield.
“Well, now that we’re all here…” Peter stands up, straightens his tie, and takes care of introductions. Janice Smith, our family’s publicist. On Dean’s side—and mine, I suppose—Maria Mendez, the Gauthier Hotels publicist. And George and Judy Holding, lawyers. With that out of the way, Peter goes on. “Speaking for the Delaneys, I’d like to make sure this doesn’t get ugly.” He glances from me to Tina.
“And,” Ms. Mendez interrupts, “speaking for Gauthier Hotels, I want this settled quickly.”
Hell, for all our sakes, I want this settled quickly.
“I refuse to let this get swept under the rug,” Tina snaps. “Dean—” she turns her glare in his direction “—I deserve to know the fucking truth. Be a man and tell me.” She stabs the table with a perfectly manicured fingernail.
I almost feel the need to hold my breath. How did I waste so much time missing her? She’s a stranger to me. I remember when I hit my later teens, and I gained more awareness and understanding of what she’d gone through. I accept it. I understand and know what it’s like to be young and so damn sure of what you want, only to reconsider later on. There was a lot of pressure put on her. But I didn’t fucking deserve the way she shunned me.
Dean, calm as ever, faces Tina. He doesn’t look impassive or cold or upset or even arrogant. Plain calm. “I don’t know what it is you want me to say, Tina. I can admit you and I should’ve had a discussion before I happened to move on, but the concept of discussion doesn’t appear to be something you can grasp. You scream and throw things if you don’t get your way, so you leave me no choice but to fall back on a technicality: before I left for Utah, I made it clear we were over—”
“We were fighting,” Tina argues. “People say things they don’t mean—”
It’s Dean’s turn to interrupt. “Hence the technicality, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t sincere.”
“You broke my heart!” Tina spits out, and Janice pats her arm. God, they’re both so fake. “I’m in shreds!”
Dean gives her an impatient glance. “I won’t air out our past here, but Christ…” He shakes his head. “You know what? Never mind. Tell me what you’re after so we can start negotiating.”
“I don’t want to look like a fool—is that so wrong?” Tina shoots him an incredulous look. “Because as it stands now, I will be the old hag you left for a young
plaything, one who is my daughter!”
“You can’t even look at me,” I hear myself saying. The whole room falls silent, and I feel everyone’s eyes on me. Crap. I swallow hard and focus on Dean’s hand on my leg. “You’re very hung up on the fact that I’m your daughter, yet you haven’t cared since I was in third grade. You gave me up for adoption to your own aunt, for goodness’ sake. What the fuck gives you the right to call me your daughter now?”
No. She’s using that word because it’s how the public will see it. Not her.
Dean gives me a gentle squeeze under the table, and Tina looks away from me.
Peter clears his throat. “So, in the interest of moving past this swiftly and without any scandals—”
“I told myself I wouldn’t do this, but…” Dean pushes back his chair, looking pissed off. “Tina, can I have a moment alone with you, please?”
My stomach tightens. I’m no longer nervous. There’s no such thing as drawing forth memories of perfect moments. I’m downright terrified Tina will manage to manipulate Dean, which I’m sure isn’t fair of me. Fucking excuse me for having a few fears and insecurities.
Chapter 14
Dean Gauthier
Against my better judgment, I end up in my office with Tina—alone.
I didn’t want this, but damn if I will allow her to spit any more venom with Gem in the room.
“You can drop the act now.” I lean back to half sit on my desk, and I grip the edge in a feeble attempt to withhold my anger. “No publicists or lawyers around. This is me. You don’t give a rat’s ass about Gem as a person—”
“Gem.” She mocks the nickname and begins to pace the floor. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.” Coming to a halt, she glares over at me. “Do you know what this will do to my reputation? My career? Everyone will talk about this, Dean!”
Right. That’s the focus. Her reputation. Her ego has taken a severe hit, not her heart. She can’t fool me about her career, either. Despite her horrifying diva antics, she’s a rather decent actress on screen, and agents won’t care one bit. This is not something that will get in the way of her signing on to do films.
I stare at her blankly. “Are you quite finished?”
“You’re fucking impossible!” she cries out in fury. In the past, this was how she riled me up. She wants to fight. She loves drama. I won’t get sucked into her petty bullshit this time. “Answer me this, Dean. Why her? What does Gemma have that I don’t?”
Compassion, a fucking heart, her humanity, brains, beauty…the list could go on forever.
“Everything,” I answer eventually, and I ignore her gasp and expression of disgust and shock. “Now—” I check my watch “—tell me what you want.”
“Oh my God, you love her, don’t you?” she accuses.
I don’t respond, even though it’s true. I don’t owe Tina an explanation. That’s between my Gem and me.
“You know she’s only fucking you to get back at me, right?” Tina states arrogantly. I sigh internally, sick of her games. “She’s jealous—”
“She has nothing to be jealous of,” I state flatly. “Move on, Tina. Tell me what the fuck it is you’re after so we can get this over with.”
Realizing that I’m not buying her crap, she lets out a noise of frustration and glares at the floor for a moment. Hands on her hips, foot tapping.
“I want the house—”
“Nice try.” I don’t miss a beat. We’re not married, and I paid for that five-million-dollar monstrosity. She’s not getting a cent from me. “You can have exactly what you paid for,” I tell her. “What I want to know is which route you want us to take when it comes to the media.”
She looks as if she’s a second away from blowing a fuse.
I won’t cave on this one. My anger has even fizzled, leaving me tired, detached, and ready for this to be over.
“Fine,” she grits out. “I want you and that…girl…to disappear. Get out of LA—away from the cameras.” That’s the plan anyway. “I want the rumors of cheating to die.” Her expression shows how livid she is. “I won’t be fucking cheated on, Dean. So…I want the statements to say I’d already broken up with you. I ended our engagement before you took off to Utah.”
I rub my chin, eyes downcast, and ponder what she’s said. What Gem and I want is to move on—as quickly as humanly possible—and this might be the way. Tina gets her chance to save face, although I know Hollywood well enough to know that the rumors of cheating still won’t die. At least, not right away. Plus, the pictures of Gemma and me are already out there—before any rumors of Tina’s and my separation. But if this is what she wants…
My publicist will definitely agree, I muse internally.
“All right.” I nod firmly and wave a hand to the door. “Let’s go hammer out the details.”
“Before that—” she holds up a finger “—there’s one thing I want to know.”
I nod for her to continue.
She releases a breath. “Are you at least sorry?”
A bit taken aback by her question, I lean against the desk again and choose my words carefully. “I…” I look at Tina, seeing who she’s become, and I think of Gem, of the little person she used to be, the rebellious teenager she recently left behind, and the extraordinary young woman she is now. “I’m very sorry you can’t see past your own problems. Gemma never demanded anything from you but a bit of your time and energy. She didn’t want to take away your fame or your status, yet you’ve treated her like a threat.” I’ll be right by my girl’s side as she blossoms and continues to make her dreams come true. Dreams I happen to share now. “You view everything as a competition, Tina. It’s a shame. But, the spotlight is yours. We have no interest in it.”
Ignoring Tina’s glare, I walk past her and open the door.
“Let’s get this over with once and for all,” I say.
*
A couple of hours later, we’re all ready to leave. As predicted, my publicist is very pleased, and so is the rep for the Delaney family.
Since we’re all leaving at once, I usher Gem into my private elevator, and Patrick tells me Jimmy is waiting for us in the garage.
“I’m taking the next few days off,” I tell Patrick. “Let me know the flight details for Hawaii, and we’ll see you at the airport.”
He gives me a two-finger salute. “See you there, sir.”
Once the doors have slid closed, I pull Gemma close to me and sigh in relief.
It’s over.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” I murmur.
“Yeah.” The relief in her voice makes me smile, albeit tiredly. “Now I can finally play out the perfect moment you told me to distract myself with.”
I chuckle quietly. “Is that a fact? Do you want to tell me what moment you were thinking of?”
She grins impishly, her telltale blush coloring her cheeks. “That time I played for you in the library.”
Oh, hell. I groan internally and tilt her face up for a kiss. “Perfect moment, indeed.” I’d told myself before our playtime that I’d keep it somewhat innocent for at least a few songs, yet halfway into the second one, I lost it and ended up fucking her on the floor. “When I’m done with my errands today, I think we should create a new perfect memory.”
“Yay.” Gem hides a little squeal behind her hand.
“Too adorable for words.” I kiss her forehead.
I need to give my parents a call, too. It’s only a matter of time before they hear about all this, if they haven’t already. I’m not too worried. Firstly, they’re not very fond of Tina’s behavior and need for attention. Secondly, my mother is fifteen years younger than my father, so there’s no way they can complain about our age difference.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Can I ask Nina to come visit us in Hawaii?”
I smile. “Of course. Anything you want.” While I’ll definitely make time to pamper Gemma in Hawaii, I will still be in and out of meetings most days
. If she has a friend there, I hope she won’t feel as lonely.
Perhaps I can ask my brother and his wife to visit us, too. They could use a vacation, and our bungalow will certainly be big enough for a few guests every now and then. It’s been a while since I saw my nephew, too.
That thought fills me with a generous dose of warmth. Everyone in my family lives on the East Coast these days, and I don’t see them as often as I’d like. I want that to change. Bringing Gem along and growing closer to those who actually care will be good for us.
“In moments like these, I remember why I live in LA.” The sun is about to set over the ocean, and we’ve been sharing a lounger on my suite’s balcony for the past couple of hours in an attempt at recovering from today. We sort of just collapsed here after everything was said and done. Bags are in the bedroom, the cart room service wheeled in is deserted in the living room, and the ice is melting in the bucket on the floor next to us. Not even the traffic seven flights below bothers me. It’s background noise. I hug Gem to me, and she purrs like a kitten and stretches lazily.
We did shower first, and I had the most ambitious plan for us. I suggested we take a walk along the promenade and find a restaurant… Then Gem stepped out here on the terrace, and she patted the soft cushion that covers the lounger. Bit her lip, lifted a brow in question—and I was sold.
“In moments like these, I remember why I miss LA,” she murmurs sleepily.
I smile into the kiss I drop in her hair, and she stretches some more. At this point, she’s sprawled on top of me, and the towel from her shower has come loose, now draped over her like a tiny blanket.
“Still can’t wait to leave, though,” she adds with a wry quirk of her lips.
I hum, agreeing with her. “Do you want something more to eat?” We’ve only snacked on the dishes I ordered. Sushi, some delicious shrimp skewers, chips and guacamole, and French fries with too much ketchup for the little one.
