Pretty Broken Dreams: A Pretty Broken Standalone Novel

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Pretty Broken Dreams: A Pretty Broken Standalone Novel Page 15

by Jeana E. Mann


  Spots swim in front of my eyes. My lungs burn. I draw in a breath and the anxiety eases a little. “Lisle’s six, and Gaston will be twelve in January.”

  Silence roars through the room. Cam swallows. Behind the blue of his eyes, his sharp mind calculates the months between our last encounter and Gaston’s birth. The long muscles of his throat constrict. I hate myself for what I’ve done to him. This is my punishment, to watch his pain.

  “He looks like me.” His voice is rasping, raw with emotion. I nod, unable to speak. His fingers tremble as he traces the shape of Gaston’s face. “You kept this from me? My son?”

  “After—after us, I went to Paris for a break, to get my head together. When I found out I was pregnant, I lost it.” Tears blur my vision. I swipe them away with the back of my hand. “The thought of raising a baby was too much for me to handle. Giles helped me get back on track. I owe him a lot.”

  “I would have helped you.” Anger vibrates beneath the calm of his exterior. “You should have told me. I had a right to know.”

  “Yes. You did. And I’m sorry for keeping it from you.” My insides began to quake so violently I’m not sure if I can remain sitting. I grip the armrest with desperate fingers. “Be honest, Cam. Were you ready to raise a child? How could I be sure you wanted me and not my money? After I saw my name in that book, I couldn’t be sure.”

  His chest rises and falls with each deep breath, but his gaze remains frozen on Gaston’s picture.

  Chapter 32

  Cam - Today

  THE BOY’S FACE floats in front of me. I blink once—twice—unable to believe what I’m seeing. I have a child, a son who looks just like me. Same dark curly hair, intense blue eyes, and straight nose. I stare until my eyes burn, but I can’t look away.

  My son.

  “Does he know?” I don’t recognize the voice speaking, but it’s mine.

  “Not yet.” Vanessa’s face is pale, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “He’s very smart, at the top of his class. It’s just a matter of time before he suspects.”

  “Why now?” My mind can’t wrap around this revelation. “Is this a ploy to make me stay in Seaforth Media? Do you want money?” In my experience, people are motivated by only two things: sex and money. We’ve already had sex—mind-blowing, marathon sex, so it must be the latter.

  She yanks the picture from my hands. “I don’t want anything from you. You don’t have to be involved in his life. I just want to make things right.” Her shoulders droop as she smooths a hand over the photograph. “Being with you last night reminded me of how good we were together, of what you meant to me. We did an incredible thing, Cam. We made a baby.” The tip of her tongue swipes along the curve of her lower lip. “What you do with the information is your decision.”

  The enormity of the situation is too much. I stand and pace the length of the room a few times. Vanessa sits on the sofa, still in my dress shirt, watching me with round eyes. Her hair spills around her shoulders in wild disarray, tangled by our lovemaking. Part of me wants to crush her in my arms; the rest of me wants to shake her until her teeth rattle. How could she do something like this?

  I shove both hands through my hair. The ends fall to my shoulders. I need a haircut but don’t have the time. Near the fireplace, I pause then turn to stare at Vanessa. She folds her hands in her lap, face pale with worry. Without makeup, she looks much younger, like the girl I knew and loved.

  “I didn’t have to tell you,” she says. “We can have a paternity test, if you want.”

  “Why? He looks just like me,” I say, feeling the stir of anger again.

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Her voice rises. She gets to her feet. “I’ve had to look at him every day for the last eleven years and see your face. Even if I wanted to forget you, I couldn’t because you’ve been with me the whole time.”

  “You’ve had him for eleven years, and I’ve had—nothing.” The waste of time burns in my gut. I’ve missed everything: first steps, first words, teaching him how to throw a ball, his smiles. Until this moment, I had no idea how much those things mattered to me. My father was a stranger to me. I don’t want my son to share the same fate.

  “I can’t give you back the past, but I can give you the future.” She extends the iPad. “I have all of his pictures on here. I know it isn’t the same, but…”

  The sense of loss is too overwhelming. I can’t look at her without wanting to fly into a rage or break something. I’ve lost so many people in my life, been betrayed by the people who should have protected me, and this is just one more event to add to the list. Long forgotten insecurities pop to the surface, shattering my confidence. Suddenly and without warning, I’m back where I started, the boy from the wrong side of the tracks, the murderer’s son, the half-breed.

  “I think you should go.”

  “Okay.” Her gaze falls to the floor, her voice soft with disappointment. “I understand.” She gathers the photo and iPad, tucking them under her arm, then walks to the door. With one hand on the doorknob, she speaks without turning around. “You’re not a bad person, Cam. And this isn’t your fault.”

  Once she’s gone, I don’t know whether to drink myself into a stupor or go for a marathon run. I opt for the later, using the avenues of the city to work away my frustration. My feet pound on the pavement, block after block, street after street. The sidewalks are empty, storefronts still closed. I run until my lungs ache and my muscles scream for mercy. When I can’t run any longer, I return to the hotel, shower then head to the office. It’s the only place where I feel safe, where I’m completely in control.

  ***

  I move out of the hotel and into my unfinished apartment. A week goes by without word from Vanessa. Tristan brings papers to my office detailing the dissolution of the Seaforth Media partnership. They sit unsigned on the corner of my desk. If I write my name on the dotted line, she’ll be out of my life for good and Gaston along with her. Reality sinks in when Sam Seaforth arrives unannounced a few minutes before lunch on the following Tuesday. I toy with the idea of sending him away but change my mind at the last minute.

  “Send him in,” I tell my assistant. “Hold all my calls until we’re through.” More than likely, this meeting will be brief and unpleasant. Once it’s over, I can dust my hands of the Seaforth clan. I steel my nerves for the upcoming attack. Sam and I have butted heads on more than a few occasions. He’s a savvy businessman and a worthy opponent.

  He strides through the sliding glass doors, looking like he just stepped off the pages of GQ. His pretty boy good looks don’t fool me. I’ve seen him decimate stronger men than me in the boardroom without breaking a sweat. I stand and offer a hand in greeting. “Sam.”

  “Blackwood.” His eyes are green ice, his tone cool.

  “Have a seat.” I nod to the chair across from my desk. He unbuttons his jacket and takes a seat. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m here unofficially. We need to talk.” His jaw tightens, making me uneasy.

  “Really? What’s on your mind?” I force my features into ambivalence. A sense of foreboding sends a shiver up my back.

  “I talked to Vanessa this morning. She said she told you about Gaston.” His gaze locks onto mine. I stare back, unwilling to let him see how his words are affecting me.

  “We had a conversation,” I say cautiously.

  “I want to know your plans.”

  “Plans?” Jesus, this guy is intimidating. I stand and walk over to the bar. The room is suddenly too small for the both of us, and I need a drink. “Bourbon?”

  “I’ll take a Scotch, neat, if you have it.”

  The silence is broken only by the quiet splash of liquid into the glasses. I take my time, using the interlude to formulate a defense against whatever attack Seaforth has planned. When I hand him his drink, he swirls the amber liquid then sets the glass on the desk.

  “Believe it or not, Seaforth. I don’t have an agenda where Gaston is concerned.”

  “L
eave them alone, Cam.” Sam straightens in his chair, leaning forward to meet my gaze. “Take Seaforth Media. I’ll make sure Vanessa gives you whatever you want, just stay away.”

  Here is my opportunity to walk out. I can be free of the responsibility. To my surprise, however, the thought makes my guts clench. I can’t abandon my flesh and blood. My father walked out on his family. Vanessa’s words echo in my head. You can choose to be a better man. With a few exceptions, I’ve tried to live by that advice since she left me.

  I draw in a deep breath. “No, I don’t think so.”

  Chapter 33

  Vanessa - Today

  ONE WEEK BLURS into the next. Someone new moves into Cam’s hotel room across the hall. I can’t stop thinking about him, reliving each touch of his lips and hands, rolling his confessions over and over in my head. I hear nothing from him. Even social media is devoid of Cameron Blackwood sightings. It’s as if he’s vanished into thin air.

  Like my personal life, my professional life is in the toilet. The value of Seaforth Industries stock continues to dive and hits an unprecedented low as rumors of Cam’s departure from Seaforth Media swirl through the business world. Sam sets up a meeting with the shareholders. They’ve expressed concerns about my competence. I square my shoulders and prepare to grovel. This is all I have, my work and my kids. I won’t be a failure.

  Outside the boardroom on the day of the meeting, I wipe sweaty palms on the skirt of my dress.

  Sam pats my shoulder, but I can tell by the line across his forehead that he’s concerned. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine, no matter what happens,” he says.

  “Easy for you to say. You’ve got your own company. If I fail at this, I’ll never get another job.” My trust fund dried up years ago, and I only received a paltry sum in the divorce settlement. I want my children to have a future at Seaforth Industries like their family before them.

  “Ready?” Elena smiles and opens the boardroom doors.

  The hum of conversation halts. Twenty somber faces stare at us. I clear my throat. Now I know how it feels to walk in front of a firing squad. I take my seat at the head of the table. I’m about to address the group when the door opens again. Cam walks into the room, tall and imposing, Tristan at his side. The walls of my chest constrict at the sight of him. His intense gaze meets mine.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he says, taking the seat next to me.

  “What are you doing here?” Sam asks. His eyes narrow.

  “You’re not the only one who has moles planted around the city,” Cam replies. He turns to address the table. “I’m here to dispel any rumors about the dissolution of my interests in Seaforth Media. I have the utmost confidence in Ms. Seaforth’s abilities. In fact, I’ve invested another two million dollars in facility upgrades just this week.”

  “You have?” The question pops out of my mouth before I can stop it.

  “Yes. Or I will before the day is up.” He nudges my elbow with his and leans in to whisper, “Just go along with it.”

  “Okay.” While I collect my composure, I take a sip of water.

  “You’re going to owe me for this, princess. Big time,” he says, turning to face the others.

  “I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.” I struggle to breathe through the frantic palpitations of my heart.

  “Let’s get together tomorrow and talk about it.”

  “Tomorrow is Saturday.” I clear my throat and shuffle the stack of papers in front of me, stalling. “I don’t work on Saturdays.”

  “This isn’t about work.” Cam’s thigh bumps mine beneath the table. I wait for him to shift away, but he doesn’t move. He clasps his hands in front of him, staring at me with a half smirk that does crazy things to my insides. “Dress casual. I’ll take you for a ride in my new car.”

  I bite my lower lip to control a giddy smile. “Let’s call this meeting to order.”

  An hour later, we’re standing together in my office—me, Cam, and Sam. The air is charged. I don’t know whether to kiss Cam or slap him. All I know is that I’m glad to see him.

  “Want to tell me what’s going on?” Sam asks, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

  “I’m in,” Cam says. His eyes lock with mine. A thrill courses all the way to my toes. I have a feeling he’s talking about more than business.

  “Remember what I said.” Sam’s words are a warning.

  “Don’t worry, Seaforth. My intentions are honorable,” Cam replies. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I need to talk to Vanessa about our son.”

  Sam looks from me to Cam and back to me again then shakes his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Vanessa.”

  “It’ll be fine,” I say, because I know in my heart it will.

  Chapter 34

  Vanessa - Today

  THE NEXT DAY, Cam arrives to pick me up outside the hotel. He gets out of his electric blue McLaren 650S and crosses to the passenger side to open the door for me. My belly does a triple flip at the sight of him. He’s wearing dark jeans, a Henley shirt with the sleeves pushed up, and a baseball cap, the brim pulled low over mirrored sunglasses. “Ready?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say, although nothing could have prepared me for the sight of him. I’m so nervous. My knees shake as I walk toward him.

  “You look amazing,” he says, bending to speak into my ear. His words vibrate through my body and between my legs.

  “Thanks.” Dakota helped me pick out the sundress. It’s comfortable and makes my waist look smaller than it is. “Nice car. I bet Tristan’s fit to be tied.”

  “He hasn’t seen it yet, but yeah.” Cam’s grin reveals his perfect teeth, white against his tanned skin, and the dimple on his left cheek.

  We’re off to his house in the country. The drive gives us time to get used to each other again. From the passenger seat, I admire his profile, the straight sweep of his nose, the square angle of his jaw. Every now and then, he gives me a sideways glance that I can feel in my deepest recesses.

  “So, you have an apartment in the city and a house in the country? I never took you for a farm boy,” I tease.

  “It’s quiet and peaceful and it’s a good place to get my head together.” Another sideways glance. My toes curl. “Like the Avondales’ farm. I always liked it there.”

  “I never went back.” I watch the scenery flash past the window, unable to look at him, afraid he’ll see my vulnerability. We’ve avoided talking about our breakup, sticking to more neutral subjects like sports and the weather.

  “There it is.” Cam points to a spot in the distance. “You can see the roof of the house through the trees.”

  Through tall pines and cedars, I catch a glimpse of a three-story contemporary home, edging an enormous man-made lake. A mid-day sun glints off the surface of the water. Tall oaks and black fence line the winding drive. Horse graze the fields and lift their heads to watch us pass.

  “You have horses?” I turn in my seat to face him.

  “These are retired racehorses and a few police horses, too.” One corner of his mouth turns up. “You’re not the only one with a heart, you know.”

  “I see that.” The more I get to know Cam, the more he surprises me. He’s generous to a fault, free with his money, and always thinking of ways to support those in need.

  “Look, we need to talk.” He eases the car to the side of the driveway and turns off the motor. “I want to tell you something before we get serious.”

  “Are we getting serious?” My heartrate doubles. He takes my hand, lifts it to his lips, and kisses my knuckles.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I hope so.” I wait while he walks around the car and opens my door. We lean against the fence. Cam stares across the pasture. “It’s about your mother.”

  A shiver of dread courses up my spine. I have a feeling I’m not going to like what he’s got to say. “Okay. Spill.”

  He’s silent for a long time. I fidget next to him, waiting for whatever he’s got to say, certain I won’t li
ke it. When he speaks, his voice is low and soft. “I knew your mother. We met after you and I split up.”

  I close my eyes, wishing he hadn’t said those words. When I open them, he’s watching me with fear etched on his face. “You said you didn’t sleep with her.”

  “It wasn’t like that.” He pauses. The muscles in his throat work as he swallows. “She was my friend.”

  He knew my mother, a woman I barely knew myself. While I struggle to process the concept, he tells me about their visits, how she struggled with her illness, and the money she left for him. I can’t look at him, so I watch a sway-backed chestnut gelding amble toward us.

  “Is there anything else you need to tell me?” I ask after a bit.

  “She suggested I use our friendship to ‘encourage’ your father to become a partner in my media company.” He leans his forearms on the fence. The gelding snuffles along his arm then nudges my fingers with his velvety nose. I stare at the white star between intelligent black eyes. The horse nuzzles me again, harder this time, almost knocking me back a step. “He decided to back my company to keep the scandal out of the tabloids. Whenever he got out of hand, I brought out the little black book.”

  “Is that how you got nominated for the CEO job?” The gelding bobs his head and snorts. I turn to Cam. “I’m impressed.”

  “Well, somebody had to keep the man in line.” He shrugs, still gazing across the distance, and pulls the small leather-bound book from his back pocket. “I’m giving it to you.”

  I stare at the worn cover, the tattered pages. He presses it into my hand. “I don’t understand.”

  “This is the last remnant of my past and symbolizes everything I don’t like about myself. I trust you, Vanessa. You can do whatever you want with it. Sell it, burn it, read it.” His blue eyes lock with mine. “A lot of people would pay big money for a peek inside there.”

  I rub my thumb over the leather. “I say we burn it.” A smile twitches my lips. “After I read it.” His laugh is unexpected and welcome. I fall in love with Cam again, right at this moment. He turns to face me, expression hopeful, and reminiscent of the twenty-year old guy I met on a hot summer afternoon so many years ago. I press a hand against his cheek. “What am I going to do with you?”

 

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