by Ella Brooke
But the stark, inarguable truth was that she was his daughter. He had the right to see her, at the very least.
“All right,” I agreed at last. “But I want to meet with you in the park. Jacob—well, he doesn’t have the slightest idea what happened between the two of us that night, and he doesn’t know she’s your daughter. I’m not quite sure what would happen if he found out. He hates you.”
He flinched, so slightly that I almost missed it. “All right. The park’s fine.”
***
Hunter
I was going to meet my daughter.
I’d never really thought of myself as the parental type. Sure, my father had expected me to marry well and produce handsome children, and I’d planned on acceding to that eventually. But the idea of a wife and children had always been set in some vague, misty future I couldn’t see clearly. I’d never once thought seriously about settling down, let alone impregnating a woman and having her bear my child.
But through an accident of fate, I was a father.
And I was fucking thrilled about it.
As I sat on an iron bench in the deserted park that afternoon, waiting for Char to arrive with her little girl—no, our little girl—in tow, I could feel my heart racing. I’d only heard her voice once, but already I was absolutely sure I wanted to be a real father to the little girl we’d made together. I wanted Char to trust me enough to let me into their lives.
But for that to happen, I’d have to convince Char that I wasn’t the bad boy she remembered or the felon that everyone knew had stolen from his own father. I’d need to be more than Hunter Kensington, ex-convict.
I needed what every respectable member of society needed. I needed a job.
Cold winter sunlight shone down on me from a crystal-clear, cerulean sky, and a chilly breeze blew around the snow that remained on the ground, lifting snowflakes and spinning them like toys as I sat and plotted my next move. It would be almost impossible for me to obtain any sort of decent job outside the family. Not only was I a felon, but thanks to the stories that had been written about my crime nationwide, I was known throughout the country as a hard-drinking, motorcycle-riding bad boy. No one was going to hire me.
In order to convince Char I’d reformed, my first step would have to be somehow obtaining a position, any position, in Kensington Media. And if that meant crawling on my hands and knees to Au—well, I’d do it. The thought made me want to vomit, but I’d do it for the sake of my child.
But I didn’t want to think about that now. I shoved my worries aside with surprisingly little effort. Despite everything, I was happy. It might be a cold February day, but the sun was shining brightly, and it echoed my mood perfectly.
I was going to meet my daughter, and all was right with the world.
***
Charlotte
“Hi there. My name is Hunter.”
I couldn’t help smiling as Hunter leaned down from his relatively great height and very solemnly offered his hand to Diana. She put her tiny hand into his, and they gravely shook hands like two business moguls meeting for the first time.
“Hi.” Ordinarily Diana was shy on first acquaintance, but apparently Hunter had a way with children, because she seemed quite willing to talk to him. “I like the park.”
Her words were as blurrily unclear as any two-year-old’s, but he managed to understand her. “Me too.”
“It’s empty today. There’s no one here.”
Hunter grinned down at her, probably amused by her pronunciation of “empty,” which sounded like “empy”. “That’s because it’s cold.”
“I have a coat.” She pointed to the pink coat I’d gotten her at Wal-Mart.
“Your coat is very pretty. I like the color.”
She looked around again, confirming the lack of playmates her own age, and looked back up at him, apparently deciding he’d do in a pinch. “Want to go down the slide with me?”
Hunter uttered a soft laugh. “Sure.”
Within moments the two of them were chasing each other around the snowy park, playing some complicated game of tag which Diana kept winning, mostly because Hunter was very clearly letting her win, while I elected to sit on a bench and watch. The park was only a small open space with swings and a slide, surrounded by evergreen bushes, and beyond that a larger wooded area where there was a path joggers liked to use. But today, thanks to the cold and the remaining layer of snow on the ground, no one was there except us. The park was as silent and empty as I’d ever seen it.
But it didn’t stay silent for long. Soon Diana was screeching with laughter, and Hunter’s mouth was open in a delighted grin I’d never seen on him before. Even as a teenager, he’d worn a perpetual scowl. But this expression washed all the cares from his face and made him look younger, carefree, happy.
It made him look beautiful.
He was so gorgeous that my heart stuttered in my chest. A slow-rising warmth began to fill me, along with a sensation of complete and utter adoration I hadn’t felt since my adolescence. I tried to will the feeling away, but I couldn’t.
I still love Hunter Kensington, I realized. I’d been infatuated with him as a child, but I’d fallen in love with him on that night in the alley behind Zippo’s. And despite everything that had happened, I’d never been able to stop loving him. And seeing him so happy—well, it was like the sun shining brightly in the bleakest part of winter. Unexpected, but wonderful.
At last Hunter staggered back to the bench and sat down next to me heavily.
“She’s like a perpetual motion machine,” he marveled, watching Diana dash around the playground by herself.
“Two-year-olds never stop until it’s time for a nap. They’re incredibly tiring.”
“They certainly are.” He watched her a while longer, and I tried to see her through his eyes—a small, perfect human blessed with inexhaustible energy, her hair dark like his, but with coppery highlights like mine. As she left babyhood behind, the Kensington features were beginning to emerge on her face—the firm chin, the arched eyebrows, the full lips were all miniature versions of Hunter’s. She was, I thought, a pretty child, even allowing for motherly bias. The soft look in his eyes as he watched her made me certain he thought so too.
“What’s her name?” he asked at last.
I cleared my throat. “Diana.”
I watched his face as he slowly processed that. “After the Roman goddess?”
I nodded.
“Oh.” He looked down at me, and an expression almost of wonder crossed his face. “I see. The goddess of the hunt. You…you named her for me.”
“Yes.” I met his eyes squarely. “Because even after everything that’s happened…I wanted to remember that she was yours, Hunter. I couldn’t let myself pretend that night never happened. I just couldn’t.”
He looked at me for a long moment, his face strangely intent, and for an instant I thought he might lower his dark head to kiss me. But then he looked back at Diana, and his expression lightened. It seemed almost a conscious effort, as if he were deliberately trying to keep things casual between the two of us for now.
“Why don’t we get some hot cocoa?” he suggested.
We spent the rest of the afternoon sipping cocoas from the coffeehouse near the park and feeding the ducks paddling around in the partly-frozen-over pond. Diana squealed happily at the way their tails flicked from side to side, and had to be restrained repeatedly from trying to grab them. I saw Hunter smiling his wide, genuine smile more than once, and every time it made my heart pound in my chest.
I remembered my earlier realization: I still love Hunter Kensington.
And as we spent more time together, I discovered that I was falling deeper and deeper in love with him by the moment.
Chapter Seven
Hunter
“I need a job.”
I stood in the book-lined library in front of my father’s old mahogany desk, head bowed, just as I’d stood before it many times in my childhood and stormy a
dolescence. Only this time it wasn’t my father staring at me from the other side of the desk. It was my younger brother.
But it was strange how much of my father I saw in my brother’s coolly assessing brown eyes and sardonically curved mouth. Maybe, I thought, that was why Austin and I had never gotten along well. Maybe there was just too much of my father in him.
Au looked at me, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. The corner of his mouth lifted in that patronizing smirk I hated.
“No shouting at me to vacate your chair today?” he inquired, his voice smooth and bland. Despite his carefully cultured tones, I still had the sense that he was jeering snidely at me, and I felt myself bristle. But I kept my head down. It pained me to admit it, but I wasn’t the alpha male in this situation. I wasn’t in charge here. Au was.
“No,” I answered. “As I said, I need a job.”
“And I told you already, Hunter, that the board of directors—“
“I’m not asking to be the CEO,” I blurted. “Not even a middle manager. I’ll take any position, Au, no matter how menial. I just…I really need a job.”
He tilted his head to one side, studying me. “How interesting,” he said thoughtfully. “Now why would you need a job precisely? Have you forgotten you’re a billionaire in your own right? You don’t need to work at McDonald’s to pay your bills, you know.”
“I know. I just…” I blew out a heavy breath. I couldn’t explain that I needed to prove myself to Char, to make her see I wasn’t just a spoiled rich kid anymore. That I wanted to work, to strive, in order to make myself a better man for her and for Diana. “I want to make something of myself, damn it. That’s all.”
“Indeed. And what could possibly compel the bad boy of Pinecone to want to change?”
He was openly mocking me now, and I really wanted to reach down, grab him by his silk Hermes tie, drag him to his feet, then punch him in the jaw. But he’d made it clear enough in our last conversation that any more violent behavior from me would lead to me being in jail again. I didn’t doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to press charges. After all, knowing what I did about him, I was a risk to him right now, and he’d probably be safer with me in prison.
The fact that my own brother wouldn’t hesitate to throw me in jail a second time made my heart ache, but I ignored the pain and answered as calmly as I could.
“I guess prison changed me.”
“Prison? Oh, really? Is that all?”
It was clear that he was jabbing at me in an attempt to find the chinks in my armor, so I refused to let him see any. I knew I couldn’t keep my daughter a secret forever, but I wasn’t ready to tell him about Diana just yet, especially since I suspected he wouldn’t hesitate to use her as a weapon against me.
“That’s all,” I said stubbornly.
“Hmmm.” He rested his chin on his steepled fingers and frowned in thought, as if thinking long and hard about my problem. “I suppose we could find you a position in the mail room, big brother. Would you like that?”
The thought filled me with rage, but I fought to not let it reflect in my eyes. Even so, I could hear my father’s voice inside my head, just as clearly as if he were in the room with us.
A Kensington, working such a lowly position? A Kensington would rather die first!
I silenced the voice and answered steadily. “I told you already, Au. I’ll gladly take any job you can give me.”
He nodded at me, as if I’d passed some sort of test. “All right, Hunter. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” The words stuck in my throat, but I managed to spit them out anyway. I turned toward the door, but Austin’s voice stopped me.
“Oh, by the way, have you seen the papers today?”
He held out a copy of the Pinecone Gazette. It had been Kensington Media’s first media holding long ago, and it was your basic small town newspaper—two pages of local news, and a few more pages of high school sports events and the like, studded heavily with ads for local businesses. It was not the sort of newspaper I ordinarily troubled myself to read—it was as far from the New York Times or the Washington Post as you could get.
I took it from him, mildly curious, and glanced down at it.
My blood froze to ice.
Because there, on the front page, were numerous pictures of myself, Char, and Diana feeding the ducks together. And all those photos were arrayed beneath a massive headline: “SECRET BABY?”
Au looked up at me, his mouth curving in that hateful smirk. “It really seems as if there is something you haven’t been telling me. Tell me, Hunter. Is this truly your child?”
I didn’t bother to answer. I stared down at the photos, feeling the world cracking open beneath my feet.
Oh, my God, I thought. Char is going to kill me.
If Jacob doesn’t do it first.
***
Charlotte
“What the hell is this?”
I had just placed a plate of fried eggs and bacon in front of one of my regulars when I heard an angry male voice. Oh, no, not again, I thought. But when I looked around, I saw not Hunter but Jacob bearing down on me, furiously waving a newspaper in his hand.
I had no idea why he was waving it at me since my mornings were always hectic. Getting Diana ready for preschool and making myself decent was all I had time for. Anyway, who read papers anymore? In the rare moments I had to catch up with current events and mourn my lost dreams of a journalism career, I used my phone to surf the web just like everyone else. Papers were so last century.
But there was Jacob, waving what appeared to be the Pinecone Gazette of all things, and looking absolutely enraged about it. I sent an apologetic glance at Howie—sorry about all the angry men in my life—and went toward Jacob in an attempt to steer him out of doors.
He planted his feet stubbornly, standing right in the middle of the diner, and thrust the newspaper at me. “Tell me this isn’t true.”
I took it, bewildered, and looked down at the headline. The enormous words “SECRET BABY?” hit me like a hammer, taking my breath away, and the photos of the three of us spending time at the park drove the remaining oxygen from my lungs. I’d thought that park was completely empty, but someone had been watching us. Someone had been lurking behind the bushes and taking photos. Someone had been stalking me.
Again.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. I couldn’t lie to Jacob, not after everything he’d done for me, everything he’d sacrificed to help me. Anyway, now that he’d seen this, he’d know it was true just by looking into Diana’s face. The Kensington features were stamped there in miniature, after all. “It’s true.”
“You and Hunter—the two of you—“ He seemed to realize he was spluttering and got control of his voice. “How could you, Char?”
“Could we possibly not talk about this in my workplace?”
He lowered his voice slightly. “The man is a felon, Char. And what he did—back in high school—if you knew what he’d done—“
“I slept with him before he was a felon,” I retorted.
“But you’re spending time with him now, aren’t you? I mean, look at these photos. The two of you, having fun together—with Diana—ugh. I swear I’m going to kill him.”
I caught the dark blue sleeve of his parka. “You are not, Jacob. Look, promise me you won’t do anything stupid. The two of us were talking. That’s all. He has a right to know about Diana, and I couldn’t keep him from finding out anyway. He was bound to figure it out sooner or later.”
“Just talking,” he said scornfully, looking down at the photos of us laughing together. “Sure.”
“Honestly, I’m not getting back together with him, Jacob. Not that we were ever together in the first place really. It was just a one-night—“
“You don’t have to tell me what kind of man he is,” he cut in, holding up his hand to stop me. “I already know, Char. Trust me. I know.”
I thought maybe now that Jacob had gotten some of the rage and betrayal
out of his system, he might leave quietly, but unfortunately the door swung open again at that moment, letting in a cold blast of air…and Hunter Kensington.
Jacob spun around furiously, yanking his arm away from my restraining hand. “I knew it!” His voice rose to an angry pitch, and everyone in the diner who wasn’t already staring at us lifted their heads from their breakfasts and looked at the unfolding drama. Nothing ever happened in Pinecone—at least nothing of significance had happened since Hunter’s arrest—and now here was Hunter, once again at the center of a very salacious situation. “The two of you have been seeing one another!”
He strode toward Hunter, murder in his eyes. I tried to hold him back by his hood, but he broke loose and lifted his arm, clearly about to throw a punch. Hunter didn’t flinch, didn’t lift a hand to defend himself, just stood there waiting for the blow to fall.
All at once Howie was shouldering his way in between them. Good old Howie. He was a massive guy, even if he wasn’t in the best physical shape anymore, and he caught Jacob’s fist in his big, callused hands and wrenched it down easily.
“There won’t be any fistfights here, gentlemen,” he informed them, shoving the two of them apart. “Get the hell out of my diner, the both of you, or I’ll call the cops.”
Hunter’s gaze shifted to me, and I looked back at him, answering his unspoken query with my eyes: We’ll talk later. He nodded slightly, then turned toward the door and disappeared out into the bleak February day. Jacob glanced back at me, then growled audibly and left as well.
I stood there shaking. Howie approached me and laid a sympathetic hand on my arm.
“You need to get the drama in your life ironed out,” he said not unkindly. “I can’t have angry young men coming into my diner and brawling over you. Bad for business, you know. Take the afternoon off and get your life straightened out, Char. And for God’s sake, keep the drama out of my diner from now on, all right?”
“All right,” I answered numbly. “I’ll try.”
