by Emily Bishop
I ignored her question because it was too painful to answer. “Sit down please, Demi.”
“I think I’d rather stand. What’s going on?”
The fearful look on her face nearly broke me, but I pushed on. I had to get through it.
“I’m buying you out of your contract,” I told her, fighting to keep my voice even.
“What?” Her eyes widened, then sparked with anger. “Why? I haven’t done anything to breach it.”
“I can terminate it anyway, which is what I’m doing. Only, I’m not terminating it and sending you on your way with nothing. I’m buying you out, which means you’ll be leaving with plenty of my money after all.”
“I never wanted your damn money,” she fumed. “I’m good at this job, Barrett, and you know it. So, tell me why.”
“Because I love you, Demi.” It was out before I could stop it.
Demi’s face crumpled. Tears jumped into her eyes as she started moving toward me.
“Barret, I lo—”
I held up my hands, stopping her in her tracks. “I don’t want to hear it, Demi. Look, I’m not doing this to get back at you. I can’t focus on my work, and I can’t even look at your pictures. I regret that I let things get this far, but I can’t take it back. I’m in too deep.”
A painful sigh wracked my chest as I looked into the enchanting eyes of the woman I loved. The woman who had been someone else all along. “I thought I knew you, Demi. But I clearly don’t. I can’t be with you, and since I have to be at the shoots… Look, please just accept my offer. Take the money and leave. I honestly can’t stand to see your picture forever tied to my company.”
It just hurt too damn much.
Chapter 24
Demi
Even though I hadn’t been back to my parents’ house since I left, being on my way back there still felt like I was going home. I hoped that it would give me at least some of the comfort I was desperate for. After crying all night again, I’d called by mother that morning and asked her if I could come home for the rest of the weekend.
She had agreed wholeheartedly, tearfully happy that I was finally coming home. When I rolled up, the old place looked exactly like I remembered it, a villa about an hour away from the city with water fountains everywhere and a lake out back. It rivaled Barrett’s in size and was more sprawling than his place.
I shut all thoughts of Barrett from my mind, digging my fingernails into my palms and taking a deep breath to collect myself before I knocked. Despite my best efforts, even that quick thought of him brought tears to my eyes.
Barrett had absolutely destroyed me. There was no other way to describe it. I felt like he had ripped me in half, both personally and professionally, and the loss was devastating. I was emotionally raw from the way everything had gone down. It felt like salt was being rubbed into the wounds every time that I allowed myself to think of him, which was pretty much all the time.
I couldn’t stand it. Barrett telling me he loved me played on a loop in my mind, as did the look of devastation and anguish on his features when I tried to go to him, to tell him that I loved him, too. Hot tears ran down my cheeks, and I doubled over, resting my elbows on my knees as I tried to compose myself.
Who tells someone that they love them, only to fire them? I mentally screamed at him as sobs racked my body. It was cruel and unusual torture, especially since it turned out that he was exactly the kind of jackass that I’d thought he was going into our relationship. He thought that offering me money was going to make it all better.
In the end, I walked around the grounds for a few minutes before I managed to calm myself down enough to knock on the door. My mother swung it open, beaming at me as she pulled me close for a tighter hug than I could remember ever getting from her.
“Demi, honey. It’s so good see you back here.” She sniffed, drawing out our hug as if she were scared I was going to leave if she let me go. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Yeah?” I asked, still speaking into the raven-colored locks I’d inherited from her. She smelled like her favorite coconut oil body lotion, the same kind she’d been using since I was a child. She might not have been much of a hands-on mom, but the scent was still one of the smells I associated with home.
“Your father’s home,” she told me with a wide smile on her face when she finally released me. “He was discharged last night.”
Some of my grief turned to joy, and a few of the knots in my stomach dissolved and turned to a hopeful feeling. “He’s home?”
“Yes, I wanted to give you a call, but it was late when we got him settled in, and then you phoned this morning,” my mom told me, leading me to what used to be a formal sitting room. It had been transformed into a sickroom for my father.
A hospital bed sat in the middle of the room, and machines were still linked to him but he was home. My dad and the nurse beside him both looked up when we entered.
“Demetria,” my father greeted me warmly. He had some color in his cheeks, and he seemed wide awake for the first time in weeks, though his voice was still weak and his frame small. “Come say hello to your old man.”
My father had been the only person who insisted on calling me by my full name. He said he would’ve named me Demi if that’s what he wanted to call me. I crossed the room to stand at his side. The first genuine smile I’d worn in more than a week curved my lips.
Taking one of his cool hands in mine, I gave it a squeeze and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Daddy, it’s so good to see you home.”
“I can say the same for you, my dear girl.” He raised a shaking hand to cup my cheek. “What’s wrong? You’ve been crying.”
I was stunned. My father had never asked me that question before, even if he had noticed that I’d been crying, which I also didn’t think had happened before. It made my heart both swell and break. “We can talk about it later, Daddy. How are you feeling?”
“Hanging in there,” he sighed, shooting an annoyed glance at the machines around him. “I just wish I could get off these things.”
“They’re not all permanently hooked up anymore, James,” my mother soothed, then looked at me. “The physical therapist said they will start walking slowly next week or so. He will only have to drag one of them around with him, then.”
“If he’s strong enough,” the nurse interjected.
My father released a frustrated groan. “You see what I have to deal with, Demetria?”
“It’s for the best, Daddy,” I told him. “Better this than lying in a hospital, right?”
“Absolutely.” My mother grinned. “At least here, I can make food that doesn’t taste like sawdust and manure.”
“You’re making food?” I asked her dubiously, laughing when she nodded. “I’m impressed that you haven’t set the house on fire yet.”
“Oh, hush,” my mom said, smiling. “There was a time when I did all the cooking for my family.”
“When you were a girl in Greece, right?” I asked, remembering some of the stories she’d told me when I was very young.
“Exactly, yes,” she said. “I can still remember some of my family recipes. If you’re staying the night, I’ll make you something tonight that will make you eat your words.”
“That sounds great, Mom. I’d love that.”
She beamed at me again, coming over to squeeze my hand as her eyes flicked adoringly between my father and me. “My little family, back together again. This is wonderful.”
“We’re happy to finally have you home, darling,” my father said, returning my mom’s adoring look.
Before the day was out, I realized that my parents were nothing like I remembered them being.
It was clear that they were working hard to mend our relationship, and neither of them had brought up anything related to money. They were warm and friendly, genuinely interested in my life, and truly heartbroken for me when I told them that I’d been fired.
“I saved up all I could,” I confessed, wringing my hands nervously b
efore the next part came out in a rush. “But I don’t know how long that will keep you going or how many of the next medical bills it will cover.”
My parents exchanged a long look, before my mother nodded.
My father drew a deep breath. “That’s not necessary, sweetheart. We appreciate everything you’ve done for us and all the help you’ve given us, but you don’t have to worry anymore. We’ve got it covered.”
“What? How?”
“We’re selling the company,” he said. “There’s an offer on the table that we just cannot refuse. It’s much more than we ever could have dreamed of. It’s enough to take care of us, and you, comfortably for the rest of our lives if we don’t spend too much on unnecessary luxuries and invest wisely.”
“No, Daddy,” I objected. “You can’t. Athena’s means everything to you. I can start helping out. You wouldn’t even have to pay me.”
“No, baby. Athena’s isn’t everything to me. Athena herself,” he picked up my mother’s hand to kiss the back of it, then turned to me, “and you Demetria. You are everything to me. I just lost sight of that for far too long.”
Tears started welling in my eyes again, but this time, they weren’t born from loss, but from the feeling of finally belonging with my family. From the knowledge that, for the first time that I could remember, I meant more to them than their money.
“Oh, baby, don’t cry,” my mother said, catching the first tear that fell with her delicate thumb and swiping it off my cheek. “We will be okay without Athena’s. It will allow us the time to focus on what matters, like you. And us.”
“Maybe when I can walk again, we will go on a family vacation. Wouldn’t that be fun?” my father suggested.
I had to give it to him. My dad was nothing if not being positive about his recovery. It soothed me and made me feel positive, too.
“That will be great,” I answered, though our relationship was so very new that I had no idea if I’d be able to spend any extended period of time with my parents. Maybe when I was ten but now, I wasn’t so sure. “Until then, who are you selling Athena’s to?”
“Barrett Hart,” he said. “Have you heard of him? He’s the—”
“CEO of BHA Models,” I finished. “Oh, Daddy, no. You can’t sell to him.”
My father looked stunned and turned to my mom for answers, but she simply shook her head sadly and let her eyes drift to me to tell him.
“Why not?” he asked.
“I can’t let you give up everything you’ve worked so hard for to someone like Barrett.” I inhaled deeply, speaking to my father in a forceful tone that I didn’t think he’d heard me use before.
“Barrett? Do you know him?” Although it wasn’t as steely as it used to be, my father’s voice had changed into his old, commanding self.
I really didn’t want to get into my relationship with Barrett at that moment. It was too complicated, and I was too raw. And I really wanted to focus on my relationship with them first.
“He’s a former employer of mine,” I said.
It stung to describe him that way, but it didn’t make it any less true. My father’s narrow, frail shoulders relaxed. I couldn’t believe that he was considering giving up his pride and joy, the company that he had poured his life into, to someone like Barrett. I had to at least try to talk him out of it.
“Don’t sell to him, Daddy. There will be other buyers if you decide you really want to sell. I promise you that I will personally help you search for one, and until we find one, I will work for the company every day.”
“That is a very kind offer, sweetheart,” he said. “But we need the money for continued treatments, and I can’t run Athena’s anymore. I also don’t have enough energy to train you properly, and I’m afraid it will be nothing but a waste of your time. Not because I don’t have faith in you, but because the cash injection Athena’s needs to turn it around at this point is far beyond our reach.”
Disappointment crashed into me in waves of numbing bitterness. So that was that. There was nothing I could do to keep my father’s legacy, my mother’s very name, from being tainted by a man who cared more about his money than the people around him.
Regardless of what I’d thought about him once, Barrett had shown his true colors. What made it an even more bitter pill to swallow was that my parents had only just learned that very lesson. It was one that I didn’t know if Barrett was truly capable of ever learning, and it hurt to know that.
Chapter 25
Barrett
“Are you sure about this, Hart?” Adam asked, following me to my office after the Monday morning staff meeting with a manila envelope in his hands.
“Yes,” I said firmly as I took the envelope that I knew held Demi’s termination papers. I placed it on my table to deal with later. “We don’t need her.”
Adam scoffed. “We’re going to have to agree to disagree on that point. I’ve seen how you’ve been acting this last week. You need to talk about it eventually.”
“No, I don’t have to talk about anything to anyone. She’s done. And I have a meeting to worry about.” I stalked from my office.
Athena’s, as it turned out, was owned by a man called James Fowler. I’d only learned that on Saturday morning when Steven called to say that he’d managed to pull off the impossible. In less than twelve hours of receiving my mandate to push hard for the company, the owner had accepted his offer and was willing to sell.
I only hoped that I had better luck with James Fowler than I’d had with the Fowler I was trying very hard not to think about. The lawyers had drawn up the contracts over the weekend, and I’d been asked to visit the Fowler mansion to sign them.
The place was huge, almost as big as mine, though it looked like the property itself was bigger. It had the grand splendor of a sweeping villa and water fountains reminiscent of the old world European style everywhere. Green ivy wrapped around ribbed columns, and the wooden door and window panes shone in the morning sun.
I parked the Maclaren in the circular drive and headed for the door. Before I could knock, however, Demi opened the door. My heart dropped like a stone, and my vision blurred.
What the fuck?
It was only once she had swung the door open fully and stepped toward me that I realized the woman wasn’t Demi, but the spitting image of her in the future.
“Mr. Hart, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Athena Fowler.”
The woman wore a kind, motherly smile and shook my hand in a firm grip. Just like Demi’s…
My mind raced as pieces of the puzzle I’d been blind to fell into place. Athena’s voice pulled me from the haze I was trying to sort through. “Are you okay, Mr. Hart?”
“Yes. Call me Barrett, please.” I pasted the most charming smile I could muster on my face. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”
If only to get a better understanding of why your daughter felt the need to lie to me, ripping my heart out in the process. It made no sense to me. Why did Demi live in squalor if this was where she came from?
“Thank you for driving all the way out here. I’m afraid James isn’t in the best of health. His doctors recommended that he remain at home for the time being. Please, come inside.” Athena smiled, stepping aside so I could enter their cavernous foyer.
“It’s not a problem at all,” I assured her. “I would’ve driven to the moon to get these contracts signed. Mr. Fowler has built quite the legacy.”
Athena sighed wistfully. “I suppose he did. Follow me please. Can I get you something to drink?”
For the first time, I noticed that there were no staff members around. “I’m fine, thank you.”
Any doubts I’d been harboring that this was, in fact, Demi’s house were erased as Athena led me down a wide hallway. There were pictures of Demi everywhere. As a little girl with a homely woman standing beside her, as a teenager where she mostly scowled at the camera, and even one of Demi’s pictures from her first shoot with Stefan.
My mouth turned to dust, an
d my heart thundered so loudly, it was a miracle it didn’t echo down the hallway. We turned a corner into what looked like a makeshift hospital room. One of the questions I’d hurled at Demi was answered as soon as I laid eyes on Mr. Fowler. He was obviously a very ill man.
The hospital bed he was sitting in dwarfed him, and the nurse by his side watched him closely. His skin was grayish, but his eyes were bright and alert, even if they looked a little tired.
“Mr. Hart, it’s so nice to meet you,” he told me as soon as we entered, his voice weak but still commanding.
“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Fowler.” I squeezed his outstretched hand almost gently, afraid to hurt him. “And please, call me Barrett.”
He grinned. “Then call me James. Have a seat, my boy. Has Athena offered you something to drink?”
“She has, but I’m fine,” I repeated, just as James shot his wife a grateful look of adoration.
“Of course, she has,” James said. “She’s been my rock through all of this. So, tell me, why are you so intent on buying this company? Your offer was significantly higher than the others we received. I’m curious.”
The man might be sick, but his eyes were intelligent and piercing. I imagined that at full strength, it would’ve been enough to make weaker men cringe and go rock in a corner somewhere. There would be no getting away with lying to him, but I had to filter the truth carefully.
“It’s an excellent opportunity,” I said. “I’m looking to branch out, and I believe Athena’s could be restored to its former glory with some edgy marketing campaigns.”
James’ eyes studied mine, searching. “I believe you, but you are holding something back.”
I started to interrupt him, but he held up a hand. “That’s okay, Barrett. I don’t expect you to tell an old man all of the reasons a successful young one would want to take the reins of a failing company, and I also believe that you are right. Athena’s could be restored to her former glory.”
