by Xavier Neal
“And fucked over a nice guy in the process.” I briefly pause and correct. “Well. He wasn’t a nice guy then. He was…actually a dickhead. The divorce managed to knock him down a few pegs.”
“And led him to my mom, which inevitably led the two of us together.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “It’s not my job to judge your past. It’s my job to support your present and future. Deal with this Charlotte case and make sure she never fucks you over again. Stop giving her power just because of this secret. Stand up to her. Accept the possible consequences. And most importantly, see the beauty that came from the ugly. It’s what I did when Hattie was born.”
“You are the beauty.”
Ryann smiles sweetly and leans over to softly place her lips on top of mine.
The relief her lips provide pale in comparison to the ones her words gave. Knowing she’s not leaving my life or rubbing my mistake in my face is a gift I wasn’t expecting. Not because I think she’s the vengeful or spiteful type, but because I can’t imagine wanting to bear the burden of such a secret. One that could divide us from her new father. Her mother’s husband. Her daughter from her grandfather. This…mistake could easily be something that shatters us, yet Ryann chose to see how it united us. How the fuck did I get this lucky?
When I pull back, I repeat, “I love you.”
A crooked smile appears. “Too bad you don’t have time to show me just how much…”
I groan at the temptation and let my eyes wander down to the hem of her loose fitted brown dress. “Show me what I’ll be missing.”
Ryann bites her bottom lip, takes a step backwards, and lifts the edge of her skirt to reveal a lacy cheetah print thong. My body immediately gravitates to hers, face burying itself brazenly between her thighs. The sweet scent of pussy fills my senses and shoots straight to my cock. She hums her approval of the action but moans when my mouth steals a salacious suck right over the fabric. I lean back and hook my fingers around the edges of the string. Slowly, I tug the material down, chasing the path with my tongue, so completely captivated with every curve I don’t hear the knock at the door.
“Mr. Rossi,” Jenna’s voice calls to me just as the thong hits the floor.
Thankfully, the angle prevents Ryann’s pussy from being seen and my actions from being obvious. I pop my head up and divert my gaze to my assistant. “Yes?”
“Ms. O’Hara is here to see you.”
There isn’t time to delay her entrance.
Charlotte strolls in smiling suspiciously bright. She immediately takes one glance at Ryann, and the expression grows catty. “Sorry, Paxy. Didn’t realize you had…company.” She gives her a once over. “I’m sure she was just leaving.”
An unexpected glimmer glows in Ryann’s eyes as she makes eye contact with Charlotte. “You’re right. I was.” She swiftly snatches up her thong from the floor, lets it dangle from the tip of her index finger, and leans down to lock her eyes with mine. “Hold on to this for me until dinner.”
I heatedly growl from behind gritted teeth and drag the object into my possession. Afterwards, I tug her to me by the nape of her neck and let my tongue momentarily punish hers for the unnecessary teasing.
Ryann abruptly ends the kiss, my mouth longing for more. She winks at Charlotte before proudly strutting out of the office.
Jenna shuts the door, which is when Charlotte grunts, “Unprofessional.”
With a wicked grin, I tuck the thong in the top drawer of my desk, and take Ryann’s advice into immediate action. “Fire me.”
Charlotte scoffs and sits down into the chair across from me. “Why would I do that when we’re so close to winning?”
I roll my eyes and lean back in my chair. “We both know that’s not true.”
“Oh…but it is.”
The devious grin has me cautiously questioning, “What did you do, Char?”
“I take it you haven’t checked your email yet?”
“I have been working on other cases.”
“Why?”
“Because I have other clients.”
It’s her turn to roll her eyes. “Let me save you the trouble of having to do actual work for me then. Due to several recent stories trending in the media, Hadrian has been encouraged to settle quickly and quietly.”
“What type of scandals?”
“According to several articles, Hadrian wanting a divorce led to my miscarriage.”
My eyes widen in shock. “What?”
“All of the stress from my life being torn upside down resulted in the loss of our unborn child…What kind of man would cheat on his pregnant wife? What kind of man would put the mother of his future child through such a thing? What kind of man would attempt to deny support to his offspring? His noble offspring?”
The practiced phrasing has me immediately insinuating, “You leaked those stories, didn’t you?”
Charlotte doesn’t confirm nor deny. “There are also quite a few accusations being made about an affair he had while away on one of his social assignments. Apparently, he slept with a waitress? Or was it a bartender? Or a house slave? Whatever she is, the tabloids are claiming she’s pregnant, too. Now, one pregnant disaster is manageable, but two at the same time? That’s a little too much heat for the Reynolds name…”
“Proof,” I quietly state. “They’d want proof before letting the bullshit they see or hear trending be an actual issue. Public figures get dumped with trash from the tabloids all the time.”
When her smirk deepens, it churns my stomach. “Exactly. And as fate may have it, one of the more reliable sources had photographic evidence of my positive pregnancy test, documented appointments with a doctor as well as dates and a diary with excitement over the child I wanted to name Hadrian Jr. There are even entries about missing him while he was away, at which point he was apparently banging a bar bitch. As for the other woman? Sources provided them with text messages she sent to tell him about the baby and his admission to the affair. An affair that occurred before I supposedly had one.”
It shouldn’t shock me that she’d go to the lengths she has.
I’ve always known she has no conscience.
No moral compass.
No give a fuck about anything other than the dollars she uses to keep herself warm at night.
However, this? This is a new fucking low…
“And the woman?” I adjust my tie in curiosity. “What made her decide to come forward?”
“Guess someone just persuaded her.”
Not wanting any more details about potential international crimes, I simply ask, “How quickly and quietly should we be expecting?”
“You should be receiving a call today to confirm the mediation Hadrian begged me to consider. It’ll be here in Highland. They’ve enlisted the help of Francis Dornan since we filed in this country and they aren’t as familiar with the laws.”
“Fuck…” My low grumble rattles the desk. “I hate dealing with Dornan.”
Egotistical.
Difficult.
And has a track record of success so high you’d swear he was sucking judge’s cocks to guarantee his wins.
“Adjust. You’ve got time to prepare. It’s about a month or so away. On a Wednesday. Hadrian has plans to disappear for a long vacation that weekend.”
My mind does mental math arriving at a time I don’t like. Quickly, I pull up the calendar on my computer, and argue, “That’s the day before Thanksgiving.”
Her expression remains unaffected. “And?”
“And it’s the holiday.”
“Thursday is a holiday and only if you’re American. Which he’s not. So, it’s just another Wednesday to him.” I motion to argue when her hand flies up to hush me. “Save it, Paxy. We’ll get me my shit, and then you can run off to stuff your face with your girlfriend’s severely undercooked sweet potatoes and burnt apple pie.”
Ryann’s cooking skills aren’t the greatest, but it doesn’t mean she’d fuck up two things instead of one…
Neve
r mind.
She’s just not cooking that day.
What are we doing?
Realizing the train of thought isn’t where I need it to be, I switch tracks and focus on the subject at hand. “Is the list of assets you wish to acquire affected by this change?”
The smile I hate returns. “Absolutely. That’s the real reason I’m here. I wanna take him for everything I can…”
Her vindictive nature causes me to inwardly cringe, yet I open a document on my computer to begin taking notes.
One month.
That’s all I have to survive with this woman controlling my life.
Just one. More. Month.
Chapter 11
I finish rubbing the glue stick on the back of the photo. “And where does this one go?”
Hattie points to the open space between two other pictures. “Here.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods quickly. “We went roller-skating after I got Barry, but before we went camping.”
“Damn, now I want a s’more,” Pax longingly sighs.
The two of us lightly chuckle at his expense.
Camping for one night was a fun getaway. I didn’t expect Hattie to enjoy being in nature so much, but she enjoyed every aspect. The hiking. The cooking out. Unlike her mother, the weird, creepy crawlies. However, I did enjoy having quiet sex in the bushes. Guess we were all winners in a way.
Hattie adds a few more stickers to the poster board before shouting, “Tadah! All done!”
“Are we sure we used enough glitter?” Pax sarcastically questions.
Thankfully, the attitude is lost upon my daughter. “Just enough!”
I encourage, “Wanna tell us the time table one more time? Just for extra practice?”
Hattie rapidly nods again and uses her finger to dictate. “First, I learned to talk, second, I learned to walk, and third, I learned to catch a baseball.”
Pax doesn’t bother hiding his wide grin over the photo of the two of them in the backyard.
It was absolutely adorable when she finally stopped flinching away.
Jesse was pissed because he “wanted the honor” of teaching his daughter about sports.
Liar.
“Grandma was born first, Mom was born next, and I was born last.”
“Seeing the three of you all in a row like this makes it easy to see just how much you all look alike,” Pax comments. “Gotta say, Buttercup. You’re gonna look pretty hot when we’re in our late fifties.”
“Thank you?”
We laugh together at the odd compliment.
Mom was wary about Pax in the beginning, but now? Now, you’d think we’d been married for ten years and that she’d known him since he a was kid.
Hm…
Marriage.
Something I hope more and more every day is in our cards.
“Keep going, Hattie Pattie. What about this row?”
“You gave me Barry before we went roller skating. We went camping after roller skating.”
Pax’s arm stretches across the back of Hattie’s chair to lovingly stroke my arm. “And what about the last row?”
Hattie returns to touching the photos. “Having dinner with Great Grandma is in the past, me being in first grade is in the present, and me turning seven is in the future!”
At the same time I comment to my daughter, I give her a tight squeeze, “Very good!”
“Are you ready to stand up and tell this to a room full of grownups?”
Her tiny face scrunches.
“Wanna take it to your room and practice a couple more times in front of Barry before dinner?” Pax suggests.
She frantically nods, grabs the poster board, and sprints out of the room.
He offers me a warm expression. “This project is a fun way to teach them about time, but the public speaking seems a little unnecessary.”
“It’s something their curriculum finds important to implement. For many people public speaking is a nightmare and a huge issue, so they believe if we can prepare them early on, they’ll have a better chance.”
Pax looks unconvinced as he rises to his feet to check on dinner.
“Are you sure about tomorrow?” I begin tossing the art supplies back into the craft box. “Absolutely sure? The last thing I want is to tell Hattie and then have her disappointed when you didn’t come through.”
He peers his unhappy face around the corner. “When have I ever not come through?”
“You mean besides dinner with the family a couple weeks ago?”
“That wasn’t important.”
I drop a hand on my hip and lift my eyebrows in the air. “Excuse me?”
“Not like this,” Pax quickly corrects. “This isn’t just us getting together, which is something by the way that can easily be rescheduled. This is super important to Hattie. I won’t let her down. I would never let her down. I’ve told you from the beginning I won’t make promises, I can’t keep.”
The reference to our first date receives a soft smile.
“I have no meetings scheduled for tomorrow. I’ll be there to listen to the presentation, mentally brag that Hattie is better than all the other students, and then take her to Super Bowl Sundae for victory ice cream.” His arms reach to tug my body closer to his. “By the time you get home, homework will be done, and dinner will be being served.”
My arms tangle around his neck. “How very domesticated of you.”
“I live for this shit.”
Our mouths collide for what I am expecting to be a simple kiss. Instead, Pax roughly cups my ass with one hand and the back of my neck with the other. His tongue whips mine over and over again until my knees are threatening to buckle under the pressure.
When he finally tears us apart, my eyes remain hooded while my head hastily tries to stop the spinning.
“Cazzo, è sexy.”
Hearing him swear and compliment me in another language tempts me to insist on a before dinner quickie.
Before that becomes a real possibility the oven dings, indicating the casserole is done.
Pax disappears to retrieve it while I return to ridding our eating area of art supplies. “Jessie says he’ll be there tomorrow, too. I texted him earlier as a reminder, but I highly doubt he’ll show.”
“He never fucking does…”
“Which is another reason I didn’t tell Hattie. The last thing I want is her scared with him in the room.”
“Then why the fuck did you invite him? You know how she gets around him.”
Like she’s keeping a secret she thinks will protect her from his wrath. She says he yells at her all the time and sometimes squeezes her wrist too tight when walking to the car. I reported it to my attorney, but he says he’d need more proof than the word of a shy six year old.
“Dan insisted not inviting him would violate the communication agreement, which entitles him to be privileged and welcomed to all of her school functions.”
“Hope the asshole does us the same privilege he did at Open House, School Spirit Day, and Grandparent Appreciation Lunch and not show up.”
I fight the urge to snicker. “He did confirm he’s picking up Hattie first thing Saturday morning, which means there should be plenty of time to make Holden’s birthday party.”
Oh, God…I am much more nervous about meeting his best friends than I’m leading on. They’re his brothers, not by blood but by bond, which is sometimes stronger and harder to be accepted by. According to Pax, they’re going to love me and that there’s no use in wasting my time worrying because even if they hated me, he’d pound them into a pulp until they did love me. Not so sure he understands forced love isn’t real love, but the sentiment was sweet. Eden met him last week over dinner. Mom and Bart picked up Hattie and took her to Swinging Sushi while we went for oysters with Eden and her fiancés. I was a little surprised at how well the men got along. Turns out, sports, sex, and whiskey really do cross all cultures.
“Sounds like that leaves plenty of time for a pr
e-party fuck and a proper trip to pick out wine and cigars,” he nonchalantly says at the same time he rounds the corner with dishes in his hands.
The tiny smirk on his face is matched by my own. “Also, I’ve got a meeting scheduled three weeks from today to meet with Dan to discuss face to face changing the current custody agreement.”
