Demise of a Self-Centered Playboy

by Piper Rayne

  Always know, no matter what I love you.

  Love,

  Dad

  Somehow, he knew. He knew I belonged here. And rereading his letter now and knowing what’s developed between Denver and myself, I have to wonder if this was part of his plan all along.

  I set the letter on the table and pick up the sealed envelope containing the unread letter. My finger glides under the seam of the envelope. I slowly take out the paper as if it might fall apart if I move too quickly.

  It’s another handwritten letter from my dad.

  * * *

  Cleo,

  If I know you at all, you’ve waited some time before digging into this and probably needed some encouragement from Denver. I could’ve thrown this all away. I could have died and remained silent. But I needed—no, that’s not right—I wanted you to know that I did take care of you. I paid every bill included there. And I don’t tell you this to brag, but I fear after I’m gone from this earth, your mother will tell you something different and I can’t bear the thought of you thinking things were anything other than the way they were. I pray that this letter doesn’t end up unread in a bonfire. Shit, now I’m thinking I should tell you this in person. But I don’t want you to go through my funeral and the reading of the will knowing what I’m about to tell you because I fear it’ll change you and you’ll never give life in Lake Starlight a chance.

  Enclosed in the envelope is your birth certificate. You’re going to see that the father’s name is blank.

  I put down the paper and open the envelope. There on my birth certificate is my mom’s name, but no father listed, like he said. I’ve never seen this birth certificate. The one I have has both my parents’ names on it. I drop that on the coffee table and pick up the letter again.

  It’s blank because your mom never put down the father’s name. There’s one more Cleo folder, and it’s at Lifetime Adventures in Nancy’s desk. It has your adoption papers. I met your mother soon after she became pregnant with you, and I adopted you as soon as you were born.

  The paper slips from my hands and falls to my lap. I sit there in stunned silence for I don’t know how long, unable to make sense of the words. But I have to read what else he wrote.

  I am your father, Cleo. Believe that. Your mother never told me who your biological father was, and I never asked because I selfishly wanted you to myself. When your mother and I divorced, watching you get on that airplane to the lower forty-eight, a piece of me died because although I’d adopted you, the courts didn’t understand that biology means nothing when you love a child. I put up a good fight, but so did your mother. She had resources through marriage that I couldn’t match. I never wanted you to end up in the middle of a war between us, so I backed down. I’ve questioned whether or not that was the right thing to do every day since.

  I never once thought of you as not mine. If you get anything from this letter, please take away that. You are my daughter in all the ways that count.

  Love you,

  Dad

  Headlights cast a glow in the window, and I come to from my shocked stupor. I bolt up from the couch, needing air, needing out, needing to be anywhere but here.

  I tuck his letter and my birth certificate into my purse, ready to get the hell out of here. But when the door opens and Nancy sees me, she instantly knows. She must. The files are in her drawer.

  “You knew,” I say through choked sobs. “You never told me.”

  Denver takes one look at me and panic morphs his features. “What? What does she know? Babe?” Denver drops the ice cream on the counter and comes to my side.

  Nancy stands there, saying nothing.

  She allowed me to act like I’m someone I’m not. To feel like I belong here. I don’t belong here. I have no ties here. Anger fills me, and I welcome it with relief. Because I found out before I was in too deep.

  Then Denver’s hand lands on my back and I look up at him. “The company is yours,” I say.

  “Cleo, don’t decide that now. Don’t be rash.” Nancy’s hand reaches out as I try to pass her, but I back up.

  I hiccup through sobs that won’t stop.

  “Please tell me what the hell is going on?” Denver raises his voice.

  “Let her tell you. Oh, never mind, she likes to keep secrets too much.” I turn from her to Denver. “Chip Dawson wasn’t my father.”

  Denver shakes his head. “Yes, he was.”

  I look at Nancy.

  “Your dad wanted you to go through all this stuff so that you knew you were his daughter. He planned for this discovery because he was worried your mom would tell you in haste just to be spiteful. He wanted you to know exactly how he felt about it.” Nancy says.

  “I need to leave.”

  “Let’s go,” Denver says, urging me outside. “I’ll call you, Nancy.”

  I have no idea what she says because I’m halfway to the truck.

  Denver drives us to Savannah’s house. Another temporary port in my life. A place I thought I belonged, but I only belong here because of Denver. Because my fake father left me half a company that I have no right to own. Denver’s family has wrapped their arms around me, grounding me to this town, but this isn’t where my dad lived and died. It’s where a stranger I hardly knew paid my bills.

  “Can we talk?” Denver asks.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t want the company. It’s yours.”

  I climb out of the truck and run to the house. The door is unlocked and I head up the stairs, but Denver’s footsteps follow right behind me.

  “Cleo?”

  I grab my suitcase and fill it.

  “What are you doing?” he asks from the doorway of his room.

  “I’m packing.”

  “For what?”

  I glance over my shoulder to look at him. All the stories Dori told me about the dog, the cat, the fish… I hate seeing him upset, but I can’t be here right now. I can’t. I sit down on the bed. “I have to leave. I need to clear my head.”

  He falls to his knees in front of me, his hands on either side of my thighs. “We’ll figure this out together. It changes nothing. This is where you belong.”

  “I need to get out of this town.” Fresh tears trail down my cheeks.

  He sits back on his heels, stripping his hands off me. “Where are you going?”

  “Dallas? I don’t know. Just away from here.”

  “Okay. I’ll take you. We’ll fly out tomorrow, stay away as long as you need.”

  I shake my head. “Denver, you are Lake Starlight.”

  His face drains of color, and he stands. “So what you’re really saying is that you need to get away from me?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  I continue to pack because he has the power to convince me to stay. He’s the person who could anchor me to this town. But why? So I can remember that behind every bend in the road was a man who pretended to be my father? No, he lied and my mother along with him. Her, I would expect it from. As long as he was paying the bills, what did she care? But him? Granted, we weren’t the closest father and daughter, but I’d never known him to be anything other than truthful.

  “I’m not sure I do.” He leans on the doorframe and crosses his arms. “So by leaving Lake Starlight, you’re leaving me?”

  “No. I mean for a week or something.” I grab the entire contents of my underwear drawer and shove it into the suitcase. “I can’t have this conversation right now.”

  “You can’t?”

  “Do you not understand what just happened? Chip isn’t my dad! I have no ties to Lifetime or his bank accounts or even my last name.”

  “What I understand is that you’re running away,” he grinds out.

  “I’m not running.”

  He steps into the room and puts his hands over mine. “If you leave here without me, we’re over.”

  He’s so calm, it’s eerie.

  A fresh dose of anger washes through me. He thinks he’s going to tell me how to de
al with the fact that the man I thought was my dad was not? “Then we’re over, I guess.”

  He backs up as if I slapped him.

  I pick up my suitcase, forgetting anything else I left, and trudge past him.

  “There are no flights right now. You’re being ridiculous,” he says from behind me.

  I fumble down the stairs with my suitcase, and it bounces down each step with a thud. When I get to the bottom, I realize I have no car to get to the airport.

  Denver must realize it too, but he puts up his hands. “Hey, we’re over. Boyfriend obligation to be your chauffeur is over.”

  “I’ll take you.” Phoenix walks down the hall in another matching pajama set. She slips into her Uggs and grabs her jacket.

  “Phoenix,” Denver warns.

  She opens the front door for me but probably figures I need some time, because she sneaks out before me, putting her hand on my shoulder and squeezing as she goes. I turn around. Denver’s halfway down the stairs with his hands shoved into his pockets. How did we get here so fast? One minute I was so high I thought I’d made it through all the bullshit to my happily ever after, and now I’m neck deep in crap.

  “I’m sorry it ended like this,” I say.

  He jogs down the steps. I’m desperate for him to understand and come to me. Take my head in his hands and tell me to take the time I want. That he’ll be waiting for me. But when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he just glances in my direction and heads to the kitchen.

  My heart hollows. Spinning around, I close the door quietly and head to Phoenix’s car.

  Thirty-Two

  Denver

  I bang on Kingston and Juno’s door, a twelve-pack in hand. No way I’m staying at my house. I can’t go to Rome’s because of the kids and Harley doesn’t need me on their couch when she’s pregnant. Liam is screwing my sister, and Austin and Holly? No way. That leaves them.

  Kingston opens the door in his boxer briefs, running his hand through his messy hair. “What the hell?”

  Juno comes out of her bedroom, her hair wild and not in an I-just-woke-up way. She shuts her door quietly. “Denver?”

  I don’t even wanna know what that’s about right now. “Both of you, stay single.” I head straight to the couch. “You can go back to bed. I’m going to drink until I pass out.” I crack open a beer and put my feet up on their coffee table.

  “I’ll be right back.” Kingston heads into his room before reappearing in a pair of pajama pants and his threadbare smokejumper shirt.

  “What’s going on? Did something happen with Cleo?” Juno asks.

  I balk. “Why do you say that? I couldn’t give two shits about Cleo.”

  Juno looks at Kingston, and they both blow out a breath.

  “I’m sure you all knew it was going to end. I mean, me in a serious relationship? Please.” I down half my beer. “That’s not for me. She did me a favor by leaving.”

  “Maybe we should call Rome,” Kingston says.

  I finish one beer and crack open the second one. “Why do we need Rome? I just need your couch because I can’t spend the night in my bed.”

  “Why?” Kingston asks.

  “Because I have to wash the sheets and go through the house to get any memory of her out of my life.”

  Juno moves to the couch and puts her hand on my knee. “Let’s talk about this.”

  “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, it’s just an inconvenience.” I click on their television and sip my beer.

  “You guys seemed happy,” Juno says.

  Kingston is quiet. This isn’t his thing. Feelings and emotions. He gave up on those a long time ago.

  “She was a great lay, but now it’s over. Oh well. I’ll have to figure out the company. She had too many girly ideas anyway. Now I can run it like Chip did.” I look Juno in the eye, so she knows I’m not just a half-drunk, pissed-off Denver. “It’s a blessing.”

  She inhales deeply as though she’s annoyed with me but now isn’t the time. “I think you’re wrong. You two were great together, and you’re acting like a complete asshole saying the things you’re saying.” She stands. “Man up and go after her if you’re so upset about it. But this whole ‘I don’t care’ attitude is bullshit and we all see through it.”

  She storms out of the room and slams her door, locking it.

  “She’s so touchy,” I say to Kingston. “Is she on her period?”

  He stares at me.

  “It’s cool, bro, we don’t need to talk about it.” I pick up a beer. “Want one?”

  He takes it, unscrews the top, and puts up his feet to watch ESPN with me. Kingston is the perfect person to go to when you’re down. He’s not going to call me names and tell me I’m stupid. I love my brother.

  I put my second empty in the case and take another one. I’ve missed this since Cleo entered my life.

  Thirty-Three

  Cleo

  Thanks to Bridget, who put a last-minute flight to Dallas on her credit card, I land at nine the next morning. On the way to the airport, I called Luther Lloyd and left a message to get the paperwork ready for me to sign over my half of the company to Denver. I’m painfully aware it’s only six back home. Ugh. Not home, Lake Starlight. My mind wanders to what Denver could be doing.

  By the time I’ve collected my bag, Bridget is there with open arms. I figured she’d be in her pajamas, but she’s fully dressed, with makeup and hair done.

  “You look so good,” I say, feeling a little self-conscious over my eyes that are raw, red, and puffy.

  “It’s the whole television gig. People are starting to recognize me, so I don’t want to look grungy in public.”

  She puts her arm through mine, and it’s as though we were never apart. Walking to the car, she asks me nothing. Talks about her weather job and how she’s moving out of Phil’s house and into her own condo in the city. On the escalator, I really look at her. She’s glowing. She’s happy and thriving. I thought I was happy and thriving too.

  We put my suitcase in her car and leave the airport. She drives for a few minutes before she brings up the proverbial elephant in the car.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you’re going to have to.” She merges onto the highway.

  “Chip isn’t my dad,” I say.

  She doesn’t say anything.

  “Did you hear me? Chip isn’t my dad. Not biologically.”

  She glances at me. “I know.”

  “You knew!” I screech. “How did you know?”

  “Are you hungry? Let’s get breakfast first.”

  I sigh. “I’m not hungry, Bridge.”

  “Breakfast burritos and a walk around White Rock Lake?”

  “Just tell me how long you’ve known?”

  “Almost since the beginning.”

  The swift kick of deceit knocks me over. I want to open the door and jump out, not caring if a car runs me over because I already feel as if life has bulldozed me. I can’t catch a break. Just when I thought I’d found where I fit, I found out about Chip. Thinking about Chip makes me think about Lifetime Adventures, which in turn leads to Denver. I dig my phone out of my bag. No missed calls.

  “What happened with Denver?” Bridget asks.

  “We broke up.”

  She looks at me, apparently shocked. “You didn’t!”

  I nod with a self-satisfied gleam. I knew he wasn’t meant for a relationship, that he wasn’t some prince wrapped in a bachelor reputation. I was right all along. That chick from the bar was probably his piece on the side.

  “Don’t you do that to yourself,” she says, changing lanes.

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  “You’re convincing yourself that Denver isn’t the one. That you didn’t fall in love with him.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Really?”

  I shake my head and cross my arms. “I was simply reminding myself to trust my gut.”

  “I talked to you up there. You were happy. I saw your In
stagram. You both wore love well.”

  “You’re wrong. If you’d been there in person, you’d know that I found him with another girl at the bar.” Even I’m knocking on my head, wondering if anyone is home right now. I’m going off the deep end. I quickly change the subject because I know he wasn’t doing anything with that girl. I’m just searching for anything that will make me feel better about our breakup. “This isn’t about him anyway.”

  “It is if you broke up over this new revelation,” she says and pulls into the small drive-thru. She orders four breakfast burritos, one cold brew and a latte for herself.

  I check my phone again because I thought it vibrated. Nope.

  We end up on the path by the lake, eating our burritos and sipping our drinks.

  “I missed this,” I say.

  “Me too.” She knocks her shoulder into mine. “But you know you don’t belong here, right?”

  I sigh. “I’m not sure where I belong.”

  She knocks me again.

  If I’m not careful, I’m going to end up in the lake. “Can you stop doing that?”

  “Maybe you need a cold dunk to get your brain back in working order.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about my dad?” I ask.

  She crumples up her wrapper and digs in the bag for number two. One thing we’ve had in common from day one is that we’re stress eaters. “At first I thought you knew. I overheard my dad and your mom talking one day. When I asked him about it, he swore me to secrecy. Said it would upset you if you found out from me, and I never wanted to hurt you. After that, I didn’t think much of it. In my world, there are all different kinds of families. Even now, I don’t see the big deal.”