A sexy mass of mahogany waves, a petite curvy frame, and a perfectly pouty mouth, along with those eyes, made her a stunner.
She didn’t seem the type to gush over seeing a famous rock star. In fact, nothing about her screamed groupie. There was most definitely a commonality with all the women who obsessed over their musical crushes, and the most obvious was how they all spent hours trying to make it appear that they were naturally that put together.
Yet, from what I could make out in all of the sixty seconds since first seeing her, Camilla didn’t fit the mold in her comfortable jeans, basic white T-shirt, androgynous Chucks, and absence of heavy makeup.
She said nothing more during the time I analyzed her. We just stood there, sizing each other up—until Alec, my driver / security detail, exited the SUV and came toward us. “Everything okay here?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” I responded with my eyes still trained on her. On my admission, Alec moved away, but only slightly to hover near the curb.
After another long, tense span of time had passed, she finally spoke again. “I… um…” she said, only for her voice to crack as her deep-brown eyes desperately held on to mine. “I was hoping to run into you.”
“Do you live in this building?”
“Um… no.” She brought her attention back to me. “Actually, I live in Queens. I know you’re a busy man, and I hoped that maybe we could talk.” Her request meant this wasn’t a random encounter, which caused my hackles to rise.
“How did you find out where I lived?”
She didn’t answer but instead looked at me with a desperation that tugged at my conscience. “I know this looks strange, and I promise I’m not some wacko. But I do urgently need to talk to you.”
“Are you sick?” A very long pause had me convinced that was the case, until she slowly shook her head. Losing my patience, I said, “I’m sorry. I have to be somewhere.”
“Is there a time tomorrow when we can meet? Wherever you want. I’ll meet you at the police station if that would help any apprehensions you have.”
“Look… I really don’t know what this is about, but I don’t appreciate you ambushing me outside my home while being evasive and—”
“Okay,” she cut me off. “I understand.” When she reached into her bag, Alec lunged toward me, causing her to jump while raising both hands. “I promise, I mean no harm.” Once she was sure Alec believed her, she pulled out a thick envelope and held it out for me. “This explains everything. My contact information is inside. I just ask that you please call me.” The white paper package remained suspended between us until I took it from her hand. After one last pleading glance, she turned and walked down the street without looking back.
What the fuck just happened? My mind swam with questions while the envelope weighed heavily in my hand. And needing those answers forced me to release Alec.
“Do you want me to stick around a bit to be sure she won’t come back?”
“That’s not necessary. Apologize to Oscar for me,” I said before heading back up to my apartment.
The trek upstairs seemed to take for-fucking-ever. I didn’t even bother to shut my door before I tore into the envelope with shaky hands. The first thing I read caused my stomach to plummet into a free fall. The more I flipped through the papers before me, the more I felt my own throat closing in on itself.
The last thing in the packet was a photo of a stranger staring at me. I didn’t want this to be true—it couldn’t be. But the more I studied the picture, the more my gut churned, because the little girl who stared back at me had eyes exact to mine.
Hours had passed, yet I hadn’t moved from the chair I fell into. My phone once again buzzing in my pocket added a surge of guilt to the deluge of confusion plaguing me. Having ignored the first two calls and not wanting to continue to cause them concern, I answered the third call.
“Trey,” Jack said over the line. “Where are you?”
“Home.”
“Are you okay?”
“No, Jack. I’m not.”
“What’s wrong?” The slightest pause had him demanding, “Trey, talk to me.”
“I’m sober, but I need you. Can you come? Now?”
“Don’t move. I’m on my way.”
I almost laughed at his command, especially when I hadn’t moved a muscle since opening that envelope. This couldn’t be true, yet as I desperately tried to convince myself that it wasn’t, I knew my life was about to profoundly change once again.
I never wanted kids. And I only warmed to the idea late in my relationship with Tara. In fact, it was only days before the accident when I’d even broached the subject of adopting at all. Of course, she was skeptical after knowing I’d never wanted children. Yes, the sudden desire to have one may have started with a seed of guilt I carried over Tara’s fertility having been stolen from her.
Because of a horrific tragedy Tara had to endure at the hand of my uncle seeking revenge for my incarcerated father, she hadn’t been able to have children of her own. But after Jack and Leila adopted their son Shane, and when he and I bonded in a way I’d never expected to bond with a child, wanting to have one of my own with Tara had quickly become the motivating force.
However, having a child with a stranger, a child who was a stranger to me, scared me shitless.
All too soon Jack and Leila bolted through my door, which had remained open. Jack stared at the easy access dumbfounded, while Leila took one look at me and immediately knelt beside me. “Trey, what happened?”
“I’m sorry I pulled you away from the party.”
“Stop. Are you hurt? Did you…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, but I knew what she feared.
“No. I didn’t have a drink or anything else. I was on my way over to Granite. Just as I walked out of the building, this chick appeared. She called out my name, said we had met seven years ago, and needed to talk to me.”
“Where was Alec?” Jack asked, annoyed.
“He was there. She was a tiny thing. I never felt threatened. Maybe it was the look in her eyes.” I recognized sadness when I saw it. “I dismissed her, ready to get into the car, but she then gave me an envelope.” Jack’s and Leila’s gazes landed on the contract in my hand.
“What is it?”
I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. But as I tilted the papers in her direction, and she read the title, Voluntary Relinquishment of Parental Rights, a gasp escaped. That prompted Jack to snatch the contract from me and scan it with a livid expression. “This is bullshit. You’re supposed to just believe this woman?”
“There is a paternity form attached.”
“Well, that’s the first thing we need to do,” Leila said.
Wordlessly, I handed her the picture of the little girl named Alivia. One look, and Leila’s scowl instantly fell. When she glanced up at me, I knew that she knew this was my kid. Jack took the photo and said, “This means nothing. So, she has blue eyes.”
“She has my eyes.” The same color, the same shape, a sliver of me on a face resembling her mother. Alivia’s hair color was just as Camilla’s, as was her bronzed skin tone and pretty features. But that little girl, who sported an adorable smile hinting with mischievousness beneath it, was my kid.
“Do you remember who this woman is?” Leila asked before glancing at the paperwork again. “Camilla Deron.”
“She looked familiar, but not really.” Fuck, I’d made a mess of my life. What kind of prick fucked a woman, unknowingly knocked her up, but couldn’t remember her?
“Well, you always said you never fucked without a condom,” Jack reminded me. “Have you?”
“No. Not until Tara. But that means nothing. You didn’t see what I saw. This girl had nothing to hide.”
“How old is she?” Leila asked.
“I don’t know. Twenty-five or -six.” Which meant she’d been no older than twenty when I’d fucked her. The way Jack and Leila stared forced me to defend myself. “You both know I wasn’t an angel back
then.”
“Knock it off. That’s not what we were thinking,” Leila quipped. “It’s just strange. Why now? She was obviously young when she had the baby.”
“I don’t know. She wanted to meet me tomorrow to talk, even offering to do so at a police station. When I gave her shit over it, she just handed me this envelope and asked me to call.” Leila and Jack processed what I’d said, yet I knew what I needed to do. “I’m going to meet with her. I have too many questions.” I didn’t voice out loud that I believed this woman was telling the truth. According to Alivia’s birthday, that concert where we’d met perfectly aligned with a child born on that day. Of course, Camilla could have had other partners at the same time we fucked, but she didn’t seem the type.
“Then you need to do it with Gene Flanner there,” Jack insisted. Gene, our attorney, represented Devil’s Lair as a band, and each of us individually as well.
“I don’t want to scare her away before I know more.”
“Trey, you’re not meeting with this person alone.”
“He’s right. You need to protect yourself. We’ll be there with you,” Leila offered. “We can have her come to the studio. Oscar will be there as well, and we can record the conversation if need be.”
Although I thought none of that was necessary, I conceded. “Fine. But it has to be tomorrow.” I’d lose my mind if I had to wait days while sitting on this information.
Chapter 4
Trey
Arriving at the studio an hour before Camilla proved to be unnecessary. It took exactly twelve minutes for our attorney, Gene, to get what little details I had on the night in question. He then reviewed what he planned to ask her and briefed me on remaining silent during his interrogation.
That left many more minutes to kill where my nerves got the best of me. It began with relentless pacing. When that didn’t work, I plopped in a chair, and each frantic jiggle of my leg beneath the table caused the untouched glass of water to shimmy. But when I groaned with frustration, that brought their gazes swinging my way.
“Trey, relax.” Leila reached for my hand in an attempt to comfort me.
“I can’t. I feel like I’m suffocating in this room.” Her eyes widened, most likely because of her ever-present apprehension that something would send me spiraling at any moment. “Chill, Little Lair.” I quickly went on to say. “I’m good. I just regret this. I should have met her alone.”
She nodded with a tight smile, but before she could offer more reassurance a small knock sounded, halting our conversation.
Jack stood to open the door, and there was Leila’s assistant, Haven, beside a nervous Camilla. Haven waved her into the room with a reassuring smile. Camilla avoided the many pairs of eyes trained on her as she took a seat at the end of the table.
My heart pinched at the obvious vulnerability that exuded from her demeanor. Here I was with my two best friends and lawyer, with our head of security standing right outside the door prepared to protect me if need be, and she’d come to this meeting alone.
“Hello,” Leila said soothingly. “I’m Leila Lair.” She then introduced Jack and Gene. When Camilla stared at Gene warily, Leila added, “Please understand the need to have our attorney present.”
“I understand,” Camilla responded on a nod. Her eyes landed on mine and held for a long moment until she focused on Leila once again.
“Hello, Miss Deron.” Gene smiled warmly when he had her attention.
“Camilla.”
“Camilla,” he repeated on a nod. “As you might assume, I thoroughly read through the paperwork you delivered to Mr. Taylor. This information came as quite a shock to him, and for obvious reasons, first and foremost, I’ll need to insist on that paternity test.”
“Of course,” she said rather quickly. “It’s why I included the documents, but I wouldn’t be here if Trey wasn’t Alivia’s father.” Gene raised a speculative brow. “I only slept with two men—my ex-boyfriend, Victor, and Trey.” A rosy hue tinged the apples of her cheeks as he continued to assess her, but otherwise she seemed calm.
The whole thing didn’t make sense. Since last night, I’d tried to remember our one time together. Tiny bits of the night in question would flash in and out of my memory. With the sleepless hours that passed, slowly I assembled most of the pieces from the meet and greet where we’d met.
It was just before we signed Leila. Hunter somehow had gotten us into the venue where so many rockers were scheduled to play for a benefit show. We were last to take the stage before the headliners, M.A.C.E., who we had opened for on their tour the year prior.
The amazing response we received at that concert actually kick-started our record label into getting the album cut, and our debut tour to begin, sooner than later.
That night, I remembered seeing Camilla standing with a friend in the corner at the after-party. Where most of the women there were interested in getting me to fuck them, it was her shyness that drew me in. Sometime during our conversation, her friend had disappeared. Camilla didn’t seem concerned, and after a few shots of tequila, she surprised me by suggesting we go somewhere more private.
I led her toward a darkened room down the hall where the muffled sounds of the party in full swing filtered around us. I wasn’t one to play games, and just as I always did, I came right out and asked if she wanted to fuck. Her response was to initiate it with an erotic kiss.
It wasn’t long before we went at it. The sex was good, but when you’re a man-whore, each encounter tended to blend into the next. I wasn’t proud of that. But in my defense, back then my moral compass didn’t exactly point north.
“Were you with this ex when you and Mr. Taylor had relations?” Gene went on to ask.
“Shortly before.”
“So, it’s possible Alivia can be Victor’s daughter.”
Camilla slowly slid her head from side to side but responded while still staring at me. “The moment she was born I knew who her father was. But Victor already took a paternity test that proved as much.” The way she paused, opened her mouth, and clammed it shut again meant she had something else to say but refrained.
“And?” Gene asked, picking up on that as well.
“And nothing. If I’ve only been with two men, then deductive reasoning means Trey is Alivia’s dad.”
Two men ever? The notion seemed ridiculous. She was stunning, feisty, and presumably promiscuous. I knew it wasn’t fair for me to judge her, but our one and only interaction made it hard not to.
“Well, regardless,” Gene went on to say. “As I mentioned, we will still need to prove paternity. Once we determine Mr. Taylor is indeed Alivia’s father, we can then meet again to discuss a possible arrangement between you.”
“I don’t want an arrangement. The packet of information I gave to Trey is pretty self-explanatory.”
Gene again raised his brows suspiciously. “So, you basically want Mr. Taylor to relinquish all parental rights?” Camilla nodded. “May I ask why you apprised him of a child he never knew existed only to then ask him to surrender a relationship with her?”
She drilled her deep-brown eyes at Gene. “I had a scare recently.”
“Can you elaborate?”
Camilla hesitated before saying, “I have no family here in the States, and if anything were to happen to me, I want my daughter—”
“Doesn’t that negate the need for Mr. Taylor to relinquish his rights?” Gene interrupted.
“You misunderstood.” A tiny line formed between her brows. “I have a friend who would care for my daughter if something happened to me.”
“That would be a conversation that needs to be had once we establish paternity,” Gene informed.
Suddenly, the determination she’d held on to since walking in vanished. “I don’t want anything from him.” At that moment, I believed her. This wasn’t a person looking for a golden opportunity.
“This scare you had.” Her focus slid to me. “Did you lie when I asked you if you were sick yesterday?”
<
br /> Gene laid a hand on my arm to silence me just as Camilla said, “No. I’m not sick.”
“You say you have no family here,” Gene went on to ask. “Where are they?”
“Puerto Rico.”
“Were you born there?”
Camilla paused. “Yes, but I’ve lived in the States since the age of three.” Gene went on to ask a few more questions about her family, and Camilla answered with little patience. “I have no relationship with my family.”
“I understand.” Gene smoothed a hand down his silk tie. “Can I ask what brought you to that after-party seven years ago?”
Suddenly Camilla looked nervous. Her eyes darted around the room before she answered. “My friend had won the concert tickets and the after-party passes. What difference does it make why I was there?”
“None at all. But since Mr. Taylor is indeed famous, it isn’t out of the question to assume encounters are sometimes staged with a purpose. If you sought out Mr. Taylor in hopes to—”
“Get pregnant and then keep that child a secret for six years?” she snapped. “Mr. Flanner, if my intent was to trap Mr. Taylor, to extort him for financial gain, I would’ve done so back then, when I was living on canned goods while working two jobs to make ends meet.” Gene remained silent, scribbling on his notepad while Camilla’s chest rose and fell from aggravation.
“And what is it you do, Miss Deron?”
“I’m a graphic designer.” Gene nodded while again jotting something down as Camilla sighed. “Look, I’m well aware coming to Trey now makes little to no sense to you all, but I have my reasons. If nothing else, it proves I don’t want a dime from Mr. Taylor. All I want after it’s proven that he’s Alivia’s father is for Trey to sign the paperwork. I’ll be gone, and he’ll never hear from me again.”
“You don’t plan to tell your daughter who her father really is?”
“She’s too young. When the day comes that I’m comfortable with her knowing, I’ll do so by making it very clear her father gave up the opportunity to be in her life. I’m sure Trey wouldn’t mind being the bad guy to thwart a possible need for Alivia to reach out and get to know him when she’s older. It’ll be as if we don’t exist, which works well for his lifestyle.”
Trey Page 3
