Violet looked at him with concern lining her brow. “This night is important for you, Aidan. You’re going to meet the people that will help you make Molly’s House a success. They need to have confidence in you, and part of that is looking the part.”
“I want to look competent. I don’t want to look like I’m skimming from my own charity to line my pockets.”
“Think of it this way. A nice, quality suit is a good investment. If you pick the right one, you’ll be able to wear it your whole life.”
“I’ll be wearing it every damn day, Violet, because I’ll have to sell all my other clothes to pay for it.”
She sighed and twisted her lips in thought. Reaching out to a nearby rack, she pulled a sleeve toward her to glance at the price tag then let it drop. Turning back to Aidan, she narrowed her gaze. “We’re getting you a suit. It’s my treat. I insist.”
Aidan held out his hands to fend off her misplaced generosity. “Oh, no. No, no, no. You are not my fairy godmother, Violet, and I’m not letting you buy me a suit for the ball. Absolutely not. I’ll wear sweatpants to the gala before I let you do that.” He meant it. It was one thing for Molly’s House to be a charity case for the foundation. He wasn’t about to be her personal charity case, no matter how badly she wanted to give him a makeover.
“I can afford it. Let me do this for you. As a thank-you for letting us stay with you at your apartment.”
Aidan could feel a surge of irritation rise up his neck making him tug at the collar of his shirt. He was regretting mentioning his need of a tuxedo almost the moment he’d said it. The light had come on in her eyes and he knew he was in trouble. “Violet, you have more money than some small countries. I get that. I also get that you are a thoughtful person and you like helping people when you can. But I need you to look at this from my perspective.”
“And how is that?”
Aidan crossed his arms over his chest to keep from curling his hands into fists of frustration. “I’m a grown-ass man, Violet. I own my own business. I run my own life. I’m not used to anyone having a say in what I do or how I do it. I brought you along for your opinion. I certainly don’t want or need someone picking out my clothes, much less paying for them. Would you have done that for your ex? Treated him like your Pygmalion project? Clean him up so he’s suitable to go out in public?”
“Of course not,” Violet argued.
“Because he didn’t need to be cleaned up, right? He was already the perfect match your parents loved.” Aidan shook his head and turned away. He needed to walk away from this before he said something he would regret. “I need some air.”
Turning on his heel, Aidan headed for the exit and out onto Fifth Avenue. He pushed through the throngs of shoppers and tourists, hoping that the sounds of the city would block out the pounding of blood in his ears. When he got about a block from the store, he sat down on the edge of a planter and took a deep breath.
A few moments later, Violet sat down beside him without speaking. “I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I’m not trying to change you or clean you up, and I don’t want you to think that I am.”
Aidan didn’t say anything. He was too frustrated to answer her right now. He knew he wasn’t a clean-cut, upper-class guy like she was used to. He didn’t go to prep school or grow up with a trust fund. He went to a small state college on a scholarship and a prayer, trying to mold himself into a new and improved version of Aidan, but in truth, he didn’t really like that Aidan. That was why it had been so easy to walk away from the advertising firm. He never felt like he fit in there, something his ex-fiancée did little to help him get through.
“I forget sometimes that people react to my money differently. Some ignore it. Some are more than happy to help me spend it on them or anyone else. Some are almost repelled by it. I try to do the best things I can with my inheritance, and that means helping people when they need it. But the last thing I want to do is use it in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable. So forget it. Buy your own damn suit.”
When Aidan turned to look at her, she was smiling. “Fine. I will,” he said, matching her smile.
“Fine!” She laughed and turned back to the traffic going by.
“I just need a new suit, Violet,” he said after a few moments. “Just a suit. Basic black. Nothing fancy.”
“Okay. Can we try again?”
Aidan shrugged. Despite his irritation, he did still need something to wear. “Yeah.”
They stood up and when they turned around, they were standing outside of Bergdorf Goodman. “Let’s try in here,” she said. “They have a variety of brands and even some ready-to-wear pieces that might work.”
He reluctantly followed her into the store. They wandered through the displays, but he still didn’t see anything that would suit her taste in his budget.
It wasn’t until Violet caught a glimpse of a sales associate walking past them. “Excuse me?”
The man stopped and turned to them both with a polite smile. He was wearing a suit that probably cost more than either man made in a month, but that was a perk of working there, Aidan supposed. “Yes, can I help you find anything?”
“Actually, yes. Is there an area where you have any suits or suit pieces marked down? Maybe an end-of-season section?”
“We have a few things. Please follow me.” The man with a name tag that said Marcus led them to the back corner of the men’s formalwear section where there were a few pieces hanging. “This is all we have marked down in the store.”
From Aidan’s vantage point, he already knew it wasn’t going to work. There was a camel-colored sport coat, a black corduroy blazer two sizes too large for him and a couple dress shirts. This wasn’t exactly the type of place to have a sale. Those kind of things would be shipped out to an outlet store or discount retailer, not hanging in plain sight at the flagship Manhattan store. This was Fifth Avenue. It hurt the luxury branding to mark things down. Aidan knew that much from his years in marketing.
Violet looked over the selection and then turned back to the salesman with the sweetest smile he’d ever seen grace her lovely face. She wanted something, and he could tell she was determined to find a way to get it on Aidan’s terms.
“I know this is a strange question, but do you ever get suit returns? I know with the custom tailoring you do here it might not happen very often, but I was hoping to find something for my friend. You see, Marcus, we’re both involved in a charity organization that’s hosting a black-tie event for some very important donors. As much as I’d love to just pick out the latest style and let your tailors start measuring him, it’s probably going to be out of our budget.”
Marcus listened to her speak, nodding in consideration. “What kind of charity is this for?”
“I’m opening a transitional home called Molly’s House,” Aidan chimed in. “It’s designed to help alcoholics transition from rehab back into real life by giving them a safe space and the tools they need to cope with their new sobriety. I’m trying to make a good impression on our potential donors, but the young lady’s taste far exceeds my budget. I understand if there’s nothing in the store that will work for what I need.”
Marcus looked thoughtfully over their shoulders for a moment and then held up his finger. “I actually might have something.” He disappeared into a doorway marked Private and came out a few minutes later with a black Tom Ford suit bag in his hand.
“This was a custom tuxedo order. We’ve called the client repeatedly to pick it up over the last month and this morning, he finally called back to tell us that he’d changed his mind about the order. It’s a Tom Ford slim-fit mohair and wool-blend tuxedo. You would need some additional alterations, but it might work for what you want.”
Aidan watched the man unzip the bag. Inside was a sharp, black tuxedo with a black satin lapel and bow tie. He turned in time to see Violet’s eyes light up at the sight of it. He knew fr
om the description alone that she’d love it. “How much?” he asked. He didn’t want to try it on and have her fall in love with something he still couldn’t afford.
Marcus eyed the paperwork attached to the suit bag and did a little mental math. “Normally this is something we couldn’t sell, since it was a custom order. We’d either allow one of our employees to use their discount on it or pass it along to the outlet locations, but for you, I think I can make an exception. Would seventy-five percent off make it doable for you?”
Aidan glanced at the paperwork and realized that he was about to get an amazing deal on a designer tuxedo. It was more than he wanted to spend, even then, but the quality was well worth the investment. “Are you serious?” he asked.
Marcus smiled and nodded. “I am. Why don’t we take you back to try it on? I’ll get one of our tailors to mark it up for you and you can pick it up later this week.”
“Okay.” Aidan followed him back, leaving Violet in the area outside the dressing rooms.
Once they were alone, he turned to Marcus as he hung the suit in one of the private rooms. “Is this suit really supposed to be marked down that much?”
“Probably not,” Marcus said. “But my stepfather is a recovering alcoholic. I appreciate the work you’re trying to do, and if I can help you look good doing it, I will.”
Seven
“Where are you two headed?”
The following day, Aidan was leaving his building with Knox in his stroller when he ran into Violet coming in. “Hey. I didn’t expect you to be off so early today.”
“Well, I decided I could stop and take some work home or stay in the office and work until ten. I opted to leave for my own sanity. Are you guys headed out with Tara?”
Aidan laughed. “No, I gave Tara the afternoon off. She mentioned needing to run a few errands. Since I’m off today, I thought I’d take Knox to the park so Tara could do what she needed without hauling the baby everywhere with her.”
Violet stiffened and straightened the laptop bag on her shoulder. He could tell that she didn’t like the idea of him having the baby on his own, despite how often he’d interacted with Knox while they’d shared his apartment. “Since you’re home early, would you like to join us?” he offered to defuse the tension.
“A trip to the park would be nice,” she said, obviously trying not to act like she was afraid of him handling their infant without help. “Can you give me a minute to run upstairs and change?”
“Absolutely. We’ll be right here.”
Violet went upstairs and returned about ten minutes later, dressed for the park. She’d pulled her dark hair up into a ponytail and put on a pair of tight jeans and a little T-shirt that highlighted her curves. It was casual and clingy, and he enjoyed the look far more than any of the stuffy outfits she seemed to wear at work each day.
They walked a few blocks to the nearest park in a relatively comfortable silence. Once they arrived, they continued around the shady path circling the playground area. Knox was still far too young to play at the park, but Aidan liked the idea of getting him out of the apartment and into what little nature Manhattan provided.
Knox looked up at the canopy of trees and sky overhead and took everything in with wide eyes. He thoughtfully sucked on his Iron Man pacifier, content with his smooth ride in the stroller.
Aidan smiled down at his son, then looked out at the other people around the park. “Nothing but nannies,” he pointed out with an irritated edge to his voice.
Violet just shrugged off his observation. “It’s the middle of a weekday. Most people are at work and that means a nanny has to take them, or they’d be in school or day care.”
Aidan understood the practicality of it, but that didn’t mean he liked it. “I get it. There aren’t many stay-at-home moms these days. And Tara has won me over, no question. I just worry that these kids are growing up without the kind of parental attention and affection they need to be well-rounded and emotionally healthy adults.”
Violet turned to him with a curious cock of her head. “Do you find me to be well-rounded and emotionally healthy?”
Despite the alarm bells going off in his head, he knew he had to answer honestly if he was ever going to convince Violet to raise their son any differently. “Not really. You and your parents definitely have issues. I don’t know you well enough to see how that flows into your daily life, but I’ve already seen evidence of it in our relationship.”
Violet stopped walking and planted her hands on her hips. “Like what?”
“Like your drive for perfection in yourself and in others. Your constant unfounded worry that you’re not going to make the right decision. I mean, I can tell you that you’re the closest thing to perfection I’ve ever encountered and you won’t believe me. You’ll only hear your parents’ criticisms. I don’t understand why their opinion is so important.”
Violet sighed and her gaze shifted to a far-off corner of the park. “Their opinion is important because I was always vying for their attention as a child. You’re right, I was with nannies over ninety-five percent of my childhood. My parents were always working or traveling or doing any number of things that took them far away from me. I had to be the best at everything I did just so they would take notice of me, but it never seemed like enough for them. I was valedictorian in high school, I went to the college they wanted, I got the degree they wanted, I dated the man they wanted...they still weren’t happy. Until the day I walked into Murphy’s Pub, I was living a life of their choosing, not mine.”
Aidan didn’t understand Violet’s parents at all and he didn’t look forward to the day he’d have to interact with them. They might be Knox’s grandparents, but he certainly wasn’t going to let them belittle and micromanage his son the way they did with her. “They should be thrilled to have a daughter like you, no matter who you date or what you do.”
Violet turned back to him and studied his face for a moment as though she didn’t believe his words. He couldn’t understand how she could question them.
“Despite what you might think, I don’t want to raise Knox the way I was raised. Yes, I have a nanny to help me while he’s small, but I have no intention of ever handing my child over while I go globetrotting. I will be there for every day of my son’s life. And I want you to be there, too.”
Her expression was gravely serious as she looked in his eyes. Up until this point, Aidan wasn’t entirely sure that was how she felt. She seemed agreeable enough to including him in Knox’s life, but it had only been a couple weeks. They’d just gotten back the positive paternity test results they were both anticipating, and looked over a draft custody arrangement with her attorney. Would she feel the same way months or years from now? When her parents and the rest of Manhattan society found out Knox’s father was a poor nobody?
“I mean it,” she continued. “Regardless of what happens between the two of us, I want you to be as big of a part of your son’s life as you can. Knox deserves that. And you do, too.”
Violet reached out and covered his hand with her own as it gripped the stroller handle. Just like at the office, her touch was warm and comforting, reminding him how long it had been since someone had touched him so tenderly. Perhaps since his mom died. His gaze dropped uncomfortably to her hand as he tried not to get overly emotional in the public moment they were sharing.
“Thank you,” he said at last. “My father was never around, either. He was always at the bar or sleeping off a bender. I’m not sure whether he opened the bar because he was an alcoholic or if he became an alcoholic because he owned a bar, but the result was the same. He was wasted or hungover most of the time. He never did any of the things a dad is supposed to do with his son. He never even came to one of my ball games in high school. My mom did her best to make up for it, but there was only so much she could do.”
“I can’t imagine you ever being that kind of father, Aidan. You�
��ve known your son for such a short time and yet you adore him. Anyone can see that. You’re not going to cast him aside like your father did to you.”
“Did you know that’s why I don’t drink?”
Violet frowned. “I hadn’t noticed that, although it makes perfect sense.”
“I can’t even tell you what a beer tastes like, only how it smells. I was always too afraid of being like him. I worried one drink would turn into ten and the next thing I knew, I’d be in as deep as he was. I couldn’t do that to myself or to my mother. She’d already been through so much with my dad.”
“The halfway house will help a lot of people.”
“It was my mother’s idea, really. Dad tried rehab twice and it worked fairly well at first, but once he came home and went back to work, he’d settle back into his bad habits. Even if he didn’t work in a bar he would’ve had trouble. She always said that he needed more than twenty-eight days. He needed a transitional place to help him adjust to his sobriety in his old, comfortable situations. She hated not being able to stop my father from destroying himself, and eventually that’s what he did. He died of liver failure about three years ago. That’s why I quit my job at the advertising agency and took over Murphy’s.”
“Wait. You worked at an advertising agency?”
Aidan frowned. Had he not told her that story? He supposed they had barely scratched the surface in their discussions. “Yeah. I was an advertising executive for about five years after graduating from college. I’d worked on a few successful campaigns for some big accounts and was being fast-tracked at the firm. It was certainly a different life than the one I live now.”
“Do you ever miss the work?”
“I hate to disappoint you, but no, I don’t. I was trying to better myself and I realized that it didn’t make me any happier than I was when I was poor. In truth, I was miserable. Successful and miserable. Running my father’s bar isn’t the most important or well-paying job in the world, but I like my employees and my clientele. I enjoy going in most days. I like being there when people need someone to talk to. It’s a completely different kind of experience each day and I like that.”
One Unforgettable Weekend (Millionaires 0f Manhattan Book 6) Page 8