Heart of Hope: Books 1-4

by Williams, Ajme

  After work, I returned to my parents’ place on Riverside in the Upper West Side of the city. The place was large enough that I could be there without seeing my parents unless I wanted to. Even so, I was in the process of buying a penthouse in midtown.

  After dinner, I went to my father’s study to let him know about my day. To my mind it was a courtesy, although I’m sure he felt it was my duty. My father had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s and encouraged to reduce his workload, which was why I was summoned home. But on the first day, I could see my father wasn’t going to let go of the reins that easily.

  I felt bad that he was sick, but that didn’t mean I was going to come home simply to do his bidding. I told him so when he clearly didn’t like that I was seeking a spot for a club.

  “You know you wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t sick,” he said. I couldn’t decide if it was sadness at what his illness was taking from him, or envy of my taking charge.

  “That’s true. I’d still be in Europe living the life you forced me to create there. But now I’m back at your insistence to take over the business.”

  “I’m not dead yet, Devin.”

  “No, but you asked…actually, you ordered me back home to start running the business. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m not here to take orders though. You give me the reins, or keep them for yourself. I don’t care. Just make a choice.”

  “Devin!” My mother’s scolding voice echoed across my father’s study.

  “You think you can do better than me?” my father asked.

  “A better question is if you don’t trust me, why am I here?”

  “Roarke’s has been doing business the same way successfully for a century, and all of a sudden you think you know better?” my father demanded.

  “Roarke’s clientele is dying, Dad.” I winced at my own insensitive words. My mother gaped, but my father’s eyes sharpened. “You also seem to be missing the fact that many people today that can afford to eat at Roarke’s are under the age of forty. The truth is, in the next ten years or less, Roarke’s will be dead too if we don’t pay attention to the market.”

  “So, what, you want to turn it into fast food?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It can still appeal to the rich, but it should appeal to the young rich. But for now, I’m not touching the restaurant. Right now I’m looking for a club, which, if you read the financial reports I’ve sent back, are not only profitable but often are the first step to getting people into the restaurant.”

  “I read the reports,” my father grumbled.

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “This isn’t easy for your father, Devin,” my mother snapped. “He’s spent his life dedicated to and sacrificing for Roarke’s.”

  “Me too, Mom. Because neither of us had a choice. Thank God I’m not having kids.”

  My mother flinched, and she quickly turned away, which was a weird reaction. I’d more expected her to say something like I was overreacting.

  “I can’t do what I did before, but I’m not ready to let go,” my father said, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I saw genuine emotion in him. “I know you’re good at business. And when the time comes for you to run the company, I know you’ll continue the legacy—”

  “If that time isn’t now, Dad, why am I here?” I hated to be a dick about it, but I wasn’t coming home to have my parents boss me around.

  “Let’s call it a transition,” he said.

  “I don’t want to work for you.”

  “Then call it a partnership. Don’t push me aside. I’ve got a few good ideas left in me yet, and I can be an asset to you.”

  I inhaled a breath because he was probably right. I was still young enough that many of the old guard like him wouldn’t take me seriously.

  I nodded. “Partnership then.”

  “Pour us a drink, Katherine,” my father said to my mother.

  “It’s not good for—”

  “I’m not going to live the rest of my life without having a drink now and then.”

  “Yes, fine.” She poured us both a finger of my father’s favorite whiskey from his ancestors’ homeland of Ireland.

  “To partnership,” my father said holding up his glass.

  I clinked my glass against his. “Partnership.”

  “Well now that’s done, perhaps we can talk about something more fun.”

  I couldn’t imagine what my mother was thinking.

  “I saw Evelyn Winthrop,” she said, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Would she ever stop trying to get me and Evie married?

  “Did she marry that duke or whatever,” I asked, having heard she’d been dating some guy with a title.

  “No. And thank goodness. A title is all well and good unless you’re broke,” my mother said.

  “Dodge a bullet on that one,” my father agreed. “You should call her.”

  “Sure,” I said to appease them. I might call her, but not to marry her. Keeping in good with her family would help me as I took more control of the business. I’m sure that’s partly why my parents were on me to get with her.

  Because I didn’t want to continue the conversation, I put my glass down. “I’ve had a long day and still have more to do.”

  “At least you have the right work ethic. Sending you to Europe turned out to be the right decision,” my father said.

  “In more ways than one,” my mother said under her breath.

  I stared at her, wondering what she meant. Deciding I probably didn’t want to know, I said goodnight and headed out.

  They were right about one thing, I was a different man than when I left, except for one thing. The effect Serena had on me hadn’t changed. I wondered what that meant.

  3

  Serena

  I wasn’t sure how I made it through the rest of the day. Nikita immediately started asking me questions about how I knew Roarke and why hadn’t I ever said anything.

  “You should be using that connection to help build your career,” she’d said.

  “It’s not like that,” I said.

  She studied me and I tried not to squirm. Fortunately, we reached the ground floor, so I hurried out of the building. Back at work, I busied myself with my other events, but Devin and his brilliant green eyes and sexy smile were never far from my mind. It was annoying. I’d been so certain I was over him. I was over him. My hormones, however, wouldn’t mind spending time with him again. It was annoyingly frustrating.

  After work, I took the train home and picked up Andrew at my parents’ house.

  “I’ve made enough spaghetti to feed an army,” my mother said when I found her in the kitchen. “Why don’t you and Andrew stay for dinner.”

  I was never a huge fan of cooking, so I agreed. I also hoped being around my family would help distract me from seeing Devin again.

  “We went to the library, mommy,” Andrew said coming into the kitchen while I set the table for my mom.

  “Did you get good books?” I sat in a chair and pulled him onto my lap.

  “Yep. I got one on airplanes.”

  “Oh good. Maybe you can show me later tonight.”

  “I swear that boy is going to be an engineer,” my mother said, setting a platter of spaghetti on the table. “Andrew, can you let Grandpa know dinner is ready.”

  “’k.” Andrew squirmed off my lap and ran into the living room.

  My mother watched him in a way that made me think she was wondering about his father.

  My father appeared in the doorway. “I’ve been summoned for dinner.”

  “Yes, yes, take a seat. Oh…did you and Andrew wash your hands?”

  My father held up his hands to show her, winking at me. “I think your mother forgets I’m grown up sometimes.”

  “When are you grown up?” my mother quipped.

  My father waggled his eyebrows. “Late at night—”

  “Oh stop,” my mother said quickly, her cheeks blushing.

  I rolled my eyes. “How is it tha
t I’m an only child?”

  Andrew ran into the kitchen and climbed into his chair that had a little booster seat my father rigged for him.

  “So, how was your day?” my mother asked, serving me and Andrew spaghetti.

  “Good. Nikita asked me to help put on a party for Tony Gallagher.”

  My father whistled. “Big time.”

  “Did you meet him?” my mother sat in her chair.

  “Not today, but she did ask me to help at the party.” I made sure Andrew’s napkin was tucked into the neck of his shirt to avoid getting tomato sauce on it.

  “So, they’ll be lots of celebrities.” My father handed me the bowl with garlic bread.

  “I suppose.”

  “That will be so good for your career, I bet,” my mother said. “Where is the party being held?”

  “At Roarke’s.” I turned my attention to Andrew to make sure there was nothing in my expression that hinted at my association with the Roarke family.

  “I’d love to take you there sometime, honey,” my dad said to my mom.

  My mother waved his comment away. “Why pay ten times too much for food I can make right here at home?”

  “Why is it so expensive?” my father asked.

  “Part of it is that they have higher-priced items, but mostly it’s the ambiance and brand,” I said.

  “I hear it has quite a view,” my father said.

  “It is nice.”

  “Can you see airplanes there?” Andrew asked.

  “Probably. It’s way up high.” All of a sudden, it occurred to me that Roarke’s was Andrew’s inheritance. I remembered Devin talking about going into the family business, suggesting he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He didn’t seem averse to business, but he was annoyed at being told what to do all the time by his father. Is that what it would have been like for Andrew? Would he have a choice in careers if he was a Roarke?

  “Did you meet Mr. Roarke?” my father asked.

  I flinched.

  “Rumor is that he has Parkinson’s,” my mother said.

  I shook my head. “No, he wasn’t there.” Was that why Devin was back? Was his father retiring?

  “I wonder who’s going to take over?” my father asked. “The son is in Europe, right? Do you think the daughter will run it?”

  Why my parents cared, I had no idea. “The son is back,” I said before I couldn’t think better of it.

  “Oh. Was he there?” My mother stopped mid-forkful of spaghetti. “He’s a looker.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He was there.” Then I turned to Andrew. “Don’t forget to eat your green beans.”

  “I will,” Andrew said, giving me an annoyed glance.

  “Is he a looker?” my mother asked.

  “Yes.” I focused on my dinner, twirling my noodles on my fork.

  “He’s rich and single, too.”

  My father laughed. “In ten minutes, she’s going to have you married to the kid.”

  I swallowed. “I don’t need to be married to be happy. Andrew and I do just fine.”

  “Well of course you do, honey.” My mother patted my hand. “But life is so much better when you share it with your soulmate.”

  “Devin isn’t my soulmate.”

  “Devin?” My father’s gaze jerked to mine. “You call him Devin?”

  Ugh! “That’s his name, isn’t it? Regardless. Don’t be getting Cinderella ideas, mom.”

  “You should be open to dating though, honey.”

  “Leave her be,” my father said to my mother. “She’s still young and she needs to be picky. Not just any man can take over father responsibilities to young Andrew.”

  “True.” My mother nodded in agreement. “You need to choose someone responsible and who would love him like a son.”

  I was reminded why more often than not I didn’t stay for dinner. Inevitably, it ended up with talk about how I needed a life partner.

  After dinner, Andrew and I headed up to our own place. I gave him a bath and then we read his airplane book.

  “When I grow up, I want to fly airplanes,” he said as I closed the book and set it on the tiny bedside table in his little nook.

  “You can grow up to do anything you want,” I said, vowing to give him the opportunities to pursue his dreams.

  “You can come with me,” he said, scooting down under his covers.

  “I can’t wait. Where will we go?”

  His brow furrowed in thought. “Disneyland?”

  I laughed. “That sounds like fun. I’ve never been there. You know there are a few of them.”

  “Really?” His blue-green eyes widened.

  “One in California and one in Florida. I even think there are some in other countries.”

  “We can go to them all,” he said.

  I laughed. “It’s a date.”

  His brows furrowed again. “Am I getting a daddy?”

  It took me a minute to switch gears. “What?”

  “Grandma and Grandpa said you needed to find me a daddy.”

  That wasn’t exactly what they said, although I suppose that’s what they meant. “There’s no one right now to be your daddy.”

  His expression faltered slightly.

  “Do you want a daddy?” I asked, wondering if not having a father was a problem for him.

  “Other people have daddies and I don’t. I don’t think mine likes me.”

  Oh God. Guilt ripped through me. “That’s not true, baby. He doesn’t know you.”

  “Why not?”

  I supposed I knew this conversation would happen someday; I just wasn’t planning on today. Or anytime soon.

  “He had to go away before you were born. I wasn’t able to tell him about you.”

  “You didn’t have a phone?”

  I closed my eyes as fear and sadness and guilt wreaked havoc inside me. “It’s complicated. What you need to know is that you’re loved by so many people. Your grandpa was a great dad to me, and he’s sort of like that for you.”

  “I’d still like my own daddy.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “For now, you need to sleep.”

  Once Andrew was settled into bed, I immediately poured myself a glass of wine, and drank it as I did my evening routine, which consisted of cleaning up, preparing for the next day, and then settling down to watch Netflix or read. But all I could think about was Devin, and my son asking for a daddy. It was wrong on so many levels to keep Andrew away from Devin, but that had been his mother’s doing. And now, five years later, it was too late, wasn’t it?

  I thought back to our meeting today. I was surprised that after all this time he was interested in knowing why I hadn’t run off with him. A guy like Devin, who could have any woman he wanted and probably did over the last five years, wouldn’t remember a short fling with me. But he did. And he seemed annoyed that I hadn’t run off with him. Or at least annoyed that I was putting the blame on him.

  I wondered what he’d do if I told him his mother had visited me and told me not to go. If he knew she’d told me about his lady friends? What would he think if I confessed that Andrew was his but that he didn’t know because his mother kept me from telling him? She even offered me money.

  It was that act that had made me more committed than ever to keep Andrew from them. What sort of woman would pay off the mother of her grandchild to keep her away? My son didn’t need to be a part of any family like that.

  I finished my wine, and considered having another, but knew it wouldn’t stop the emotional torment. So I washed my glass and then headed to bed.

  When Devin first left five years ago, I frequently had dreams about him. Usually, he was showing up like a knight in a fairy tale telling me his mother was wrong about the other women. He’d confess his love and whisk me away to a place where we’d live happily ever after. The dreams often had erotic elements as well.

  Over time, those dreams dissipated. Tonight though, Devin was back, lo
oking sexy as the billionaire owner of a high-rise restaurant. Before the dream was over, he had me on the restaurant’s terrace, naked and writhing.

  When he was done, he lifted his head, those green eyes shining down on me. “Where’s my son?”

  4

  Devin

  I headed up to my room in my parents’ place, more eager than ever for the sale of the penthouse to come through. The sooner I was out from under them, the sooner I’d be able to exert independence. My father toasted to a partnership, but I was certain he would still expect his input to be followed, and I wasn’t going to take orders. If the idea was good, sure, I’d consider it. But I was my own man in life and business. I needed both my parents to see that.

  “So, are you ready to take over the world?” my younger sister Brianna said from her bedroom door as I passed it. She was a couple years younger and still living at home.

  “Yes.”

  She laughed. Many times, I thought she’d been lucky to have been born second. We might have been nearly a quarter through the second millennium, but my parents still adhered to traditions set in the past millennium. As the first-born son, I was expected to take over the family business. I was also expected to continue the Roarke family line with a woman from an old-money family. I’d do the first, but not the second. I’d leave the procreation to Brianna, who was smart, capable, and had an easier time telling my parents to shove their archaic views.

  “Dad isn’t going to go away that easily.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll go back to Europe.”

  She frowned. “Don’t go, Dev. It’s more fun when you’re here.”

  “From what I hear, you don’t need my help to have fun.”

  “I do my best.” She leaned against the doorjamb. “Are you planning a club for New York?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I help? You'll have your hands full with total Roarke business domination and I’m more up on the New York club scene. I can help.”

  My instinct was to say no because I was a man trying to prove himself. But I also knew my sister was ready to move on from celebutante to more serious work. She was smart and capable, and she was right in that she had more insight into the club scene here than I did.