by S. Ann Cole
All the while, I sat there with my mouth dangling in my cleavage. “Wha—how did you learn to do all this?” The Davian I knew, his culinary skills went as far as scrambled eggs and burnt pancakes.
Carefully removing one of the muffins from the baking pan onto my already overloaded plate, he said, “That’s a dumb question, baby. I was engaged to Jessica Stucco, remember? One of the best cooks to ever grace the earth. I couldn’t not learn how to cook.”
Like I needed to hear another praise about that redhead, to hear just how much better than me she was.
Green with jealousy, I stabbed a raspberry with my fork. “Sounds like you’re still in love. What’s taking you so long to go back?”
Pushing the batch of muffins aside, he said with finality, “I’m not going back.”
“Sure you wanna miss out on all those fabulous home-cooked Stucco meals for the rest of your life?”
Davian knew me well enough to understand I was just being a jealous bitch who wanted all the praises for myself, so he didn’t respond, and instead slid off the bread puddings to me, before picking up a fork and digging into the other one.
We ate without words, and oh my God, the food was so good. He clearly had a blast in the kitchen this morning while I was dreaming about Xavier.
“I went to San Francisco last week,” he told me once he’d devoured his bread pudding and cleared the dishes. “To see Jacob.”
“I know.” I eyed him across the island. “He’s my son, Davi. You don’t think I’m gonna know you visited?”
Dave was moving to L.A. tomorrow with Jacob, and we’d both fought about who would pick them up from the airport until I, begrudgingly, agreed we could go together.
With Davian, I had to be cautious because I was still unclear about his intentions. One minute he was every scrumptious bit the man I fell in love with, and the next minute he was a vindictive jackhole. So no way in hell was I letting him pick up Jacob from the airport.
“He’s calling JK Daddy.”
Dropping my eyes to my plate, I stuffed my mouth with bread pudding to eschew responding because I could so see where this was going.
Bracing one hand on the island, he leaned over and used the other to tilt my chin up so our gazes met again. “How am I supposed to feel about my son calling another man Daddy, Alina?”
Deliberately slow, I chewed for as long as I could, refusing to swallow, hoping he’d quit burning me with that accusatory stare.
Plain and simple, I did not have the energy for another argument right then. Not when I had a massive headache and the crappiest feeling in the world that bore the moniker “hangover”.
I never had a hangover before, but I sure as hell learned my lesson never to drink that much again.
Davian, realizing I had no intention of answering him, let go of my chin and ran his hand down his face. “I don’t want to take Jacob away from you. I don’t want to battle you in court. I don’t want to listen to my lawyer rip you to shreds and paint an awful picture of you. I love you too much to do that.
“But I want my son to know who I am. I want him to call me Daddy. I want to make up for lost times. All I’m asking is that you let me keep him for a while, at least until he has no doubt in his mind who I am to him. I can’t afford to see him on a schedule. Not now. Later on, sure, we can do all that. But for now, please, Ally, let me keep him.”
Despite his most recent behaviors, Davian was a decent man. I had no doubt in my mind he would be a great father. Putting myself in his shoes, I imagined how I would feel if Jacob started calling Saskia “Mommy” instead of me. Yeah, it wasn’t pleasant.
Where our son was concerned, I’d wronged Davian in many ways. What he was asking wasn’t unreasonable, but he’d been acting a bit out of character of late, and I could no longer tell when he was being genuine or not. Therein my reservations lie.
He stared at me, waiting for a response.
I swallowed, and then promptly stuffed my mouth again.
Frustrated, Davian threw up his hands. “You’re really gonna do this. You’re really gonna let us settle this in court, aren’t you?”
Just then, the elevator pinged.
Both our heads swung to the left. I sat erect, wishing it was and at the same time praying it wasn’t Xavier. He hadn’t returned my keycard, and I hadn’t asked him to give it back, hoping he would use it, surprise me by crawling into bed beside me in the middle of the night.
Waste of hope.
But holy saggyballs, why use it now? When Davian was here? He would think we had sex. Think we were back together. All chances of making up would be shot to shit because then he would assume this was what I wanted all along. To find an excuse to leave him and run back to Davian.
I waited, heart drumming a haunting tattoo in my chest.
When I heard no footfalls whatsoever, I relaxed, knowing by the silence alone who it was. The only reason we were even aware someone was in the penthouse was that the elevator made a “ping” each time it opened.
Otherwise, our visitor would be a ghost within these walls.
I went back to finish my delicious pudding.
In the next few seconds, I heard Davian groan. “Christ, Ally, when I said you can run to your cousin, I didn’t actually mean it, you know. I was using reverse psychology. You know that subject I helped you with once?”
“Relax,” I heard Cousin Chad mutter in a surprisingly light tone. “I’m not here to kill you...yet.”
I raised my head, and...Wow. Cousin Chad was causal. Novelty. In a simple white T-shirt, plaid shorts, and…push-toe sandals?? Sandy blond hair all tousled.
Like a cross between Ivy League and surfer boy. Someone who couldn’t hurt a fly. Ha! Funny just thinking that. I had never seen him like this before. He seemed…happy.
“Uh, where’s my cousin?” I asked mid-chew.
Ignoring me, he pointed at the muffins and told Davian. “I’ll have one of those. In the mood for something…sweet.”
Davian’s eyebrows shot to the clouds, but without argument, he picked up a saucer and transferred a muffin to it for Cousin Chad.
Taking the saucer, Chad plucked a piece of blueberry from his muffin and popped it into his mouth. “Things to discuss. Both of you. Living room.” Without waiting for a response, he strode off to the living room.
Davian and I exchanged looks with fat, red question marks.
“You know what this is about?” he asked in a whisper.
I shrugged, because he stole that question right off my tongue. “Real quick, you commit any offensive acts in the last month?”
Eyes drifting to the ceiling, he thought for a second. “Aside from threatening to take Jacob, no. You?”
“Aside from getting drunk out of my wits last night, no.”
We both eyed the direction of the living room. The silence was jarring. What in the hell did Cousin Chad want?
Climbing off the bar stool, I rounded the island, fetched two aspirins and knocked them back. Had the very thought of alcohol not had me feeling like barfing up everything I’d just eaten, I’d be knocking back two shots of Patron instead of aspirins to face that menacing psychopath.
I slipped my hands into Davian’s, and together we padded into the living room.
Chad was sitting crossed-legged in one of the armchairs, very focused on enjoying his blueberry muffin one bite at a time.
We lowered down in the two-seater across from him.
Without looking up, Chad said, “Put a shirt on. I’m trying to enjoy my muffin here.”
Chad was a year and change older than Davian. Yet he was like the fearsome Godfather that people knew better than to trifle with. If he said walk, you walk. If he said run, you run. That’s where it ended. No questions asked. No matter how big and mighty one thought they were, in the presence of Chadrick Niiveux, they humbled themselves.
Shooting Chad a nasty glare, Davian opened his mouth to say something, but I squeezed his hand in warning, silently advising that mouthing of
f to Chad right now when we don’t even know the reason for his presence yet was not smart.
Understanding, he bit his tongue and went to don a shirt. When he returned, we sat in silence, and waited patiently for Cousin Chad to finish his muffin.
Setting the crumb-covered saucer down on the coffee table, he sat back and trained his black stare on us. “Are you back together?”
“No,” I said at the same time Davian said, “Kinda.”
Chad stared, waiting for a solid answer.
I knocked Davian’s hand from where it was resting comfortably on my thigh, and then sounded a solid, “No.”
When Chad gave Davian a pointed stare as if asking what he had to say about my answer, he just shrugged and said, “She’s just being difficult on purpose.”
Exhaling, Chad’s eyes went to the ceiling as if annoyed with us already. “I’m told Jacob is being moved to Los Angeles. Why?”
“Because we live here,” I replied easily.
“You bought yourself out of Lion’s contract. You are through with the alcoholic—as fast as that was. You are not marrying Davian Hamilton. So, why exactly are you staying in Los Angeles?”
Dear God, I can’t with this man. He knows everything.
Davian’s head whipped to me, eyes disbelieving. “You left Xavi?”
Ignoring his question, I answered Chad’s. “Because I like it here.”
“I do not see the point of you staying here when you can go back home, continue college, and be with your son instead of bringing him here in this chaotic environment. I do not like how the media is portraying you. It’s not what I wanted for you.” He looked at Davian. “Do you have a problem moving back to San Francisco if she did?”
Directing a smirk at me, he swiftly replied, “Not at all.”
Of course, he wouldn’t! The farther away I was from Xavier, the better for him.
I stomped the back of my heel on Davian’s toes and smiled when he let out a yelp. To Chad, I said adamantly, “You won’t bully me into moving back. This is where I’m at right now. So this is where Jacob will be.”
Chad’s gaze shifted to Davian and back to me. “And what will you do while you are here? Go clubbing every night, get drunk, sleep around, and have all kinds of stories about you in the media?”
Scowling at that, I tried to explain, “I’ve been looking into some online courses—”
“Alina…” Pausing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’s happened to you? You used to be so smart and mature. Where did that admirable young woman go? I should have never let you come here. That alcoholic has not had a good impact on you at all. ”
“I concur,” Davian piped in, his hand shooting up in the air like a studious kid sitting in the front row of his class.
“Have you set up a trust fund for Jacob as yet?”
“No,” I shamefacedly answered in the same time Davian asked, “Trust fund? Shouldn’t I be the one—”
“Alina has a thirty million dollar trust fund,” Chad informed him, waving off his question. “So yes, she’s worth more than you and should have set up a trust fund before Jacob was even born.”
Mouth hanging open, Davian’s head whipped to me again. “You have a thirty-million-dollar trust fund?”
That’s not even the half of it.
I placed my head in my hands and groaned; the aspirin weren’t helping.
“Regardless,” I heard Davian say, “If a trust fund is being set up, I want us to do it together.”
“I agree,” said Chad, surprising me yet again. “Will Jacob be living here or…?”
Davian delayed his response. I knew why. He didn’t know how to break it to Chad that he would be dragging me through court.
So before he committed suicide, I lifted my head from my hands and spoke up. “No. We agreed that Jacob would be living with Davi for a while. At least until Jacob understands who he is to him. ”
Davian’s hand found mine and squeezed. It was a heartfelt “thank you” entwined with an “I love you so damn much, it’s not even funny.”
Clearing his throat, he boasted, “Yeah, just closed a deal on a nice family house…” he trailed off when Chad made a face.
“Where?”
Bemused, Davian glanced over at me, then back at Chad. “It’s in a gated community.”
Except, “gated community,” meant absolutely nothing for Chad. He had to see that place for himself, run his own estimation, and conclude for himself that it was safe enough for his blood to live there. So I knew exactly what was coming next.
“What are your plans for today?” he asked Davian.
“Cleared my schedule to stay here with this one until she felt better.”
A tight smile from Chad. “That’s nice. But if you’re not together, it shouldn’t be your responsibility.”
I let out an appalled gasp, but he ignored me and continued. “Finish getting dressed and we’ll go see this…house you bought. And you,”—his dark eyes turned to me—“be ready by eight Monday morning. Mel will take you to my office. Seeing as you intend on staying in L.A. and waste away, I will line up some businesses for you to invest in, sell small shares in a few of my companies—”
“How do I get in on that?” Davian broke in, never one to let an opportunity slide. So ambitious.
“You can’t,” Chad said flatly. “I’m already making you rich. Be grateful.”
When Davian’s features arranged into complete befuddlement, Chad released an impatient sigh and explained, “Ice Steam belongs to me, not Benny. Do you want to know why he can’t drop you? Because he doesn’t own you. He loses his free 10% income if he does. Benny doesn’t finance Ice Steam, I do.
“We have a contract. He keeps you under the label’s name, and he collects a manager’s 10% commission—even though he isn’t managing. I’m the one promoting you alongside Ninety Miles. Were it up to Benny, you’d be nowhere. So feel free to tell him off whenever you feel like it. There’s nothing he can do about it. He’s getting free money. Now, get dressed. Let’s go.”
Mouth opening and closing, as if unable to find words for this revelation, Davian slowly rose.
Chad looked to me and continued. “As I was saying. Monday. Dress appropriately. Seamless business attire, and leave your smart mouth behind. I’m only tolerable today because I’m in a good mood. On Wednesday, I’m accompanying both of you to the bank to start a trust fund for Jacob.”
As Davian moved off to go get ready, he paused, looked Chad in the eyes, and told him, “By the way, Alina is always my responsibility.”
Chad watched him go then commented. “He’s grown a pair, that one.”
“A pair that’s made him into an insufferable asshole,” I mumbled.
“That means he’s maturing.” He nodded approvingly. “I’m impressed. Why aren’t you marrying him?”
I folded my lips, refusing to take the bait. He knew damn well why. Because I loved Xavier more. Cousin could be so confusing at times. First, he hated Davian and chased him away. Now he hated Xavier and was pushing Davian on me?
I suspected he tried getting me to move back to San Francisco so I’d be away from Xavier, and because he knew wherever I went, as long as I was single Davian would follow me.
Evading his question, I asked him, “What exactly has you in such a good mood today, cousin?”
He grinned at me. Actually grinned. Never had I ever... “Jhay said yes.”
Jhay was his girlfriend. A raven-haired, intimidating as all hell badass that he was googly-eyes, tongue-hanging, down-on-bending-knee in love with. “Yes to what?”
“Marrying me.”
A whoosh breath left me and my whole body went lax. I could float in a pool I was so light. My hands fell to my sides as I dropped my head on the back of the sofa, stared up at the ceiling, and said, “Can’t say it’s not relieving to discover I’m not the only stupid woman left on the planet.”
Cousin Chad laughed.
Hard.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS I COULD HAVE EASILY PREDICTED, Chad hated the house Davian bought. He had put it back on the market and they went house-shopping Chad-style.
In less than two weeks, Davian had a six-bedroom mansion in Bel-Air, Jacob had a trust fund, and I had a billion dollars’ worth of investments in multiple businesses.
Due to the delayed house process, we’d pushed back Jacob’s move to Los Angeles. Instead, I flew to San Francisco and decided to chill there with Jacob until the house was ready. Especially since Davian would be the one keeping him. I had to get in a few good moments before handing him over.
It was moving day. Dave, Jacob, and I boarded a flight en route to Los Angeles. The one-hour flight with Dave was miserable. While Jacob gazed out the first-class window and babbled to the clouds, Dave sat beside me griping, sweating, and wheezing. Afraid of flying.
My mood went for the worse when we strolled out of LAX and straight into a sea of paparazzi. Cameras flashing, calling our names, shouting questions on whether Davian and I were back together, or if I’d been using Xavier and Jessica all along to get Davian back. Oh jeez, it was endless. Did they really expect people would stop and answer those questions?
“Davi,” I growled under my breath as I stopped and scanned the crowd for him and Mel. “He did this.”
He was supposed to pick us up from the airport with Mel. No one, no one but Davian and Mel knew what time we would be flying in today. He was still playing a freaking game. This was precisely the reason I was hesitant to trust him.
“Dav?” Jacob asked, attempting to repeat me.
I adjusted him on my side and nuzzled his neck. “Yes, Davi. Your daddy. I’m going to kill him.”
Jacob’s eyes lit up and he wriggled excitedly in my arms, his head twisting around, searching. “Daddy! JK! Daddy! JK!”
“No. No, not JK.” I playfully pressed his cute little nose. “Your real father. Davi.”
I heard Dave emit a weighty sigh beside me. He knew, too, that this would take some time. Pulling Jacob from his old life, from the people he was familiar with, and being thrust into the arms of a new “Daddy”.
A commotion erupted as the herd of paparazzi parted, cameras going off like mad. Davian emerged, his smile wide, eyes bright and fixed on Jacob.