“Then, hell yeah, I’m in.” I caught his enthusiasm.
Losing myself in his powerful kiss was as natural as breathing. Coming together with Parker was so much more than just pleasure; I was learning it was much more about completion than anything else.
“Wait,” I gasped, pulling away from him. “Did you say resigned?”
“I did.” His proud smile formed against my lips as he rested his forehead on mine. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Parker’s face shifted slightly, but just enough to let me know he was at least a little worried about upsetting me.
Grabbing his biceps, I squeezed as hard as I could without hurting him. “Are you kidding? When?” My laughter fused with my shock making an awkward sound.
Shrugging, as if this wasn’t as life-altering as I thought it was, he said, “About three days ago.”
“Really?”
Parker’s shoulders slumped, as if he was admitting some kind of defeat. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. Honestly, I thought you’d be ashamed or pissed off.”
Cupping his jaw in my hands, I stroked my thumb over his cheek—a motion he usually saved for me, but I was all too willing to repay his tenderness in spades. “I am. And I’m proud. Really fucking proud.” Pausing, I considered my words before quietly asking, “Am I allowed to be proud?”
On a deep breath of what I would assume was relief, Parker said, “Yeah, I was actually worried that you’d be disappointed.”
“What? Why? How could I possibly be upset?”
Sighing again, Parker said, “Because I was taking the easy way out.”
Without giving him an inch of space, I pressed, “How is it easy to throw away everything you’ve earned, everything you’ve worked for and built up?”
“Because”—his frustrated word flew against my cheek before he pulled away—“it was all for someone else.” His admission sounded as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Then, much more quietly, he confessed, “I feel like I’m running away.”
Instantly, the fire in my veins turned to ice. “Running away is never easy. It’s one of the most difficult choices to make and even more difficult to follow through on.” Before getting too ahead of myself, out of pure curiosity, I circled back, asking, “Why do you want me there tomorrow, anyway?”
Thankful he seemed to ignore my comment about running away, I relaxed as he pulled a face of confusion at me. “Because you’ve made yourself a part of my life. Whether you know it or not, your quiet strength has helped me start to fix some of my broken pieces.”
Biting back a whirlwind of emotions, I nodded my agreement to go with him.
As he sealed his lips over mine, I wondered if my broken pieces, the ones I thought were starting to heal, would ever truly be repaired.
If they were, I knew it would have everything to do with Parker—the man for whom I was falling, by whom I was certain I would forever be altered.
The same man who I was certain would run away from me if he ever knew my truths.
As I pulled into the driveway of Harvey Maxwell’s private home, a swarm of paparazzi circled my car. Bulbs flashed and camera lights glared in my eyes. The iron gate of the driveway buzzed open immediately and two security guards kept anyone other than me from getting into the estate. At the last minute, he’d called to say he’d rather meet me at his home, and now that I was here, I understood why. If he ever went anywhere, these people would follow him. How anyone lived like this was beyond me. Sure, the paparazzi were more than likely there because of the recent allegations and divorce case, but I was fairly certain they were there on any other Monday morning as well.
The car lurched into park and a feeling of calm descended upon me. In my gut, I knew this was the right thing to do, even if it meant going against my father and the client who, up until last week, was mine.
Another security guard met me at the door, and I was surprised he didn’t pat me down and do a strip search. Based on the skepticism in Harvey’s voice when we spoke the other day, I was certain he’d be checking me for a wire. Instead, he greeted me as I walked through the foyer. “Mr. Ryan,” he called from the door of his office. Extending his hand, he escorted me into the richly appointed room. The divorce had taken its toll on the man, making him look much older than he actually was. There were bags under his eyes and he looked worn out. “Please, sit.”
His courtesy threw me for a bit of a loop, but I quickly found my voice. “Thank you again for seeing me, Mr. Maxwell. I know it’s an odd request, but as I told you, I’m no longer with my father’s firm.”
He nodded, saying he was sorry to hear it, but it was a platitude. “So if you’re no longer on the case, what can I do for you?” He sat across from me at his desk, fingers steepled and a concerned look on his face.
“I don’t believe your wife.”
“Ex,” he quickly corrected, cutting me off.
“From the first moment I met her, there was something off about her, but since she was an important client, I bit my tongue and did the best I could with the case.” Swallowing back the pieces of information about wanting to make my father proud, I continued to explain why I was here. “When it was just about the two of you, I could fall asleep at night. My conscience could rest easy knowing that it was about dividing assets and allocating money. But then–”
“It became about Ashton.” As he finished my sentence, his face twisted in pain. He stood from his desk, walked over to the side table on which there was a decanter of scotch and a few glasses set up. “Drink?” he offered after pouring one for himself.
Even though it was extremely unusual for me to drink this early in the morning, I had a feeling we would both need it. After accepting the glass, he walked us out on the patio, which extended out from the French doors at the rear of his office.
His gardens sprawled on for what seemed like forever, only stopping where they met the blue of the Atlantic. “That’s a hell of a view,” I declared as I sank into the outdoor sofa.
Harvey chuckled, a short, dismissive sound, then finished his drink in one large gulp. “You’re right about her. You can’t trust her for shit.” Nodding, I took a sip letting him continue. “I didn’t when I first met her, but she charmed her way into my life. She does the same thing to everyone. She hypnotizes them so she can get what she wants. And all she’s ever really been after is this.” Swiping his hand to the side, he indicated the estate. “And money. I’ve never known what it’s like to be without money and neither has she. For me, it’s always been about complacency, security. For her it’s about greed. Pure, simple greed.”
“I can see that about her.” The image of her propped up on my father’s desk came to mind. I knew it then, but it crystallized now. She never had any intention of letting me meet with Ashton. She was going to dazzle my father into taking me off the case because she knew I was on to something. She knew I could see through her charade. “But about your son. Did you–”
“Not in a million years. No. Never. The investigation proved as much, but they could have dug even deeper and still not found anything against me. I have never laid my hands on either of my children.” His voice was stern, serious, and most importantly full of such clear truth; it was impossible not to believe him. I’d had my fair share of time with people who wanted me to believe something that wasn’t the truth, wanted me to work a settlement in their favor even though they didn’t deserve it. My years as a lawyer, hell, even my years as my father’s son, made me extremely good at reading people. I was rarely wrong, and there was something in my gut telling me Harvey was speaking the truth.
“So then why would she accuse you? And what proof would she have had? The police don’t take molestation charges lightly, so they would have to have had some kind of evidence. She had to know they’d find nothing. And the fact that she’d willingly put Ashton through a medical exam—”
He cut me off as a frustrated sigh fell from his mouth. Running a hand over his face, he explained,
“She’s a natural born manipulator.” There was more he wanted to say, but he stopped himself. Picking up a new line of conversation, he said, “You know my lawyer is pissed off something awful at me for even considering meeting with you. If he knew you were here now, I think he’d have an actual heart attack.”
“So then why did you agree, Mr. Maxwell?”
“Harvey. Call me Harvey.” And in that statement, he changed from a millionaire media mogul to a concerned father. “It’s simple. I met with you because I want what’s best for my son. Ideally, I wish none of this would have happened. There’s a part of me that knew when I fought her on the sum of money she wanted, that something like this would happen. But I was hopeful for once in her life she’d do the right thing.” We both shared a laugh of disbelief. I had a feeling Avery would never learn her lesson, even if it meant harming her children. “Wait here.” Harvey stood and walked back inside, leaving me there alone, and the cool sea air filling my lungs, while hope filled my chest that maybe something good might come from this meeting.
When he returned, he had another two glasses of scotch in his hands. After handing me mine, he pulled a phone out of his pocket and slid it across to me. “She’s also a terrible drunk.” His comment was random at first, but as he continued, it all became crystal clear. “When you hit play on the top voicemail, you’ll hear the entire story. She left that for me the day the CPS told her their investigation turned up empty.”
My finger hovered over the button as I deliberated for a second. But there was no choice to make. No matter how complicated my task would become by listening to the message, I knew I had to. The instant my finger hit the button, Avery’s shrill voice slurred into existence.
You bastard! Freezing my accounts. That money is mine, too, and you know it. Just you wait and see. You’ll give me what I need—every single fucking dime of it—or you’ll be sorry. And I know you paid off someone in CPS to make me look like a fool. Keep fighting me and I’ll make it so that you never see your kids another day in your life. You know I can do it, too. No one ever believes the father—and some fucking father you are—never home, out fucking that whore. I don’t care if I have to lie and fucking manipulate everyone who gets in my way to get what I want. You think this little road-bump will stop me? I’ll come back at you with even more. I will. I’ll take it all from you—your money, your kids . . . even your reputation, you pathetic excuse of a man.
The line went dead and as I looked over at Harvey, his gaze was focused far away. “The accounts she’s talking about. They were never hers. You can check the pre-nup for that much. And you know as well as I do, that I’ve given into every single one of her demands—as long as they went along with the pre-nup. She wants to hang me out to dry. She wants everything and she’s not afraid to use my own son as blackmail against me.”
Placing the phone back on the table, I looked out at the ocean, hoping it would offer me some of its strength. “What does your lawyer say about it?”
“Haven’t told him.” He downed his drink, twisting in his seat to face me. “Listen, I know it’s not going to end the case. It will just reopen everything we’ve already agreed upon. The only thing this will do is reignite the media and put Ashton right in the middle of it. She’s not out to ruin just me. She’s willing to throw her own child under the bus and I don’t want that for him. My lawyer won’t hear of it, but I’m ready to sign over everything to make it all go away. I don’t want Ashton and Mia to suffer more than they already have. I want her to take her money and leave the kids alone.”
“Don’t you think a life without their father would be suffering as well?” He shot me a curious look as his face fell. “If she comes back at you with another allegation, any judge out there will keep those kids away from you for as long as possible. CPS has already said you need supervised visitations for the first six months. If she keeps pushing, jail time won’t be out of the question. I know the police have investigated and it turned up empty, but you know as well as I do, she’ll keep pushing. This isn’t going to be the last you hear of her.” With my voice raised, I was trying my best to get him to fight for what he knew was right, to shut Avery down, and prove her wrong. But it seemed as if the fight had already left him, his shoulders slumped and his eyes exhausted.
“I’ve thought about it from all the angles. I really have. At the end of the day, if it’s money she wants, then it’s money she can have.” Harvey was completely deflated. She’d used his children as pawns in this vicious game, infuriating me.
“Will you let me help?” The offer flew out of my mouth as naturally as breathing. “I can’t promise it’ll make anything different, but I do understand why you don’t want to go public with it. I also understand you want what’s best for your kids.” How many times had I wished my own father would have adopted that attitude? So there was something deeper, more meaningful motivating me here. In righting this wrong, I hoped to rip the Band-Aid off the wound of my own issues with my father.
Seeing as he’d already thought through all of this until his head hurt, Harvey agreed to let me try to do something about it. As he walked me to the door, he shook my hand, thanking me for my time. “Just whatever you do,”—he stopped me, as I was about to step over the threshold—“Keep Ashton safe. He’s only a little boy. He’s already going through so much with his name being out there like this. I just want him to walk away as unscathed as possible.”
“I’ll try my best,” I promised as I turned away. And even though I hoped I would be able to sway my father, worry flooded my head and heart as I thought about bringing this new information to him.
As I drove to his firm, I let my childhood play through my mind. He’d been absent from all the meaningful moments—the ones I deemed meaningful at least. My first little league game. High school graduation. Prom. Those were all childish and unimportant to him, despite their significance in my life. My mother had been and was still too caught up in her own material-driven existence to ever care. There were so many times when I wondered if they’d ever really miss me if I wasn’t there. Why have a child if you didn’t want him? Yet somehow, I found some kind of strength to keep pushing on. My weakness came in my desire to have my father acknowledge me. For some stupid reason, everything I did over the years was done with the sole purpose of garnering his attention. And I’d finally had enough.
I no longer needed him to tell me I was a success. Walking into his office, I knew it for myself. No one could take away my drive, my focus. Coming back here, pursuing justice for a child who didn’t have a voice of his own, made me a success. It made me a good man and that was something my father didn’t need to tell me.
“Parker,” his secretary greeted me as I walked toward her. “What can I do for you?” She was all polite and well-mannered, but I knew that my resignation had come as a surprise to everyone around here. She didn’t know how to deal with me and God only knew what lies my father spread about me in the few days I’d been gone.
“I just need to speak with my father. Is he in?”
“He is, but–” The rest of her sentence went unfinished as I walked into his office, not giving her the chance to announce my arrival.
Luckily, he was alone. Sitting behind his desk, he didn’t look any different than he had all these years. But there was one thing missing—his intimidation. It wasn’t that his fight was gone, or that he suddenly stopped exuding that imprecise personality trait that screamed ‘I’m an asshole.’ What changed was that he no longer intimidated me. Looking up from his computer, he saw it was me and went right back to reading whatever was on the screen.
“What do you want?” His voice was full of a bitterness I hoped I’d never taste.
Without answering him, I sat in the chair on the other side of his desk. He still wouldn’t look up at me, so I sat there silently, waiting for him to at least give me the respect and attention any person would deserve. But, when it became clear he wasn’t even going to do that, I cleared my throat and asked, “Did
you ever want me?”
That got his attention, his bushy eyebrows lifting on his face like two hairy caterpillars with arched backs. “What?”
“You heard me just fine. Answer me.” Refusing to repeat my question, I waited for him to say something.
“What are you getting at? I have too much to do today to deal with this shit,” he huffed.
“That’s how it’s always been, too. You’re too busy and I’m nothing but a piece of shit.” My voice bordered on yelling, but I promised myself not to let him get the best of me. Leaning back in my chair, I watched him war with something.
“Not always,” he said, pulling his attention away from the screen. “And no, I didn’t want kids. Your mother did.” His cavalier attitude about my existence made my blood boil. “To this day, I’d put money on the fact that she got pregnant on purpose. Told me she was on the pill and I believed her.” Looking behind me, he wouldn’t even give me the courtesy of a true man-to-man conversation. “The day you were born, I was thankful at least you were a boy. The last thing I needed was a miniature version of your mother spending my money.”
Bile churned in my stomach, threatening to rise in my throat. I knew my father was the worst kind of person—lacking all sense of compassion and humanism, but I’d never seen this side of him. It was as if my resignation from the firm also resigned me from the family.
Somehow, that realization was more freeing than damning.
“But I was never who you really wanted, was I?”
Refusing to answer, he ignored my question completely. “Why are you here? What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.” I laughed. “It’s taken me twenty-nine years to realize it, but I want absolutely nothing from you. Nothing is all you’ve ever given me, so let’s just keep it that way. I’ll never be who you want me to be. From the moment I was born, you’ve hated me. Short of actually disowning me, I’ve never been a son to you.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, I wasn’t at all shocked that he made no move to protest my words. His acceptance of them was written all over his smug face. “So then we’re done here?”
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