“Sir!” The bodyguard finally limped to his client’s side.
“Wait for me at the car!” Harvey snapped and waved him away.
“I don’t think that’s wise, sir.” The bodyguard’s eyes darted between his client and Calista.
“Just because she pummeled you, does not mean my daughter will hurt me.”
Both ignored the gasps from the bodyguard and waited until he moved away, limping and holding his broken wrist close to his body.
“Am I correct? You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” He cocked a bushy eyebrow at her.
He got no answer because he deserved none. Let him wonder. In fact, this conversation wouldn’t be in front of her mother. She signaled to the nurse waiting a discrete distance. “Take her back to her room, please.”
“I’m in the market for new security since you so succinctly pointed out my inept security.” He wheezed a raspy wet sound the opposite of Julius’ dry raspy wheezing. Harvey sounded like he was trying to breathe through a wet sponge. “Care to work for me?”
The smidgen of compassion tugging on her heart died. “Why are you here?”
His motorized chair whirled to life. He backed up and angled his chair, forcing Calista to move out of his way as he brought the wheelchair back to her mother, blocking the nurse from taking her.
“Mavis, dear. Aren’t you enjoying the fresh air and sun today?”
Her mother had been studying the low hanging leaves as if they had the secret to immortality. Then her confused gaze landed on Harvey. Her smile returned. Beatific in its intensity. “Harvey. I didn’t realize you were here.”
His breath hitched, and he murmured like a lover greeting a lover. “I came for a visit, like I promised.”
She took his hand and squeezed it tightly. “I’ve missed you.” She sighed so forlorn it nearly broke Calista’s heart.
“I’ve missed you, too.” The sincerity in his voice polluted the air.
Lies! The word burned Calista’s tongue, but, for her mother’s sake, she swallowed it down and watched Harvey kiss her mother’s hand while she blushed like a virgin on her wedding night. Nauseated, Calista signaled to the nurse. “Mom, you need your afternoon nap.”
“I do?” she asked, confusion setting in easily. “I don’t feel tired.”
“But you are, Mom. So, tired. I bet your head hits the pillow and you’ll fall right to sleep.” Calista helped her mother to her feet and passed her into the care of the waiting nurse.
“I don’t want to go. Your father promised to have lunch with me,” Mavis whined and it broke Calista’s heart at the childlike quality.
“I brought that butter pecan ice cream you love. We’ll have it later, my love.” Harvey captured Mavis’ hand before the nurse whisked her away. “Why don’t you freshen up while I talk to our daughter. I’ll join you in a moment.”
“Alright.” Her mother allowed the nurse to take her away.
Calista claimed her mother’s seat. She waited for her mother to be led away before she lurched to her feet and faced the wrinkled, withered bastard.
“You look well, Calista,” he said when her mother was out of earshot.
Torn between the ingrained hatred she’d nurtured for more than twenty years and the respect for one’s elders her mother had taught her, Calista watched him. Bug, meet microscope.
Harvey cleared his throat and slumped lower in his seat. “I know this is worthless, too little, too lat—”
“Cut the bullshit and tell me what you want.”
He gulped, his flabby double chin shuddering through a coughing fit. He pulled a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and made her wait. She had not an iota of sympathy when the white linen handkerchief came back blood speckled. She refused to feel sorry for him. Refused.
He produced another handkerchief and mopped his sweaty forehead. “It’s too late for amends, I know that.”
“Then why are you here!” She couldn’t, wouldn’t take much more of this.
“I didn’t know she was in a nursing home!” he shouted back.
“It’s not a nursing home. It’s assisted living. I would never place my mother in a nursing home!” Unless she had no choice, a last resort that was fast approaching.
Relief and shame drifted across his weathered features. “Forgive my assumption. I thought she was still in her house in Queens.”
He had the same chance of gaining her forgiveness as she did of finding a golden unicorn. It wasn’t going to happen. Wait… What did he say? “How did you know about the house in Queens?”
He sighed, tired and seemed to shrink into the chair. “Mavis picked out the house. I bought it.”
“That’s a lie!” she snarled. “I’ve seen the bank records and the deed. Your name is nowhere on any piece of paper. It took her years, but she paid that mortgage. Not you.”
Wheezing through his mask, he said, “I have five hundred million invested in that bank. The entire payroll of my company flows through their coffers. They do what I want them to do and what I tell them to do.”
Oh my God. She didn’t need to investigate to discover the truth. She believed him because he was that ruthless. Except… “My mother knew this? Went along with this?”
“Yes.” Between the oxygen mask and his wheezing, the word came out as a long hiss, lending veracity to his snake-like nature.
“I know you believe I’m a deadbeat father. I’m not. I paid for the roof over your head, the food in your belly, the hours of karate and jujitsu, and your private education all the way until you dropped out with just an associate’s degree to be a damn bodyguard,” he spat.
And the hits kept coming. “You paid for all of that?” Her voice sounded small, wounded.
“Of course.” He huffed. “You think your mother could afford all that on her salary as a maid, then a housekeeper at that public hospital?”
Actually… Yeah, she did. If Harvey paid for it all, then why the double shifts? Why the double time on holidays when she could’ve been home with her? “What else did you pay for?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. She wouldn’t allow it, like she wouldn’t allow me to see you.”
Calista ignored the last part and focused on the beginning of the sentence. “She wouldn’t allow what?”
“She would only take money for you to have the best. That’s why she wanted the house and the private schools and all the extracurricular activities. Anything else, she wouldn’t take a dime.”
Calista understood. Her mother took what she felt was owed to her child and nothing more. That’s why Calista went on every school trip, even when she thought her mother couldn’t afford it, especially during her high school years when the trips were abroad to Europe and China, costing thousands of dollars. Huh, turned out she could’ve enrolled at Columbia University instead of City College.
“All that money spent, and you throw it away to be a bodyguard. What a waste.” He shook his head. “You’re better than walking around with a gun on your hip and brawling in the street.”
Her hackles rose. “Just because I’m here having a civil conversation instead of pistol whipping you, don’t press your luck, old man. You have not a single wheel to roll your ass on for you to think you can judge my life. You don’t get to ride into my life at the eleventh hour to lecture me.” Time to go. She felt more like Harvey’s age than her own.
Harvey grabbed onto her hand. “Don’t go.” He wheezed and launched into a coughing fit.
Tempted to yank free, she couldn’t when he was so pathetic. “There’s nothing left to say except thanks for the enlightenment.” She tried to extract herself, but the old man was tenacious. He clung to her, his grip strong despite his age and declining condition.
“She kept me away. Told me you didn’t want to see me,” he pleaded.
It wasn’t true. Six-year-old Calista desperately wanted to see her father. The need didn’t die until she was eleven and found a picture of him and his wife and his five-year-old daughter in Page Six.
“And you believed her because it was easier than asserting your parental rights.”
“Calista,” he snapped, patience gone.
“Admit it. It’s okay. I’m not a broken little girl anymore. Admit it was easy to send a check than be my daddy.” Like you are to Erica.
Decidedly uncomfortable, he pulled her closer. Calista went back to her haunches, allowing the proximity because she didn’t want to miss a single word.
A tear leaked out of the corner of his right eye. “It-It was a different time. People wouldn’t have understood, accepted.”
That was his excuse. After twenty-four years, that was the like he spewed. “It was the nineties, Dad. Not the forties. The nineteen-nineties.” She yanked free and rose above him.
“Old money. Old family. Old ways of thinking. I’ve evolved since then.”
Disgusted, she said, “You give yourself too much credit.”
“I want to atone, Cali,” he whined.
“How is that even possible?” she asked genuinely confused. “You kicked us out of the house, cut me out of your life.”
He shook his balding head. “Not true! Your mother took you and left. I wanted you both to stay.”
“As what? Your maid and the maid’s bastard daughter? We live in the servants’ quarters while you and your trophy wife and perfect daughter live the good life upstairs? My mother cleans your toilets and I get your daughter’s hand-me-downs even though I’m six years older? Were we supposed to wait until you divorced Suzette and kicked her and Erica out to sneak back into your life? Or wait until after you got tired of Jacqueline, your second wife, to include us? How the fuck was that supposed to work?” Way past angry, her tone was flat.
Tears glistened in his rheumy eyes and all she could feel was annoyance.
“Please, let me make it up. Please, Cali, before it’s too late.” He blundered.
She rose and pulled free from his grip. Looking down at the shriveled, husk of the man she remembered, not a single instinct flared for the man who donated twenty-three of his chromosomes. She should be sad, instead, relief swallowed her. She was nothing like him, and would never be.
“It’s not too late for my mother. Whatever delusion she’s lost in, she still loves you. You have that for as long as she’s happy; I won’t stop you from seeing her. But for me, too late passed years ago.”
“Cali! Calico! Calista!”
Her father’s voice echoed all the way to the parking lot.
Chapter 21
Calista rolled up to the hospital to find Julius and Scotts waiting for her in the lobby. He looked fine, walking straighter than when he entered the office. She practically chewed on her tongue to keep the questions at bay as he climbed into the sedan.
Now, she had a different set of what-ifs. What if he chose to not tell her and leave her guessing at his condition? What if things were so bad he didn’t want to share? It would be the work of a moment to breach his confidential files in the hospital. Whether physically, or electronically, she would know the contents of his file by nightfall. If he didn’t start talking soon, she’d have no alternative. And she wouldn’t feel guilty about it.
“My lungs are overexerted. Pulled a muscle in my back, along my rib cage. He prescribed a brace,” he said in a dismissive tone. “Rest. Lay off on the workouts for two weeks. Then check back in.” His tone was matter-of-fact, like he was reporting the weather.
“That’s it?” she asked.
“Physical therapy is a possibility if I’m not better.”
Moving on because she knew when not to beat her head against a brick wall. “What about your pain?”
“Manageable.”
His one-word answer wasn’t enough. Her gaze cut to his to demand more info and found him watching her.
“Tylenol with codeine. It’s less addictive,” he murmured. “How’s your mother?”
“Fine. The same.” Her messy family drama wasn’t something she ever wanted to share.
“Why did you have to rush off?”
“She had a bad night. They’re changing her meds again. My cousin wasn’t available, so I needed to be there, to calm her.”
“That must’ve been difficult.”
He had no idea. Difficult, yet surprisingly easy when eight pounds of emotional weight vanishes.
“I’m sorry, Calista.”
The sincerity in his voice thawed the ice coating her senses. “Thanks,” she said instead of brushing him off.
“Do you have a bathing suit?” He changed the topic.
Her brow quirked. Of course, she had a bathing suit. “Why?”
“One week on Montauk and not once did you take a dip in the ocean. Believe me, I would’ve noticed.”
Not that she wasn’t tempted to strip down, slip into her bikini and take a dip. Two strips of clothing between her nakedness anywhere near Julius wasn’t a good idea. Not that she thought he couldn’t control himself. The problem was, she didn’t want him to control himself. Hence, her clothes stayed on. What happened in London was a one-off, never to be repeated.
Wow. She’d promised to never lie to herself and just broke it.
“Pack a bag. We’re leaving directly after I speak to my brother. If I’m going to be ordered to rest, it’s going to be somewhere tropical after a stop in Vegas.”
* * *
Calista in a bathing suit on a tropical island. Julius’ mind locked on that vision. It would do them good to get out of town and spend time together, and surprise Davien with a visit before his tournament began. Sun, sand, and relaxation between her brown sugar thighs, and maybe some gambling. His phone rang, ending his thoughts about her in his bed permanently. He swiped his thumb without looking at the screen. “Speak.”
“Julius.”
It was a voice he hadn’t heard in a while. “Emmet.”
“I need a favor.”
Julius hadn’t heard Emmet’s voice in nearly a year. He knew Emmet was alive. The man was damn hard to kill, and he didn’t ask for favors. The fact that he was, monumental. And crucial to his survival. Friends since boarding school, there was only one answer Julius could give. “What do you need?”
“Your yacht,” came the cryptic answer.
His yacht? “It’s in Montauk. What about it?”
“Not that vintage piece of shit. Your new yacht that you’ll be taking delivery of in Germany in about two weeks.”
He remembered the yacht he’d commissioned eight months ago. “Yeah. What about it?”
“I need to borrow it.”
Borrow? How could he loan him something he didn’t have. “Why?”
“Need to know, and you don’t need to know.”
Julius snorted. “You called me and it’s my boat.”
“A boat you forgot you had, asshole.”
Only because he was shot, a fact Emmet hadn’t commented on.
“Backup plan if shit goes south,” Emmet tossed out.
Julius wanted to know what shit may go south, but as always, knowing what Emmet was up to, could be detrimental to his health. Just like Harden, which didn’t turn out well. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be there for his friend. “When and where?”
“When, now. Where, Hamburg, on the Elbe. I’ll send you the coordinates.” Dial tone without even a thank you.
“Emmet. Another friend of yours?”
“Hmm.” Emmet was persona non grata.
“Anything I need to be concerned about?” Calista asked.
“Only about packing your suitcase.” Emmet was a black hole no one talked about. Harden was dangerous. Emmet was deadly. Not to his friends, of which Julius was included.
His phone beeped. Speak of the asshole, and he shall appear. It had been over a week since he heard from the fucker and now a message had arrived.
Harden: You available?
Yeah, Julius typed back.
Harden: Beach house. 45 min. No bodyguards. Sending driver.
Julius’ heart raced. This was it. The call he’d waited for. H
is gaze locked onto Calista knowing she wasn’t going to be pleased. “Change of plans.”
Chapter 22
“I don’t care what Harden said,” Calista hissed as a beat-up green Chevy parked in the driveway of the beach house came into view. Shit just got real. “You aren’t going anywhere alone.”
Julius ignored her and that wasn’t acceptable, ever.
“Do you even know where you’re going?” His condescending glare was his answer. Fine! “Do you know what this is about?”
“Yes.” He left it at that. Great, he was going into this with no illusions. She should be pleased. Pleasure wasn’t even close to what coursed through her veins.
“I’m going with you.”
“No. You’re not. Head to the airport. I’ll be there shortly.” Julius exited the Mercedes when it rolled to a stop.
“Trust me. You’re not going to make that flight.” Calista pulled out her phone and rushed to catch up with Julius who was already at the passenger side of the Chevy.
As she thumbed through her contact list, Calista stepped in front of the Chevy. A lackey she’d never met climbed out of the driver’s seat. “Get out of the way.”
“I’m coming with you,” she growled, then sighed when she found Harden’s number.
“Mr. Gage didn’t say anything about a chick tagging along. Now get.” He shooed her as if she were a farm animal. She ignored him, listening to the phone ringing on the other end. “Move it.” He made to push her out of the way.
Calista held up a single finger as the lanky, greasy, cheap suited wannabe gangster strutted up to her. “Don’t.” It was the only warning he would get.
Next thing she knew Julius was in front of her. “Back off.”
Her insides got all warm and fuzzy, but he ruined her “Aw! He’s trying to protect me moment” with his overall stupidity. He needed her protection, not the other way around.
Calista walked around both men and planted her ass in the back seat, legs crossed, hands folded primly in her lap. She was quite comfortable.
Plain Jane and the Billionaire (Plain Jane Series) Page 15