She couldn’t help me with this.
No one could.
* * *
I left one bar and wound up in another.
It was a sports bar right next to my penthouse. The game was shown on every single TV, and groups of friends dined on finger food and beer while they cheered and booed every time the score changed. I was surrounded by social cacophony, but the distraction was welcomed.
I didn’t want to think about my father.
It was nice not to think about anything.
My phone lit up with a text message. I understand if you want to be alone right now, but just tell me you’re alright.
I could hear the concern in her voice even though she didn’t speak. She’d been nothing but good to me, and I wasn’t going to risk losing her by pushing her away. The only thing I should be doing right now was pulling her closer. I’m watching the game at a bar across the street from my place.
Thank you. I’ll talk to you later. Like she said she would, she left me alone.
I wanted to be alone—but I wanted to be alone with her. Where are you?
Home.
I’ll be right there.
Diesel, I understand if you need your space.
I’ve gotten enough space.
I left the cash on the counter and took a cab to her place a few blocks over. I rode the elevator to the top floor then stepped into her living room. She was sitting on the couch dressed in just my t-shirt and her panties. Instead of having another helping of liquor, she had a glass of water on the coffee table.
Without anger or sadness, she looked me over with a soft expression. All she seemed to care about was me, not the way I’d stormed out of the bar a few hours ago. She pulled her knees to her chest and left her laptop on the coffee table. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I fell into the cushion beside her and rested my hand between her thighs. She didn’t exercise regularly anymore, but she still had incredible legs. My fingertips gently massaged her soft skin, feeling the warmth of both of our bodies combined together.
Her makeup had been washed away, so she’d obviously expected me to stay away for the rest of the night. When her foundation was gone, her gorgeous complexion was on display. With a tiny freckle in the corner of her mouth and one right in the center of her right cheek, she was the kind of natural beauty that didn’t exist often. When the mascara and eyeliner were gone, her eyes didn’t stand out as much, but they showcased a deep layer of her soul.
“I’m sorry I stormed out like that.”
“It’s really okay, Diesel.” Her voice as soft as a feather, it floated over my skin and gently caressed me. “We all handle information differently. Nothing to be sorry about.”
“When Thorn said that about my father…I wasn’t sure how to process it. It seems like he always puts our best interest first. I had lunch with him the other day, and he never mentioned his conversation with Thorn…as if he didn’t want the recognition.”
“I think he just wanted to protect Thorn’s privacy.”
“You’re probably right. But even then…he did that for you. He knew it would make you happy, which would make me happy. Slowly, he’s tugging away at my armor and ripping it off piece by piece. Now I’m gradually forgetting all the terrible things he did and focusing on the good… I can’t control it.”
She hooked her arm through mine and placed a kiss on my shoulder. “You want to forgive him.”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “For the past ten years, I’ve hated him. And now that he’s said the right things and done the right things…I don’t hate him anymore.”
“But do you really want to keep hating him?” she whispered.
I stared at the floor. “I don’t know…I just think it’s happened so quickly.”
“But it hasn’t. It’s been months, Diesel. And when it comes to family, you should never hate each other. Vincent did terrible things, but he apologized for them. He’s different now. There’s nothing more he can do. Not once did he ever make excuses for what he did. He owned up to them, apologized, and then moved on. That’s all you can ask for from anyone.”
I continued to stare at the floor, thinking about the last conversation I’d had with my father. “Brett isn’t sure if he can forgive him, but he doesn’t want that to affect my relationship with him.”
“It shouldn’t,” she said in agreement. “Brett is a completely different situation.”
“I still feel like I’m betraying him.”
“You aren’t, Diesel. This is your father. You know your mother would want you to be together, not apart.”
Now that my mother’s ring was sitting in my nightstand, I felt connected to her in a way I hadn’t since she died. It reminded me how much my father loved my mother, how their love was eternal, even now. He’d made a lot of mistakes, but when a man was swallowed up by that kind of grief, there was no telling what he might do. He held a vigil for her in his heart, unable to find love again because it was impossible for him to love another woman besides the one he married. My sympathy had changed my opinion of him, leading to a calm sense of understanding.
Titan rubbed her hand up and down the center of my back. “You want to know what I think?”
I knew she was really asking, offering her advice only if I wanted to hear it. I gave a slight nod.
“I think Vincent is ashamed of who he used to be. I think he’s a different man than you used to know. I think he loves you, and I think he even loves Brett too. If you decided to cut him out of your life for good, you wouldn’t be doing yourself a favor. You wouldn’t be protecting yourself from anyone. And Vincent will have to suffer the rest of his life knowing he has a son he’ll never get to be with. You’re dooming each of you to a bitter and painful existence.”
Titan was the smartest person I knew, and any advice she ever gave was solid. She could remove the emotional part of the situation and stare at it objectively. She could see past the details to the foundation of any given situation. Despite the hard life she’d lived and the ruthless people who’d tried to hurt her, she rose above it and still saw the good in other people. She saw the goodness in my father—because there was something to see.
“But you have to make this decision on your own, Diesel. I can’t make it for you. I’ll stand by whatever choice you make.”
“It’s hard for me to believe we could have a new relationship. So much time has passed, so much heartbreak. But then I look at us now…and we already do have a relationship. It’s tense and uncomfortable, but it’s there. I asked him about Alessia, and he was open with me. He asked me about you…I was open with him. There’s a dialogue…a conversation. There’s something there.”
She ran her fingers through my hair. “And it’s worth fighting for.”
* * *
Brett and I met for lunch at a table with three menus.
He sat down and noticed the third place setting. “Titan coming?”
I ambushed him, using the same technique Titan was known for. “No.”
Brett’s eyebrows slowly rose toward his forehead. “This can’t be good…”
“I invited my father.”
“Because…?”
“I think we should all sit down and talk.”
“Diesel, I told you I didn’t care what you decided to do. But you should respect my wishes as well.”
“And I do,” I said calmly. “But the three of us haven’t been in the same room together in a decade. I think we should see where it goes.”
“You know, I expected this from Titan—but not you.” He crossed his arms over his chest, wearing a black leather jacket with a dark blue V neck underneath.
“I learned from the best.” I tried to keep it lighthearted despite how dramatic the situation was. “He doesn’t know you’re going to be here either. So you’re both equally unprepared.”
His eyes shifted to the right when he spotted something. “Here he is.”
My father walked toward the table, not affected by Brett’s
unexpected presence at all. As if he’d been expecting him the entire time, he greeted us both with a look before he took a seat. He didn’t shake our hands or make any other kind of gesture.
He sat perfectly upright then took a drink from his water glass.
Like any other time I was with my father, it was tense.
Extremely tense.
My father turned his gaze on Brett, paying more attention to him than he did to me. “It’s nice to see you, Brett.”
All Brett gave was a nod.
I’d brought all three of us together, but I wasn’t sure what to do now. “The three of us haven’t had a conversation together in…a really long time. I thought we could talk, maybe clear the air.”
Brett stared at his menu.
My father kept looking at him.
I stared at both of them. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“I recently bought one of your cars, the new edition of the Bullet.” My father removed his phone from his pocket and pulled up a picture. It was dark gray and sleek, a brand-new version of the car I’d bought just a few months ago. “It’s smooth. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve hit ninety before I’m even off the ramp and onto the highway.” He set the phone next to Brett so it was easily visible.
Brett shifted his gaze to the screen and stared it for several minutes, probably noticing slight details no one else picked up on. “She’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
Brett returned the phone.
My father slid it back into his pocket. “I bought her last week. She’s sitting in my garage along with the rest of my collection, but I think she might be my favorite. For a luxury car, she has something special the others lack. It’s not just the engine, but the whole experience. The sound system is the highest quality I’ve ever seen—and that’s saying something because I own a lot of cars.” It didn’t seem like he was sucking up to Brett, just talking about something they had in common.
Brett didn’t remain stubborn for long. “Thank you. I take great pride in my work.”
“It shows.” Vincent picked up the menu and scanned it despite the heaviness in the room. “Are you working on anything else?”
“I’m taking a break, actually,” Brett said. “I spent a long time designing that model. Need some time to come up with new ideas.”
“Understandable.” My father looked at me. “What are you getting, Diesel?”
I hadn’t even looked at the menu yet. I picked something at random. “The Cobb.”
My father looked relaxed in his chair, taking control of an awkward conversation with a noticeable level of class. It wasn’t surprising that he was so persuasive when he could handle difficult conversations like this. “I think I’ll get the same. What about you, Brett?”
“I’m not a salad kinda guy. I’m getting a steak.”
My father wore a slight smile. “Excellent choice.” He set his menu down just when the waiter came over. We all ordered our drinks and food, and we were alone once more shortly afterward. My father rested his elbows on the armrests and brought his fingertips together, still looking casual. “How’s business?”
“It usually picks up around this time of year,” Brett said. “You know, the holidays.”
My father nodded in understanding.
“Come January, it’ll be slow,” Brett said. “That’s when I usually go on vacation.”
“Where are you traveling to?” Vincent asked.
“Hawaii,” Brett answered. “Where they don’t have blizzards.”
My father nodded in agreement. “Taking anyone along?”
“Yeah.” Brett didn’t elaborate on the guest list. He didn’t talk about his personal life much, not even to me. Women came and went, sexy flings that he enjoyed. He’d been looking for the right woman for a long time, but she’d never come along. Women like Titan didn’t grow on trees. “What about you?”
“What about me?” my father asked.
“Taking any trips soon?” Brett asked.
“No,” my father answered. “I usually spend the holidays alone. After the new year, I might jet off to somewhere with a warmer climate, but I haven’t made plans this year. A woman I’m seeing asked me to spend the holidays with her and her family in Milan. I declined.”
I never wondered what my father did over the holidays. I usually spent them with Brett. I guess my father spent them alone.
Brett was obviously surprised Vincent had told him something somewhat personal. His eyebrows were furrowed. “Not serious, then?”
“No,” my father said quickly. “None of them is. I usually stop by the cemetery early in the morning. Christmas used to be special to your mother and me. We would each find each other a special ornament, and we would exchange it Christmas morning. So I bring her one every year.” Despite how incredibly sad the story was, he didn’t flinch. His voice remained perfectly steady, completely emotionless.
I’d gone to the cemetery on Christmas before. I’d noticed a glass ornament with an angel inside. I’d assumed one of my mother’s friends had stopped by. It didn’t seem like something my father would bring. Since I never saw him visit, I just assumed he never went. I guessed I was wrong.
I used to see my father as a large brute without a single feeling. Now I realized he was emotionally complicated, carrying a web of different heartaches and feelings. Just because he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve didn’t mean he wasn’t sensitive and loving. He remained rigid and strong like every man should be, but beneath that hard exterior, he was just a fragile as the rest of us.
Brett obviously hadn’t been expecting that either, because he stared at him in complete silence.
After the silence stretched on for nearly a minute, Vincent broke it. “I think about you a lot, Brett. Probably doesn’t seem like it, but I do. When I read headlines about you in the papers, it makes me happy to know you’re doing so well. You’re very well respected in the industry.”
Brett stilled at the comment, processing it slowly. Then he finally nodded, clearing his throat at the same time. “Thanks…”
“Your mother would be proud of both of you,” Vincent said confidently. “Not so much of me…but that’s something I’ll have to deal with later.” He didn’t wear his wedding ring even though he spoke like he was still married. I wondered if he said the same thing to his lovers. He was so rich and good-looking that they probably didn’t care.
“Yeah,” I added. “I think she would be too.”
Now Brett looked at Vincent, no longer as guarded as before.
“I know you guys don’t owe me anything, but it would mean a lot to me if the two of you met up with Jax. The three of you shouldn’t have been separated to begin with. I know it would mean a lot to him as well.”
“He wants to talk to us?” Brett asked.
“Of course he does,” Vincent answered. “His only hesitance is me. He thinks you don’t have a high opinion of him since he took my side…”
I’d never held it against Jax. I knew the situation was complicated.
“I don’t feel that way,” Brett said. “I’d like to see him.”
“Yeah?” Vincent asked. “I’ll let him know. Maybe the three of you could get a drink…catch up.”
We spent the rest of the lunch making small talk about work and sports. The conversation never truly relaxed, but it wasn’t unnerving either. My father managed to keep it smooth, using his special skills in language to keep the conversation flowing. No subject would ever be strong enough to detract from the reality of our situation.
Toward the end, Brett eyed his watch. “I’ve got to get going. I’ve got a meeting.” He rose from his chair and pulled some cash from his wallet. He set it on the table in preparation for the bill that hadn’t come yet. “I’ll see you later, Diesel.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, wondering if he would say anything to my father.
He looked at Vincent next, drawing a blank as to what to say next.
My father rose to his feet an
d extended his hand. “It’s always a pleasure seeing you, Brett. I hope I see more of you.”
I thought Brett wasn’t going to take his hand because he didn’t even raise his arm. He stared at my father’s outstretched greeting as he considered it, not moving. Then he did the unexpected and placed his hand in his. “Yeah. Maybe.”
They shook hands.
And then Brett walked out.
My father sat back down, looking forward with eyes filled with heavy thoughts.
I wasn’t sure what I’d just witnessed, the beginning of a reconciliation or mere politeness.
My father drank his iced tea then checked his watch. He must not have anywhere important to be because he continued to sit there with his legs crossed and his elbows on the armrests. When the waiter brought the check, my father didn’t immediately reach for it, and neither did I. We weren’t doing the check dance, but paying the bill didn’t seem urgent right now.
I expected he had something to say. I could feel it in the air between us. It was a sixth sense I had from growing up with a father like him. I picked up on his quiet moods, his slight shift in atmosphere.
“I know you did that for me, Diesel. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.” He didn’t look directly at me, which was unusual for him because he constantly maintained eye contact. But now he focused his gaze elsewhere. “I think there’s hope for us. When I sit with him, I don’t feel the sense of hatred I used to feel. Like his mother, he’s far too compassionate to feel that way for long.”
“I don’t think he ever hated you,” I said quietly. “I think he just wanted to be loved as much as Jax and I were. He said that’s what hurt him the most.”
My father closed his eyes briefly, swallowing the words like acid. They clearly affected him, making his straight physique seem slightly crooked. “Goddammit.” He said the curse quietly, under his breath, so I could barely hear it.
“But you’re right. I think he’s coming around.”
“And I know you wouldn’t have done that unless you were coming around too.” He turned his head and directed his gaze on me, staring at me with those customary dark eyes. His face was a mirror of my future, my appearance when time caught up to me. “Are you?”
Boss Romance: Boss #6 Page 14