There are three of them. Built-ins. I doubt this is the extent of his paperwork. Dennis came from the dawning digital era, when paper copies reigned supreme.
“I searched our master bedroom closet before you came here.” Diana folds her hands in front of her. Fine lines on her face threaten to emerge under her stress. “It’s a shoebox. I haven’t opened it yet. I couldn’t…”
She turns her face away and bites her lower lip. My normal skepticism doesn’t arise. She’s afraid to look in the box. “It’s been so easy to fool myself that Dennis really wasn’t that guy I first met. To fool myself that just because he left it behind meant no one got hurt. I’m sorry.”
I assume she’s apologizing to London until she pins me with a watery gaze. “I’m so sorry.”
Shock is a vise around my chest. She’s apologizing? She should hate me. I forced her daughter to marry me and used her past to do it.
London’s at the desk, her gaze jumping between us. She doesn’t say anything. This is between me and Diana.
I manage a curt nod and turn to the filing cabinet. I don’t need Diana’s sympathy.
But as I randomly flip through files that my empty gaze isn’t registering, I know that’s not exactly right. I might not need Diana’s sympathy. But that kid who lost his parents and was left without anyone who gave a shit clings to her apology.
* * *
London
Jacobi starts with the filing cabinet. I sit in Dad’s chair for the first time in… ever. This was Dad’s office. I sat across from this desk and talked to him countless times. I used to play with my dolls on the floor by the filing cabinets that Jacobi is pilfering.
Several minutes go by and I get nothing done but stare at the clean top of the desk. There’s a stapler, a three-hole punch, and a clear bin full of paperclips. Dad’s computer used to sit in the middle, but Diana took it to her Natural Glow office when it glitched. She had IT fix it and we made it Natural Glow property. I’ve even used it.
That was hard.
This is worse.
A shadow falls over me a second before a large hand rubs my back. “Are you okay?”
There are no tears to blink away. There would’ve been before all this happened. But with everything I’ve learned about Dad since I met Jacobi, I’m confused. “I will be. I wasn’t prepared for the emotions that searching through his stuff was going to bring up.”
He kneels next to my chair. “You don’t have to help. Go out and let Diana distract you. She might need it, too.”
I appreciate his consideration. I don’t know what he’s hiding that makes him think he’s a horrible person, but it’s either really bad, or just… situational. I don’t care right now. “I think we need to do this. I’ll be okay.” I swivel in the chair to pull him in for a quick kiss. “I want to know about my dad.”
“What if what you learn will taint his memory?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “That ship’s sailed. I have to learn how to separate all the different parts of him. Seedy businessman. Doting father. Devoted husband—the second time around. I loved my dad. But Dennis Vanderbeek is a little iffy.”
Diana clears her throat. Jacobi and I whip our heads toward her. She’s holding a clear bin, her expression pained. “I, um… I think I need to do the same. The Dennis Vanderbeek I met was a changed man, or at the very least in the process of changing. But before… the younger me might’ve still been all over him. The current me…” She lifts a shoulder and sets the bin down. “It’s a process, London. You’re not alone.”
She disappears back down the hall, presumably to get more of Dad’s stuff.
I smile to let Jacobi know that I’m okay. “We’d better get to work.”
He peers into my eyes, needing more confirmation. I solidify myself so he can see it’s true. I appreciate his protection, I don’t need it in all things. I just need his company as I’m going through my father’s true past. Satisfied with what he sees, he rises and goes to the filing cabinet.
I take a deep but silent breath and open the middle desk drawer. Like I expect, nothing but pens. Plain old Bics mixed with a few fancier ones. The corner of my mouth tips up when I come across a Mont Blanc mingling with the rest like it’s a five-dollar Office Depot purchase. He liked quality. He liked designer brands. But mostly, he valued function over anything else.
Why, Dad?
I don’t find anything other than more writing utensils and notepads. There’s an extra cable that likely belonged to some past computer or printer.
Next, I go for the top drawer and methodically search through its contents. Everything is Natural Glow based.
Diana comes over and points to the drawer opposite the one I’m digging in. “That’s where I put all of his legal things after his funeral, like life insurance and copies of his will.” She pats my shoulder. “I didn’t want it to catch you off-guard.”
“Thank you.” I’ll save that drawer for last.
She positions herself on the floor and digs into a bin. The pile she pulls out are pictures. Old ones.
She glances over and catches my eye. “Maybe we should go through these together?”
I hate to dump more work on Jacobi, but I don’t recognize these pictures. Jacobi looks over his shoulder and lifts his chin toward Diana.
I don’t have high hopes that we’ll find anything in the desk anyway. I make myself comfortable on the floor next to her.
Diana sticks her hand inside the bin to grab another stack, but she pauses. “I don’t know what’s in some of these.” She draws her arm back and folds her hands together. “You know how he talked to us about his parents and growing up, but never gave us many details?”
I nod. Dad was older when he had me. He’d lived a whole life. I got the impression he didn’t like talking about it, and other than a few innocent questions about our heritage, I didn’t ask. When I did, there was never enough information to make me curious to know more.
I suspect now that he did that on purpose.
“When we moved here…” She purses her lips. “When we moved in here and he dug these out of his old house, he said he was going to throw them in a corner and they wouldn’t see light until we moved again. He said they were full of bad memories. I know it sounds trite, but I didn’t ask for information. I…I think I knew he was hiding stuff in his past, and I feared that speaking of it would resurrect it. We were both in such a good place. We had you. I… stayed ignorant on purpose. Please know that whatever we find, if we find anything, it’s going to be new to me, too.”
I grab her and squeeze. We both nod at each other, like we’re giving the signal to storm a building.
She picks up the first pile of pictures. They’re the older ones, not black and white, but they’re square with a thick white border.
“Is that him as a kid?” I lean closer. There’re two boys. She flips it over. Dennis and Don is written in scrawling writing. “He said he had an older brother that died in his thirties. I guess that wasn’t a lie.”
The whole bin is picture after picture of my dad’s childhood. He’d shown me pictures of my grandparents before, but they were formal ones and still on the mantle in the living room. These were the informal ones. Birthday parties. Vacations. Holidays.
There’s none of my uncle or my dad beyond their teenage years.
“They’re wearing the same clothes in so many of them,” Diana murmurs.
“I didn’t notice.” I flip through several pictures.
Yes. The same clothes. Uncle Don would be wearing an outfit and then another stack would show that Dad was wearing those same clothes. I pay more attention to the surroundings and the vehicle. The old vehicle didn’t catch my attention until I paired it with the decade of the photos. It would be like my childhood photos having a Pinto in them.
“They were poor.” I don’t know why I’m shocked. Don’t people who grew up poor talk about it at all when they make millions as an adult?
“I guess that explains his drive. H
is most hated word was budget.” Diana stretches her arms above her head and looks toward the window as if it’s a clock. “Are you two hungry?”
Jacobi and I ate hours ago. My stomach hears the question first and rumbles. After being back with him, my appetite has come roaring back.
Love does that.
I swallow hard. It’s hard to deny, but I’ve fallen in love with him. If he feels the same, I doubt he’s ready to admit it, and now’s not the time. I turn my attention back to dinner. “You don’t have to fix anything for us.”
“I’ll order in. Sushi and egg rolls?” It’s one of our go-to late-night orders.
“That macadamia nut roll?”
Diana gracefully rises to her feet and grins. “Of course. Double order.” She faces Jacobi, her posture more rigid. “What would you like?”
He’s on the third drawer of the second cabinet. There’s a two-inch stack of papers at his feet. “Whatever London’s having is fine with me.”
“Even if it’s deep-fried?” I tease and Diana’s brows pinch together. “He’s a clean food freak.”
She smiles. “Well, I guess if that’s the worst of it…” Her eyes widen. Jacobi stiffens.
I laugh, both to break the tension and because the irony is hilarious. “I guess we know it’s not.”
Jacobi shoots me a playful scowl over his shoulder. Diana’s nervous chuckle is enough to break the tension.
“I’ll triple our normal. I have to grab my phone.”
I could’ve used mine but I think she needs space after seeing pictures of the past her husband didn’t share with her. I don’t want that for my future, but Jacobi needs time.
I wander over to him. “What have you found?”
He shakes his head. “Some old forms that look like failed business ventures. I’ll look into the people involved and see what they’re up to.”
Good plan.
Diana comes back and we search through more pictures. The next plastic tub we open has my baby pictures. Jacobi stops and looks over from the filing cabinet but doesn’t sit with us.
I’m cooing over my preschool photos with Diana when her phone buzzes. She hits the code to open the gate. “I’ll go meet them at the door.”
“I’ll help.” I need to stretch and I’m starving. I could scarf down a whole roll before it makes it back to the office.
When Diana opens the door, she jumps. “Goodness. You scared me.”
I step behind her to see. Roland’s on the doorstep. Danielson is behind him.
Chapter 19
Jacobi
Diana’s words make it back to the office. She doesn’t sound like she’s talking to a delivery person.
I inch toward the door. A deep voice. London greeting guests.
Who’s at the door? Her tone is more familiar than she normally is with a delivery person, but it’s not overly friendly.
I tread out of the office, skirting down the hall.
“I wasn’t expecting company.” Diana’s voice filters down the hall. “London and I already ordered food.”
“I came over to help her sort through some of Dad’s things.” London’s words aren’t full of warmth. She doesn’t like the intrusion. “A girl’s night.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. Danielson and I figured you two still need to eat.”
Danielson. The man talking must be Roland. How convenient. Diana told him it’d just be her and London tonight and here he is—with his son.
I pause at the end of the hallway where they can’t see me. They don’t know that I’m here, and I want to know what they say when they think I’m not close enough to listen.
Did Diana plan this? Is that why she had to leave to order the food?
The doorbell rings. I want to be out there before the women are surprised with more unknown guests, but I hear the door open.
The delivery.
“I guess we’re too late.” Danielson’s cultured voice breaks through and I hate him on principle.
“Put it in the fridge.” Roland boasts his idea like it’s a novelty to save massive amounts of food. “London, did you get a new car?”
“No, I’m here with…” I tense, waiting for how she’s going to finish. “I’m here with Jacobi. Jacobi Dixon.”
Satisfaction warms my chest. I round the corner. She’s standing by the door, her hands full of bags of food. Roland and his son are dressed like they’re going to hit the golf course while I look like I’m going to the beach after this. The savory smells hit me, and I want the men gone just so I can enjoy a nice meal with my wife—with London.
“Jacobi?” Roland mumbles. Danielson stands straighter when he sees me.
“London’s… friend.” Diana chews her lip and drags her gaze from me to Roland. “Remember?”
Ah. I see someone violated the NDA. At least there won’t be intrusive questions. Roland must know exactly who I am—and he can pass that info onto his son. If he hasn’t already. Which I’m inclined to believe since he swooped in after our divorce.
I cross to London and relieve her of the packages. “Um, this is Jacobi Dixon.”
I go for charming versus territorial. I don’t like how Danielson is hovering near London, but a pissing contest isn’t going to be productive. He’s no longer London’s type, but I’ve already been in the villain position. I don’t want to reinforce it. “You must be the Roland I’ve heard so much about.”
I stick out my free hand. Roland’s trimmed gray eyebrows lift as he assesses me. But there’s an underlying tension I can’t read. Anxiety? That’s it. He’s glancing from Diana to London, to Danielson, but his gaze falters when it comes to my turn. My presence unnerves him.
He gives me a firm shake, finally meeting my eyes for a brief second. I shift my hand to Danielson, using the opportunity to study him while maintaining a congenial smile. He’s doing the same. His handshake is a firm squeeze. Unlike Roland’s, his palms are dry, his demeanor calm. But his eyes are a swirl of recognition and something else… something darker.
He doesn’t like me. If I didn’t know him better, I’d guess it was visceral hatred. But we’ve never met.
Does he have it that bad for London already? I can understand the feeling, but his hostility seems misplaced.
“Roland Blanchard. This is my son, Danielson. He’s thinking of moving here from NYC.” Roland appraises me. His brow drops as he tries to reconcile whatever Diana’s told him with my board shorts and T-shirt. Danielson stuffs his hands in his slacks and rocks on his expensive loafers.
He thinks he has the upper hand because of how he’s dressed. He’s in it to win it and that prize is London. These guys are trying to get a mother-daughter package—a package that’s worth millions.
Roland and Danielson have climbed to the top of my list to research.
And monitoring Diana. Does she support her boyfriend? Is she Team Danielson?
“Why don’t you go, Diana?” London suggests.
Diana’s smile isn’t the relieved one I’m expecting. “Are you sure? I was enjoying our cleaning spree.”
Interesting. Diana would rather hang out with London, even if I’m around. Could she possibly be on Team Jacobi? Or did she catch Danielson’s flash of irritation when London expressed that she was staying?
“I can save the pictures for when you get back. There’s plenty to go through.”
Roland puts his arm around Diana. “We can always take a rain check, my dear.”
“I hate to have you and Danielson come all the way over here to surprise me for nothing.” If Diana’s genuine and not trying to set up London with Danielson, I can see why Dennis got away with everything. Diana’s at the mercy of the men in her life, wanting to please them.
She shut me down in a hot minute as soon as she and London reconciled. I’m not a man in her life. With Roland, she bends over backward and hides her true feelings. And it seems Roland takes advantage of it.
“Go ahead,” London assures her. “It’s okay.”
; “I’ll go change.” She rushes off.
I lift the food bags from London’s hands. “Want me to fix you a plate?”
She gives me a grateful smile. The invite was just for her, a clear message that it’d just be me and London tonight in case the guys have any more helpful ideas. “No, I’ll be right there. But thanks.”
What if she met Danielson before me? He’s the type she convinced herself she should like and that her dad would like. The guy appears too much like her father, well-to-do and self-centered. I doubt they’re strong enough to let her be herself. But underneath it all, he was probably a decent guy, not one hell-bent on revenge.
Not for the first time, I wish I hadn’t made that phone call all those years ago.
But then I wouldn’t have known about London.
I set the bags on the counter and quietly unpack the containers.
London turns into the kitchen and Danielson’s right behind her.
“Smells good,” he says. London’s back is to him. Only I can see her roll her eyes.
“It is good. You’ll have to eat from there before you go back.” Not the invite he’s probably looking for.
“New York is less appealing the longer I’m out here.”
I slide my gaze to look at Danielson out of the corner of my eye. Did he seriously just flirt with my wife? I don’t give a flat fuck that we’re not married anymore. But the ball’s in London’s court. I won’t go all Cro-Magnon man.
She lays out two plates, another attempt to send a message that he’s not welcome while she’s being polite. “The weather is a strong selling point. Is your work that easy to move?”
He gives the most arrogant shrug I’ve ever seen. A smug expression remains on his face. “I can work anywhere in the world. But I prefer to work around people I enjoy being around. What do you do for work, Jake?”
His sudden subject change catches me off-guard. I almost answer with my standard prattle of owning my own cybersecurity company. But with men like Danielson, information is power and I don’t want to give him any.
Redeemed: Ruined and Redeemed Duet - Book 2 Page 16