Single Dad’s Fake Fiancée: A Cowboy Romance

by King, Imani

  Chapter 21

  Miles

  Never had my anger kept me from sleeping.

  Tonight I might get an hour here or there. I wasn’t going to be well rested. I thrAshd around in bed and thought about trying to talk things out with Destiny.

  I didn’t know what there was to talk about though.

  My thoughts were complete chaos. I should have just sold that land long ago, just to get Vivian out of Ashley’s and my life.

  I could imagine the venom she was telling Ashley, polluting her five-year-old mind with who knows what images about Destiny. I doubt she could even comprehend what a stripper was. Had Vivian told Ashley that she wouldn’t see Daddy again?

  No. I couldn’t let that happen.

  I loved my land. I wanted it to be a home, something for generations, like it had been already.

  It was just land though. At the end of the day, it was dirt with a piece of paper declaring that I owned it.

  First thing in the morning, I was out, and into my car. I’d already scheduled an emergency appointment with my lawyer. I needed to sort this out A.S.A.P.

  I didn’t have time to check in with Destiny, not as much as I wanted to.

  The silence of the drive though and some Corbett Crossing on the radio helped give me time to think about everything that was going on.

  I didn’t give the remotest damn in the world she was a stripper. I didn’t meet her as a stripper, so in my eyes, she wasn’t.

  If what she told me was true though, well, I understood even more. I knew I was privileged. Doors were opened for me. I had parents who loved me, who didn’t abandon me. It wasn’t just the money. I had won the jackpot of life in so many ways. God, thaty party yesterday alone was living, breathing proof.

  Destiny wasn’t as lucky. So she used the assets God had given her. She was beautiful. I can’t hold it against her. It’s no different than some naturally strong man making it as a farmhand or a miner. Society just demonizes one and not the other, so I can completely see why she thought I would care.

  Destiny was Destiny. Brooke, Lowell, Jacob-Jingerheimer Schmidt, I didn’t give a crap.

  It was the lies. Maybe I would have taken a more measured approach, instead of seeing her as a solution to a problem, and a method of extreme courtship.

  If she told me she was a stripper up front, maybe I wouldn’t have given her all the time in the world.

  But I did.

  I saw a generous and kind woman with solid motherly instincts already developed despite never carrying a child herself.

  I saw someone creative and loving, who inspired happiness in my daughter. Someone who was truly worthy of the title of ‘Mommy’.

  I saw someone who made me feel things I never felt before. Love, passion, lust, whatever it was, I wanted more of it.

  I wanted Destiny.

  Soon enough, I reached my lawyer’s office. I barged in, sat in the leather chair, and got down to business.

  “Tom, what are our options,” I said. “Your brilliant mind must have thought have something to get me out of this.”

  He leaned back in his chair. He sighed. “No, I haven’t.”

  “What do you mean you haven’t? Isn’t this what I pay you for?”

  “Miles, I’m a lawyer, not a miracle worker. This gambit you wanted to pull was good, but Vivian’s team went around and turned your strength into a glaring weakness.”

  “Seriously, the stripper thing? What does that matter? It’s a job, it’s legal.”

  “Judge Taylor is highly conservative. And Vivian’s legal team really did a character assassination with this, painting you as unbalanced because of it, that you’re just out of nowhere marrying some girl you saw taking her clothes off in Vegas.”

  “I was going to hire her as a maid.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Vivian has played her cards expertly. Your hand comes down to a stripper being suddenly thrust into the role of mommy. Vivian’s hand is the long suffering woman who, after five and a half years, finally realizes that her lover and the father of her child is never going to make an honest woman of her. Who would you go with? She has already won over the judge and we don’t know what academy award scene she is going to pull on the stand.”

  I grunted. “What do you expect me to do then?”

  “Give her what she wants or you’ll never see your daughter again.”

  “Are you threatening me? Did she pay you off too?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Miles. I thought you told me she was the one who was into conspiracies.”

  I grumbled. “I’m sorry. This is all just so sudden.”

  “You were prepared to sell anyway, if the decision went against you.”

  “I know. I just thought I could win this. Letting Vivian get her way just sickens me.”

  He shook his head. “I know it’s tough on you. These lawsuits are rarely about who is actually best for the child. More often they come down to who plays legal chess better.”’

  I hated when he was right. The whole thing was a farce.

  “Draw up the papers, then. I guess this is our only option.”

  Chapter 22

  Miles

  It wouldn’t be so terrible without the ranch. It did put me financially ahead. I’d be able to find someplace else for us to live and keep our horses. Best of all, we would finally be free of Vivian and her venom.

  Those long drives to and from Cheyenne had taught me that family, whether by blood or by choice, was more important than anything. I wanted Ashley to be happy.

  I wanted to be happy.

  I wanted Destiny. That, and I wanted her to be happy too.

  There was an odd relief to have come to a decision, even if things hadn’t gone my way.

  I pulled my car into the garage. I was going to go directly to Destiny and tell her how I felt. Then I was going to go down on one knee and legitimately propose to her. Not just marriage, but a life together.

  I ran up the stairs and my heart started to sink. Something felt off.

  I opened the door to her room. No one was in there, and her stuff was gone too.

  My fingers started to ball up. No. “Destiny?” I called out and hoped she was still somewhere in the house.

  I ran down the stairs, looking for any evidence. Maybe a note.

  There was nothing. I staggered about, loathing myself. I should have said something sooner. I shouldn’t have given into my anger last night.

  I ran back to her room. Why? Maybe I was just going crazy and she was still there.

  No, I was frustrated but sane. The room was still empty.

  I face-planted myself onto her pillow.

  I took in the scent of her perfume, the one Vivian described as trashy. I really did love it. It was subtle, not overpowering, but it was distinctly her. A scent that made her unique in the sea of other women who would overpower you with their presence.

  For a time, I just laid there, enjoying it, knowing that the remnants would soon fade away for good.

  No.

  No, I would not accept her leaving my life. I needed to find her.

  I called her phone number.

  No response. Of course she wouldn’t pick up. After last night, she probably thought I loathed her, blamed her for everything that’s happened. I had hoped that maybe she could see it as Vivian’s games, but she wasn’t fluent with this high class world of cats paws and legal battles.

  I thought for a moment. Shawna. After a quick text message to Christian I had her number. She was really close with Destiny. I had to hope that she would know where she was.

  Dialing the number, I held onto hope she would pick up. It was early in the evening.

  “Hello?” The voice said.

  “Is this Shawna?”

  “Yeah. Who’s this?”

  “This is Miles.”

  The line went dead. I redialed. It went to voice mail. I couldn’t help myself. I called and called again. And again.

  I knew the power of persistence.
<
br />   “What the fuck do you want?” She said, finally answering.

  “Jesus, I just want to know what’s going on.”

  “Don’t play stupid with me, Miles Corbett. You know exactly what you did.”

  “What did I do?”

  “You broke Destiny’s heart.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Why would I tell you that? So you can go and hurt her again?”

  “I’m worried about her. I love her, Shawna. I’m more sure of that than ever. I need to let her know that. I want to apologize.”

  I closed my eyes, I now saw Destiny’s crushed expression. It was the look of a woman who felt naked and alone, and most importantly, unloved.

  She wasn’t unloved. Ashley loved her. I loved her. I needed to tell her that.

  “You really think you can convince me with some sweet words? That woman has done so much for me, put her life on the line, and you’re asking me to sell her out?”

  “Wait, what do you mean by the fact that she put her life on the line?”

  “When my child went missing, she took out a loan. She used that money to help me find him.”

  God, her story. She had told me the absolute truth. About her debts, and why she agreed to spy on me. “I know what’s she’s done, Shawna. And all of this is just making me more worried about her. She disappeared from my home without telling me anything. All I want to do is to hear her voice and know she’s okay. May I at least have that?”

  She was silent for a time, only her breathing letting me know that she hadn’t hung up on me. “I’m worried too. She took off on me after briefly telling me what happened with you. Like she had something urgent to do.”

  “That urgency is what scares me. Do you know where she works? Where she owes this loan she took out?”

  “Why, what are you going to do?”

  “If I can’t have Destiny, I figure at least I can apologize to her in some other way.”

  “Fucking rich guys...” She sighed. “You got pen and paper or something to write shit down?”

  I scrambled to find anything that would function as such. I stepped on something and stumbled over it. Ashley’s Magna-Doodle. What the heck was it doing in here? I swear that girl loses her toys in the strangest places.

  It was, however, something I could write with, if vastly inappropriate for the gravity of the situation. “I’m set. Hit me with it,” I told Shawna, ready to use a toy to find my beloved.

  Chapter 23

  Destiny

  I never intended to come back to Los Vegas. If ever in Los Vegas, I hoped I would never return to this godforsaken place. Yet here I was. It felt like yesterday.

  The heavy bass music thudded against my ears as I walked through the halls. The smell of stale liquor, acted like a dose of anti-nostalgia.

  I figured I had a long shot to make things right. I knew Miles would never want me, but if I could save his land and daughter from Vivian, I might be able to live with myself.

  Even though I was unsure what the value of living without Miles might be.

  My window to act was small. I knew Bruce always arrived late. The staff got there early, warmed up the grills, and made sure that the floors and private rooms weren’t too abhorrent. Apparently even a strip club had standards.

  I knew that Bruce hadn’t loaned me the money as a personal favor. No, he was pure loan shark. But why did he care whether Miles sold his land or not?

  That was the connection I had to find. Something must tie him to Vivian or Quinn North-West Services. They had used me as a pawn in their game, now I wanted to know who was shoving me across the board.

  At the end of the day, organized crime is a business like any other. You’re taking risks to turn a profit, and this often requires skillful bookkeeping. There had to be payments, e-mails, or something else that would link them if I was to find evidence of collusion.

  Sure, I might testify that I was part of some conspiracy, but I wasn’t the most reliable of witnesses right now. They’d be quick to write me off as some crazy slut who wanted her sugar daddy back.

  I did want my sugar daddy back, but not because he was a sugar daddy.

  I found Bruce’s desk. He was an old fashioned kind of guy who didn’t trust the internet. He thought that the cops waited all over the web ready to hack him as soon as they had the slightest reason to. So he kept paper records whenever he could, thinking these papers were safely stored in drawers or vaults with physical locks. Locks could be picked. It was actually easier than hacking.

  Or forget to be locked all together.

  I was surprised when I pulled and this drawer came out, The first three hadn’t budged. I don’t know why I thought him stupid enough to leave one unlocked, but he had. Score one point for a low estimation of Bruce.

  Condom wrappers, gum wrappers, fast food wrappers, it was the desk of a slob but his clutter had served as camouflage. There was a folder buried underneath.

  It was this year’s ledgers. I looked over them. It covered legitimate income of the money the club brought in. There were notes in the margin on how to properly inflate it so that they could ease in other income that wasn’t so legitimate.

  Of course they were laundering.

  There were columns that weren’t about liquor, sales, or wages or tips.

  ‘Consulting’. What did that mean?

  Consulting for a pizza joint. Consulting for a potato farm. Consulting for a representative in Idaho. Why these people should consult with a strip club owner wasn’t entirely obvious, but I had a strong inkling of why.

  Then I saw it.

  Quinn North West Services. Jackpot. Fifty thousand dollars. It seemed meager for the money that had been thrown around recently, but Bruce was always at his heart a slumlord. This money had been given to Private Investigator services to look into Miles Corbett. They used legal language. ‘Take account of the owner’s holdings and determine adequate compensation for his property.’ I noticed an aggressively feminine handwriting, one that used little hearts to dot the I’s and filigreed Fs. I read the notation.

  “Miles does quite enjoy women with a bit of something in the back if you know what I mean. Mine was never good enough for him. Give him that and he’ll give you anything.”

  I shook my head. My ass was both an asset and a curse, I supposed.

  This was what I needed though. Cooperation, intent, and something clearly illegal. If there was one of these events in QNWS’s history, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had more. I’m sure some state prosecutor would just love to sink his teeth into this sort of thing.

  “You know I don’t like assholes behind my desk,” an exaggerated accent pulled me up short.

  I froze in place, still holding the documents.

  Bruce.

  “What the hell are you doing back here, Destiny? You did your job. You decide you miss stripping?”

  “The deal is off, Bruce.”

  He rubbed his chin. “How do you figure? Everything’s fallen into place. You’ve done your part. You should be as proud as a slut like you can be and walk away from all of this.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. My palms were damp and I made an effort not to show I was startled by his sudden appearance. “I can’t do this to Miles. I’m giving these files to the authorities.”

  “I wouldn’t try to walk out of my office with those papers, Destiny. I don’t like having to deal with people who won’t follow instruction. It makes for a messy business. Don’t make me deal with you.”

  “Messy, like what?” I skirted around the desk and headed towards the door.

  “You really don’t want to know.” He blocked my path. “What’s this all for? Some rich fuck and his ranch? Why the fuck do you care?”

  “Land can be more than just land, Bruce. It can be a home. It can be something meant for family.”

  “So you’re not going along with this, huh?”

  “I don’t matter, Bruce. But I can’t watch an innocent man being robbed of what he holds d
ear.”

  “Sorry you feel that way, Dest. But business is business. Regrets have nothing to do with business.”

  “Who are you talking to?”

  “Leonard, we got loose ends to tie up again.”

  “Who the fuck is Leonard?” I said, raising an eyebrow, turning around, and then there was a thwomp!

  My head jerked. Then nothing.

  Only it was a painful nothing.

  Chapter 24

  Miles

  With one quick call I had arranged for my charter plane to take me to Vegas. I made sure I had brotherly backup when I arrived four hours later. I didn’t have time to wait around for a flaky cab, or stand in line to rent a car.

  I rushed through the Los Vegas airport, looking for Ash’s distinct lime green Lamborghini. Corbetts don’t excessively flaunt their wealth... most of the time, anyway. Ash must have decided he wanted the coolest car possible in the stupidest color he could imagine. Then he texted me that he’d rented our wheels.

  All I cared at that moment was that the thing ran and would get us around.

  “Miles, ya made it buddy!” Ash gave me a smile.

  Dustin, another of my cousins, gestured for a high five. I took it, and he pulled me close in a hug. “I’m worried. I work fast when I’m worried.”

  How could Ash think a lime green sports car was less conspicuous than a limousine?

  I climbed in, and the duo of Brothers took to the front seat, and pulled off onto the road almost immediately.

  “So, wait,’ Ash started. “Destiny was a stripper?”

  “What does that matter, Ash?” I glared at him off of the rear view mirror.

  “I don’t know man. That makes her hotter. You got a hot piece of ass and the whole world can know it? They can look but only you can touch.”

  “I don’t think Destiny stripped for her health, and if I have my way, she won’t be doing things out of need anymore.”

  “Maybe she’s a freak. She could like that sort of thing.”