by Nia Arthurs
“William came into the picture right when news about your marriage to Breana broke out. He came to find me hoping we could reconcile. I’m not crazy. I told him no. He got angry. Real angry. The kind of angry that put him in jail if you get my drift.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No, nothing like that,” Merna said. “But it was enough for me to see that nothing’s changed between now and then.”
“I don’t know. Breana and I are in a good place. We promised not to keep secrets—”
“This isn’t a secret. Go ahead and tell her what a screw up that man is. I’m not going to hold you back, but you’ve got to be alert. That darn girl can flick a switch in the blink of an eye and talk about how she’s going to be loyal just ‘cause Will donated his sperm.”
“I still feel like this is Breana’s decision…”
“Did you not hear me? Was I speaking gibberish?” Merna coughed. “If she goes around trying to get to know him, he’ll use her and spit her out just like he did to me. Do you think I want to see my daughter go through that? Especially with that heart of hers?”
“Merna—”
“Watching her grow up without a father, taking care of a sick mother, do you think I just took advantage of her without hating myself for it? Do you think I don’t know what a disappointment I am? Breana’s been through too much. It’s time things worked out for her, and once William Stamp is involved, things don’t work out.”
“I understand.”
“I’m working hard to get out of here soon. Keep her safe until I can take care of Stamp myself.”
“I will.”
The door opened, and Breana strode through. She saw him on the phone and put a finger to her lips, walking to the bathroom.
“Thanks for calling. I have to go.” He hung up and strode over to her. “Where’s Dad?”
“I think he’s embarrassed about last night. He stayed just long enough to get the drink and then ran off. I figured running after him would just be more embarrassing so I let him go.”
“Oh.” He slid his hands into his pockets and leaned against the door, wondering how he should bring up the subject of her mother’s call.
Breana glanced at him from the reflection of the mirror. “Who was that on the phone?”
“It was your mother.”
“Mom?” Her hands came down to her sides. “Why did she call you?”
“She wanted me to keep you away from your birth father.”
“What?”
Trenton explained his brief conversation with Merna as Breana listened keenly. When he was done, she shook her head.
“Mom has no reason to be worried. I’m not going to entertain William.”
“Are you sure? He is your father—”
“He is not my father,” she said fiercely. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But if you ever need to—”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it. When is our boat leaving again?”
“In an hour.”
“Let’s check out and get to the terminal. I want to reach early so we can sit on the upper deck this time.”
Breana’s dismissive attitude carried into the week. Trenton watched her closely as she fought to appear unaffected by the matter of her father. He struggled between forcing her to confront the past and leaving her to work through it alone.
Personally, Trenton had nothing against Breana’s father. William had been unaware of Breana’s existence and deserved a second chance if he was genuinely interested in building a relationship with her.
It was only for his wife’s sake that he hoped the man continued hiding in whatever pocket of the city he’d chosen. And, as the days rolled by, it seemed that wish was coming true.
But eventually, William tiptoed back into their lives, and Trenton was not prepared for the consequences.
“You’re kidding me!” he yelled into the phone. “I didn’t agree to ship anything! Much less five thousand dollar speakers!”
“Well, Mr. Lorde, somebody did, and the items were brought into the country under the power of your name. Now I don’t understand why somebody as wealthy as yourself would try to con the nation, but I will not let this slide.”
“You don’t understand. I had no part in tax fraud.”
“So you’re telling me this,” the sound of rustling paper blasted on the other end, “this Mr. William Stamp used your name for the past two months to bring items into this country without your consent?”
“Did you say William Stamp?”
“According to the worker who accepted the bribe, Mr. Stamp used his connections with Lorde Industries to coerce the officers into lowering the duty threshold.”
“There must be some mistake,” he said and then he froze, recalling William’s gift of expensive speakers a few weeks ago.
“There is no mistake. We have the paperwork so don’t think you can wiggle your way out of this one. Someone from our office will be visiting you for an interview very soon, sir. I suggest you and your partner get your story straight.”
The man hung up and Trenton tossed his phone onto his desk. His father had had an intimate relationship with the Belize Tax Department, and Trenton had spent a good chunk of the first six months of his term as C.E.O. cleaning up that mess.
He’d been very careful to do things by the book in order to avoid this very scenario. What had William Stamp been thinking? Why on earth would he use the Lorde name to scam the system?
“Jamison!” Trenton cried.
“Yes, sir?” The large man walked into the room with a calm expression.
“How many reporters have called so far?”
“Only three, sir.”
Trenton rubbed the bridge of his nose. “How quickly can we contain this story?”
“I’m afraid it’s already out, sir. The internet is such a wonderful thing.”
He sighed. “That’s it, right? Tell me the Tax Department is our only problem.”
“Does George Camal count as a problem?”
“He’s already on this?”
“Not that I know of.”
Trenton breathed a sigh of relief.
“But with this matter cropping up a day before the Tourism Awards ceremony, I don’t see how he could pass such an opportunity to further destroy you.”
“Alright,” Trenton shifted into problem-solving mode, “let’s tackle the crisis we have now and deal with Camal when he comes later.”
“Yes, sir.”
The men jumped into action, squirting at the flames William Stamp had created. Trenton was already exhausted. It was going to be a long day.
Chapter 23
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“When will this day be over?” Melissa groaned from across the room. Breana glanced up and smiled. Slipping right back into office life had felt like putting on a comfortable pair of jeans, and she found a new appreciation for the monotonous cycle of a nine to five.
“Do you have plans after this?” Breana asked.
“Yes,” Melissa said. “I have a date with Netflix and a jumbo pack of Oreo cookies. I’ll probably do the same tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. Because unlike some people, I have no life.”
“To be honest, that actually sounds fun,” Breana mused, ducking her head behind her computer.
“Says the woman who’s going to get all dressed up to rub elbows with her husband’s rich associates tomorrow.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. If I could get out of it, I would.”
“Tell me about it.”
Breana jumped and spun to find her boss right behind her. Cady swaggered up to her desk and sat on the edge—something that she’d been doing a lot lately.
The Barrington heiress still wore super expensive clothes and fancy shoes, but her arrogant, condescending manner had been greatly reduced since the Juan betrayal and the hostage incident.
Breana
didn’t know whether to be grateful or horrified. Now that Cady had joined them in the real world, she seemed bent on treating Breana as a friend. There was way too much bad history between them, however, for such a move to be achieved easily.
“Can I skip the award ceremony and hang with you, Melissa?”
Breana snorted as her friend’s eyes bounced across the room, looking for a way out. “You wouldn’t want to do that,” Melissa said nervously. “My place is a mess.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“Actually,” Melissa said, “I think my Netflix subscription is up. Maybe next time?”
“Oh,” Cady blinked and a disappointed expression crossed her face before she wiped it away. “That’s fine. Next time.”
“Yeah,” Melissa said, bobbing her head.
Cady nodded as awkward silence filled the room. Sensing the tense air, her boss finally slid to her feet and shuffled back to her office. Breana felt a twinge of sympathy for Cady’s obvious attempts at befriending them, but it was still a little too weird.
Maybe one day they’d get used to the new and improved Cady Barrington, but today was not that day.
As soon as Cady disappeared around the bend, the office let out the breath they’d been holding. Breana’s phone rang, and she glanced at the screen before sighing loudly. The day just kept on getting better and better.
“What is it?” Melissa asked, pushing her chair over to Breana’s side.
“It’s nothing.”
“You’ve been getting a lot of weird calls like that lately. Is it Denzel? Is that why you never pick up?”
“It’s… my father.”
“Your father?” Melissa’s brown eyes doubled in size. “Whoa. How did that happen?”
“It’s a long story.” Her phone buzzed again and both women stared at the jittering device.
“I don’t think he’ll stop if you keep ignoring him,” Melissa said. “Why don’t you answer and see what he wants?”
“He’ll give up eventually.”
Melissa looked thoughtfully at the phone and then snatched it from the desk. Breana’s head whipped up and she planted a deadly stare on her friend’s back. Melissa was too busy answering the call to notice.
“Hello? No, this is Breana’s friend, Melissa. Well, you can say we’re actually best friends—”
“Give me that!” Breana grabbed the phone from Melissa’s hands and prepared to smash the END button.
“Wait!” a tinny voice yelled. “Don’t hang up.”
Breana slowly brought the device to her ear. “What do you want?”
“Just have one meal with me? Hm? Just one.”
“I don’t have time.”
“It’s noon. Don’t they let you out to eat?”
Breana looked over to Melissa who was gesturing for her to accept. She closed her eyes and groaned. “Alright. One meal.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Breana hung up and sliced her finger across her neck. “I’m going to kill you for this.”
“I’m already drowning in your gratitude.” Melissa pranced back to her desk, and Breana was left to dread the hour until lunch.
At the appointed time, she met William Stamp at Benny’s Restaurant. The little hole-in-the-wall shack didn’t amount to much on the outside, but their rice and beans was to die for. Breana was disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to enjoy the meal because of the company.
“You came,” William said with a wide grin.
“I told you I would.” She sat and looked over at him. Today, he wore a dark blue shirt and black pants. A silver studded earring protruded from his left ear, and a large watch winked loudly from his wrist.
“Wow,” he whispered, observing her in much the same way that she’d been observing him.
“What?”
“You look just like your mother when she was younger. It’s uncanny.”
“Thanks.” She tapped her fingers on the table. An awkward air swirled between them, and Breana began to wish she hadn’t agreed to this meeting.
“Here’s the waiter. Order anything you like. It’s on me.”
Breana gave her order, grateful for the waitress’s presence. Having another person nearby alleviated the tension, but as soon as the girl pranced away to the kitchen, the awkwardness returned ten-fold.
“So,” William said, “is there anything you’d like to ask me?”
Breana played with her napkin. “Not particularly.”
“Is it… is it okay if I speak honestly?”
She nodded. “Go ahead.”
“You hardly know me. I don’t expect you to think of me as ‘Dad’ yet.” When Breana stiffened, he quickly tacked on. “Or ever. It’s okay if we never get to that point. I know it was a lot to ask, but I’m grateful that you agreed to meet with me.”
“I only said ‘yes’ because you wouldn’t have left me alone if I did otherwise.”
“Persistence is one of my strengths.”
“Lovely.”
“Can I ask why you’re so angry with me? I didn’t know you existed. It wasn’t my choice.”
“I know that in my head,” Breana said, a lump forming in her throat. “I know that, but every time Mom came home higher than the clouds, every time I was scared because we’d been kicked out of another apartment or another group home, I thought of my father. You have a good excuse, but it doesn’t fix in here.” She tapped her chest.
“Breana, I am so sorry. It’s your mother’s fault for keeping us apart. Twenty-two years ago, I wasn’t the best version of myself, but I wouldn’t have abandoned you. I wouldn’t have left you in that situation.”
“It’s all in the past.” Breana wiped away a tear. “That time is gone, and it’s never coming back.”
William reached out and put his hand on top of hers. His dark skin glistened in the afternoon light and his eyes were sincere as he spoke. “Then let’s not worry about it, and build something new in the future.”
Hope swelled in Breana’s heart. The painful scars that she’d begun to work on thanks to Trenton’s patient love faded a little. Maybe the future could be better.
She imagined the simple pleasure of inviting both her mom and dad for Sunday dinner. Imagined calling her father when Trenton was away on a business trip and she needed help with the car or a leaky faucet.
“I—”
Before she could continue, her phone rang. William smiled and gestured for her to answer it.
“Trenton, hey. Have you eaten?”
“I’m fine, and I’ll eat when I get home.”
Something about his voice sounded off. Breana clutched the phone tighter, her eyes scaling the length of the restaurant as her mind ran through the gamut of bad things that could have happened.
“What’s wrong?”
“Bree, do you know where your dad is?”
Her eyes slid to the man accepting the dishes from the waiter. William caught her gaze and smiled warmly. She smiled back and turned a little away from him so that she could answer.
“Yes, he’s right across from me. We’re at lunch. What’s going on?”
“It’s… nothing.”
“Trenton, I know you.” Breana glanced over at William who seemed interested in their conversation. “Could you excuse me for a minute? I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.” He waved her away.
Breana stole through the restaurant until she’d reached the hallway that led to the bathrooms. “Trenton, I’m alone now. What aren’t you telling me?”
He sighed. “Bree, your father’s been using my name to borrow money from loan sharks. He also used our connection to avoid paying taxes on the expensive items he’s been shipping into the country.”
Breana fell back against the wall. “What? What do you mean ‘using your name’? How can he do that?”
“By claiming that he has a rich son-in-law, the lenders thought he was good for the money. He convinced the customs officer by saying he’d put a good word in
for his daughter to get a job at Lorde Industries. Now, I have to deal with a headache from the Tax Department.”
“No,” Breana cried and put a hand over her mouth. “Maybe you misunderstood.”
“I didn’t. Sweetie, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you like this. Jamison and I are on our way. Keep William there until we get to you. Okay?”
Still shocked from the news, Breana nodded absently before realizing that Trenton couldn’t see her.
“Okay,” she said, hoarsely. Quickly rounding the corner, Breana skidded to a stop in front of the table she’d shared with her father… only to find it empty.
William Stamp was gone.
Chapter 24
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A vision dressed in white with flowing brown hair walked down the stairs toward him. Breana’s natural beauty was amplified by the makeup that shimmered on her eyelids and on her plump lips. He was floored, grateful, and sorry as he looked at her.
Though her appearance embodied the celebratory spirit of a gala, her frown and sad eyes spoke of her misery. He wished William Stamp had stuck around and had bothered to come up with a proper excuse yesterday, at least for her sake.
Things were a little different on his side.
Trenton spent most of this morning dealing with the ramifications of William’s actions, but he wouldn’t be so accommodating should it happened again. If the man thought he could skate through life on the Lorde name, Trenton would have to change his mind.
That was a headache for another day. Tonight, he wanted Breana to relax and enjoy herself. She’d been so weighed down since William’s disappearing act that he wanted to scour the city and bring the con artist back by his ears.
Such a move would probably create more problems than it would solve, so Trenton was stuck thinking of more legal ways to cheer his wife up.
“Hey,” he said, drawing near to her and rubbing his arms along her smooth brown shoulders, “there’s something missing.”
“There is?” Breana glanced down and swept her hands over the dress. “Am I supposed to wear something else?”
He gently touched her cheek. “A smile. You’re missing a smile.”
Breana’s lips turned upward, struggling to form a full-blown grin, then—without warning—the life went out of her and her lips returned to their drooping state.