Perfect

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Perfect Page 8

by Delaney Diamond


  “The reason I’m glad we were able to see each other today is because I have something to tell you.” He rubbed his hands together, apparently finding it difficult to tell her his news. She wished he’d get it over with. “I’m leaving the country. I’m selling the house in Miami, too, and moving to the Caribbean at the end of the year.”

  Moving? For good? The shock of his words left her temporarily speechless. Daniella swallowed. “I see.”

  “I was hoping—”

  “Don’t you mean we?” she interrupted him. Hurt, anger foamed inside of her. “You said ‘I’m leaving the country,’ but what you really mean is we’re leaving the country. You and your wife. Are your sons going, too?”

  “No, the boys aren’t going. Just me and…my wife.” He leaned across the table. “Before I go, I want…I wanted to see if we could patch things up. I want you to have my address, in case you ever need me.”

  “I haven’t needed you before. What makes you think I would need you now?”

  He appeared crestfallen. Did he really think she’d jump at the chance to stay in touch when they hadn’t for years?

  “Daniella—”

  “Oh, wait, you did pay child support.” While his sons had his love and affection, she hadn’t received even a birthday card from him since her eighth birthday, after he married the woman he’d been having an affair with behind her mother’s back. “So I should thank you for that. I should also thank you for covering my mother’s medical bills after she died, but I was more than capable of doing it.” It would have been a financial strain. She would have covered the bills, though, but he beat her to it.

  “I wanted to,” he said. “It was the least I could do.”

  “Do you think it somehow makes up for the way you discarded her?” The way you discarded me? she wanted to scream.

  “No, I don’t.”

  He looked pitiful, and she didn’t want to feel sorry for him. “Goodbye, Carlos.” Daniella rose from the table.

  “I never deserted you,” he said hastily. “No matter what you think.” His voice halted her with her back turned to him.

  She whirled around in anger. “Don’t you lie to me,” she hissed. “You had your new wife and your new family, and that’s all that mattered.” His sons had gone into business with him. Since he’d sold the business and moved to Miami, what were they doing now? No doubt living off the millions of dollars her father had earned over the years. Twiddling their thumbs as they chased women around the globe. From what she understood from other family members, her younger siblings were quite the playboys. They’d taken after their father. She lifted her chin and looked down at him with disdain. “I don’t need you for anything. I don’t need your money, your time, nothing. You didn’t want me, but it didn’t stop me from being successful.”

  A pained expression crossed his face and he reached a hand to her but only caught air. “That’s not true. I wanted you, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

  “Why would you be proud? You had absolutely nothing to do with my success. I’m successful in spite of your rejection.” She should be quiet. Otherwise she’d say too much and he’d guess how much his absence had truly affected her. How devastated she’d been for years when she realized he was never coming back. She would never get another piggyback ride. He would never introduce her to another person as his favorite girl and the best thing in his life.

  She could never treat her own child in such a cruel manner. She knew the pain of rejection, and her child would not grow up doubting the love of either of its parents. She’d already taken steps to ensure that didn’t happen.

  Carlos stood. “I know you don’t need me, but I’m your father, and no matter what you believe, I loved you. I still do.” He paused, then reached into his pocket. “My contact information, in case you ever change your mind and want to get in touch.”

  He tried to hand her the card, but she didn’t take it. The truth was, she couldn’t move. The memories that had tormented her flooded back like a burst dam, and she was afraid if she moved a muscle she might collapse completely. Then he’d know the truth.

  Very carefully, he placed the card on the table. “I’m staying at the Four Seasons Hotel until Saturday if you want to meet up again and talk.”

  “I won’t.”

  He nodded. “I understand. Goodbye, baby girl.”

  He had no right to call her that. The softly spoken endearment pierced her cold armor, but fortunately he’d already started toward the door.

  She bit her trembling lip and blinked to fight back the tears. A man at a nearby table openly watched her, and she lowered her gaze, blinking rapidly against the tears flooding her eyes. When her blurry vision cleared, her eyes focused on the card he’d left behind.

  Simple and white with black letters, it listed his name, address, and cell phone number. She stared at it for a long time. She didn’t know how long she stood there, lost in her own world, remembering how every birthday came and went. Christmas came and went. Every holiday, every summer, every single day, passed, and she never heard from her father.

  Maybe if she hadn’t known how wonderful having him in her life could be it wouldn’t have hurt so much. But she’d been eight years old when he disappeared, and she still remembered all the fun times they’d had. He’d taken her fishing, and he even took her down to the work sites with him and put a hard hat on her head so she could safely walk through the buildings he renovated. She’d been a daddy’s girl for sure.

  Then he disappeared, as if he’d fallen off the edge of the world. When he’d divorced her mother, he’d divorced her, too. He hadn’t broken one heart. He’d broken two.

  She picked up the card and tore it into tiny pieces. Then she took the pieces and walked over to the trash receptacle and tossed them in. Nothing had changed, and she’d turned out fine. She didn’t need him then and she certainly didn’t need him now.

  Chapter Eleven

  One of the drawbacks to his position in life was the number of events Cyrus had to attend. Political functions, charity functions, fundraisers, and all manner of social engagements. The list seemed endless. He’d cut back in recent years, but he still showed up to quite a few on a regular basis. At least this event was different. His sister was happy and getting married.

  The majority of people at the engagement party were family and Ivy’s friends, which meant he didn’t have to suffer through pitches to invest in the next hot business idea, mothers practically throwing their daughters at him—despite the fact that he wore his ring and was still married—nor be forced to make conversation, because most everyone here knew small talk wasn’t his forte.

  Situated on Lake Union, the grounds of Cyrus’s mother’s estate had been transformed into a colorful display in celebration of Ivy and Lucas’s engagement. Bright colors dominated the decorations, and tulips—his mother and Ivy’s favorite flower—had been imported from the Netherlands and adorned the white-linen covered tables in bright reds, oranges, and purples. Upon entering, guests received white note cards with Advice for the Bride & Groom engraved in gold letters, with the expectation they would write their advice on the lines below and drop them in a glass box sitting on a table by itself.

  Plenty of squealing and hugging took place as guests arrived to celebrate with the future bride and groom. Lucas didn’t have any family members in attendance because he didn’t know his family, but everyone at the party took the opportunity to get to know him and make him feel welcomed.

  In addition to chairs and tables set up on the grass, there were stations laden down with more than enough food and beverages. One table had heavy hors d’oeuvres and another was piled high with cakes and cookies. A Bloody Mary station allowed guests to build their own unique version of the drink, and the family’s Full Moon beer was available in abundance. For nondrinkers like Cyrus, one station offered nonalcoholic beverages.

  Standing on the perimeter of the festivities with his brother, Trenton, Cyrus’s eyes rested
on Daniella, chatting with a guest over near the drinks table. He could hardly take his eyes from her. She wore her hair loose around her shoulders, the way he liked, and she managed to make the simple long skirt and oversized peasant top she wore look like high fashion. To him, she was the most beautiful woman in attendance. Today she was returning home, and he could hardly wait. He could almost feel those long legs wrapped around him, her soft body clinging to his in rapturous release, and his ass clenching under the bite of her fingernails.

  A scream pierced the air. Like everyone else, Cyrus turned toward the sound and saw Ivy with her hand over her mouth. He followed her wide-eyed gaze to see his brother, Gavin, coming down the stone steps that led from the back of the house.

  The prodigal son had returned.

  Cyrus couldn’t see his brother’s eyes behind the dark-tinted aviator sunglasses, but Gavin smiled fondly at his sister as she rushed forward into his arms. He lifted her off the ground and swung her around in two full circles. Once everyone realized there was nothing to be alarmed about, a low hum of excited chatter started.

  Cyrus couldn’t hear what his brother and sister were saying, but the happiness on Ivy’s face conveyed her joy at seeing her twin.

  “Would you look at that,” Trenton murmured. He took a carrot stick from the crudité cup he held and crunched it. “I didn’t think he would come.”

  “I guess he thought better of it,” Cyrus said.

  Trenton eyed him suspiciously. “What did you do?”

  “I reminded him of how important his presence is to his sister.”

  That and threatening to cut him off financially had done the trick. As the executor of their father’s will, Cyrus was responsible for the allowances paid out to all family members. Since Gavin didn’t work, he depended on his allowance to finance his partying around the world.

  Trenton laughed. “Yeah right. Whatever you did, it worked. Mother’s happy, too,” he added as their mother hurried over to envelope her son in her arms.

  Friends and family greeted Gavin with enthusiastic hugs and smiles, many of whom hadn’t seen him in years, so it was a while before he made his way to them. When he finally did, he sauntered over.

  “Good to see you, bro.” Trenton gave him a hug and they slapped each other on the back.

  Cyrus’s lips quirked into a smile. “Changed your mind, I see,” he said.

  “I guess you’re happy.” Gavin shoved the glasses atop his head. “I’m going to get you back for this.”

  “For telling you to come home? I’m not losing any sleep over your threats. Stay a while. For some reason Mother and Ivy want you here and are glad to see you. Look how happy they are, although I have no idea why.”

  Gavin laughed. His light brown eyes, the same color as their father’s, crinkled in the corners. The contrast with his dark brown skin was the first thing women noticed about him and made them practically swoon. Cyrus sometimes thought Gavin wore sunglasses so often to make the reveal of his eyes more dramatic.

  “Tell the truth, you’re happy to see me, too. That’s why you wanted me here so badly.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  Gavin laughed again. “I might stay a while if I can find a way to occupy my time.” He looked around at the attendees. “What’s the scoop on the ladies?” He directed the question to Trenton.

  “You don’t waste any time, do you?” Cyrus asked dryly.

  “Unlike you, I’m not in any hurry to get married. You are still married, aren’t you?”

  “Barely,” Trenton answered.

  “And where is the lovely Daniella? That woman should be nominated for sainthood for putting up with you for as long as she did. Are you ever going to give her a divorce?”

  Both his brothers looked at him and waited for an answer.

  “We’ve recently reconciled. Worry about your own love life and not mine,” he told his brothers.

  “My love life is great, as always,” Gavin said. “So who are the single ladies?”

  Trenton pointed them out with his chin. “That one over there is recently divorced. The one in the cream dress will be happy to see you. Every time she sees me she asks about you.”

  “What’s her name again?”

  “Sharon.”

  “Oh yeah, Sharon.” Gavin licked his lips and smiled. “What about her, in the gray skirt?”

  “That’s Alannah,” Cyrus answered. Trenton’s best friend.

  “I couldn’t tell with her back to us.” Gavin shifted his gaze to Trenton and then back at Alannah, who’d now turned around and was in conversation with their mother. “What’s up with you and her? The two of you still just friends?”

  “Don’t go there,” Cyrus warned.

  “She’s more than a friend. She’s family,” Trenton said.

  “She ain’t my family,” Gavin said. “I’m just asking a question. The two of you still platonic? Because if you are, I might take a shot at her. I’ve always thought she was kind of cute.”

  Cyrus anticipated the impending explosion as Gavin purposely baited Trenton.

  “Cut it out. She’s a good girl.” The note in Trenton’s voice had grown harder.

  “You’re a better man than me,” Gavin continued. He kept his eyes on Alannah. “She’s got the nerdy librarian thing going on with the glasses and the bun. If I hadn’t seen Alannah in a bathing suit when she came on vacation with us, I’d swear she didn’t have a body under those oversized clothes. Makes me want to take them off and find out how—”

  Trenton walked up to his brother and stood nose to nose with him. “Enough.”

  Gavin put up his hands with a laugh. “I can’t pay your friend a compliment? Calm down, I’m kidding.”

  “It’s not funny. She’s a nice girl. Show some respect.”

  The stare off ended when Trenton stepped back and looked out at the lake. Gavin locked eyes with Cyrus.

  “I told you,” Cyrus said with a shrug.

  Gavin patted Trenton on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t come home to create problems. I came to celebrate my sister getting engaged and meet the guy she’s supposed to marry. Let’s forget I said anything about the nice and sweet Alannah.” He flung his arm around Trenton’s neck.

  Trenton didn’t hug him back. “You play too damn much.”

  Gavin grinned to neutralize his brother’s anger. “Come on. Introduce me to the women who aren’t so nice. Those are the ones I really want to meet.” With his hand still around Trenton’s neck, he hauled his younger brother with him toward a couple of women.

  “Those two together will mean nothing but trouble,” a voice said. Xavier had walked over with a drink in his hand. As usual, he didn’t dress the part of a wealthy man. He never wore name brand anything, and today had on a plain shirt and jeans. His dreads were pulled back from his face in a thick ponytail.

  Cyrus nodded his agreement. “I feel like I should issue a warning to all the women here.”

  Xavier didn’t respond, but Cyrus could tell he wanted to talk. They stared after their brothers as they chatted up two of Ivy’s friends standing over by one of the tables.

  “You look tired. You need to get some rest,” Xavier said.

  “Somebody has to put in the long hours. You wouldn’t know anything about that, though, would you?”

  Xavier bit his lip in annoyance, as if biting back harsh words. Shaking his head, he shot his brother an angry look. “I’m tired of your cracks about the work I do. You’ve never respected it, but it’s work, even if you don’t think so.” Working with nonprofits, he brought attention to the economic inequalities in resource-rich African countries.

  “Not the work you were meant to do.”

  “What was I meant to do, Cyrus?” He lowered his voice because he’d gotten rather loud. “I’m not you, okay? I was never the CEO type. Father knew that. It’s why he left you in charge. You’re practically a clone of him.” He said the last with disgust, which made Cyrus straighten and stare at him. �
��Do you even know who you are—outside of being Cyrus Junior?”

  “Who else would I be?”

  “You have his name, his responsibility, and that’s all you have. Do you have any friends? When was the last time you took the boat out on the lake and relaxed? When was the last time you took a vacation? You sit on your throne on top of Mount Johnson and use money to control everything and everyone. He groomed you well.”

  Cyrus laughed softly, mildly amused by his brother’s sanctimonious pronouncements.

  “While you’re complaining about the money, what about you, Xavier? Who are you? Why do you feel the need to hide who you are, with the dreadlocks and the bargain basement clothes? You’re trying so hard to be somebody else, to hide from your wealth while still collecting a nice check every month.”

  “I hardly spend a dime of my allowance,” Xavier grated. “What I do spend helps others in my nonprofit work.”

  “And the money finances your trips, doesn’t it? A few years ago, when you were stuck in a Senegalese prison, it was the money from Mount Johnson that got you freed.” Cyrus looked around at the smiling guests. “I don’t understand why you can’t work at the company our father worked so hard to build.”

  “Not everyone is cut out for business, and there’s more to life than money.”

  “Why can’t you do both? Save the world and work at the company?” Cyrus said. “Why are you so ashamed of who you are and where you came from? Do you know how many people would love to be you?”

  “Of course I do. Do you know how many people suffer everyday because they don’t have enough to eat and because of corporations like ours, underpaying and raping resources from local communities? The rich getting richer and the poor poorer.”

  “Save me the tired clichés,” Cyrus said with a wave of his hand. “Your statistics say one thing, mine say there’s a growing middle class, and it’s larger than ever before.”

  “Anyone can doctor numbers to coincide with their arguments. I don’t trust your funny math.”

 

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