The view of the park, framed by one enormous window, served as its own priceless artwork. All the furniture was black leather, and the tables were made in dark woods. On one wall, an impressive collection of black bass guitars hung on their own hooks. On another wall, a massive TV was centered and mounted above a long modern credenza.
There wasn’t a decorative piece anywhere to be found—not a pillow, a lamp, or even a tchotchke. No appliances sat on his granite countertop. There wasn’t an area rug to warm up the cold gray marble floor. A hotel lobby had more personality than his place. The only thing that personalized the room was a single photo on the side table of his late wife.
When the door slammed shut behind me, I twisted around with purpose. “I don’t appreciate you patronizing me,” I ranted as he sauntered closer. By stepping directly into my personal space, the back of one couch prevented me from adding distance between us.
“I’m not patronizing you.” Before I could argue, he made me feel like a drama queen by simply asking, “Can I get you something to drink? I don’t keep alcohol here, but I have just about anything else.”
“Water, please.”
With a dip of his head, he turned toward his kitchen, but not before giving me a glimpse of that cocky smirk that drove me nuts for several reasons. I hated that confidence consuming him, yet it never failed to transport my thoughts right back to the night we met. It was that sly lift to the right corner of his lips that turned me on like no man ever had. There were men who possessed a carnal sensuality capable of making every word spoken sound erotic, every move made ooze of sexuality.
Trey had that ability in spades.
Less than a minute later, he was right back in my face, offering me a tall glass of ice water complete with a coaster beneath it. “Thank you.”
The longer I awkwardly stood while holding the glass with both hands, the more amused he became. “You can sit down. My furniture doesn’t bite.”
I gave him a sarcastic, toothless smile and sat in one of the leather chairs farthest from the couch. But, of course, he plopped himself down directly beside me.
With him close enough to smell his masculine cologne, any confidence I’d held coming into this vanished. There wasn’t one thing I could think to say that would give me some sort of upper hand in the argument I wanted to present. So, I continued to sit silently, trying to decide how to start this necessary discussion.
Meanwhile, Trey’s eyes never left my face while he strummed his fingers on the chair’s supple leather arm. My eyes caught on the tattoo of his wife’s name he had on his ring finger, and I wondered if she had had his name on hers.
After what seemed like an hour, he lifted a remote on the side table and pointed it toward the credenza. Music began playing, and then, when another click on the sleek gadget dimmed the lights, I asked, “What are you doing?”
His pale-blue eyes refocused on my face, causing a nervous flutter in the pit of my stomach. “Just trying to make you feel more comfortable. You look a bit uptight,” he said, ending with that sexy wink.
Instantly, the flutter turned into something much more intense, but it also served to rekindle the fight within me. “I’m uptight for a reason.”
“Sexually frustrated?” he asked, mock concern creasing a line across his forehead.
I could literally feel my cheeks tingeing pink under his scrutiny, but thankfully the determination he brought out in me was stronger. “I don’t appreciate you buying your way into our lives. It doesn’t work like that.”
A slow smile spread over his face. “Yeah, I’m not apologizing, nor will I promise not to continue to do so.” He tossed the remote onto the table and relaxed back into the chair. “You’ve been with her all these years, and I was cheated out of that.” The intentional pause that came next was no doubt his way to drive home the point that I had kept his daughter from him.
Undeterred, I forged on. “Maybe getting to know her first, developing a relationship, would prove to me you’re ready to be her father.”
His ice-blue eyes flashed as his body jolted forward. “A relationship can’t be rushed… that will come with time. But in the meantime, I can do something about all the things I would’ve done over the last six years had I known she was my kid. I have every right to right those wrongs now.” Before I could argue, he went on to say, “And let’s talk about this relationship you mention. How can that possibly happen if you guard her from me like I’m some sort of criminal?”
“You can’t blame me for that. I barely know you.”
“That’s my point!” My flinch caused his body to relax. “You don’t know me,” he continued, softening his tone. “We’ve been through this. Every goddamn decision that you’ve made since the day Alivia was born is based on a man you think you know. It’s not fair to me.”
I couldn’t deny his accusation, because it was absolutely true. But, in my defense, at the time he was a rock star heading for fame, and with each year that had gone by he’d publicly played that role more and more authentically. What else was I supposed to think?
Regardless, I needed to play nice for my daughter’s sake. “I’m sorry,” I replied quietly. “You’re right. From here on in, I won’t stop you from spending time with Alivia. Provided… you show me the respect of communicating your intentions and not just throwing them at me.”
“I can do that.” He offered his hand across the small space between us, but after it remained suspended for a few seconds he reached over with his other hand to grab mine, and then clasped his around it. “You will be more accommodating, I will be more sensitive to your requests, and we’ll get to know each other better,” he said, pumping our hands a few times to seal the deal.
Instead of releasing me, he then pulled my hand toward his face, placed a soft kiss on it, and effectively stole the breath that I’d been holding in since he first touched me.
Chapter 12
Trey
My plan was spot-on. In the short amount of time since she’d strutted her hot little body through my door, I’d already managed to knock the chip off her shoulder. And since shaking on our agreement, Camilla had looked a tiny bit more relaxed and less confrontational.
Surprisingly, she slowly began sharing details of what had happened since she became pregnant. With little emotion, she recounted why her family had decided to walk away from her when she needed them the most. And fine, I got that her parents were extremely traditional and old-school, but her brother abandoned her as well, like a spineless coward. What a prick.
“It is what it is,” she said. “I’m doing just fine without them.”
“When we met with Gene, you mentioned some guy… your ex. Where is he now?”
“Victor.” She paused. “He’s married, lives in Westchester, I think.”
The pain written on her face was so obvious, I had to ask, “Do you still love him?”
Instantly, she slid her head back and forth. “Definitely not. Why would you think that I did?”
“You looked so sad after I asked about him.”
She averted her gaze with a shrug. “That wasn’t sadness.”
When she refused to look at me, I asked, “Did he hit you?”
“No.” It took a few seconds before she finally met my gaze. “Not all abuse comes in a physical form. I probably should have ended it a dozen times before I had. I don’t know…” She looked lost. “He and my brother are good friends. Maybe I stayed longer than I should have because I knew they’d side with Victor.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “Of course, they did just that. And then once I became pregnant, they used that as an excuse to try and manipulate me into moving back to Puerto Rico.”
“I’m sorry, Camilla.” My heart hurt for all she’d gone through alone. But even having regrets over not being there for her, I couldn’t ignore that things happened for a reason.
It was hard to imagine what my reaction or response would’ve been. The man I used to be back then would in no way embrace an accidental pregnancy
from a distasteful hookup. If I had known that I had a kid coming, where would that have led? I suspect my lawyer would have offered her a substantial “hush” payment to ensure she kept her mouth shut. Ironically, I probably would’ve easily signed over custody without a second thought.
Regardless, things happened the way they had, and I was man enough to admit I’ve matured. Camilla, on the other hand, always had enough maturity to have our baby and raise her alone.
“Can I ask you a question?” A small smile played on her lips on my nod. “How did you and Tara meet?”
“Tara was a journalist.”
Without conscious thought, I stared at the picture across the room. I kept another on my nightstand. When I moved from the apartment we shared, I had all reminders of her packed up and donated. Seeing it all every day was just too painful. And as it always did from thinking of her, my entire body thrummed with a need to numb myself.
Pushing it down, I continued, “She was assigned to write a series of articles for her magazine on the band.” Silence brought my focus back to Camilla, and I couldn’t help but wonder what ran through her mind. “What?” I asked.
“I wasn’t expecting…” A rosy hue I’ve seen a few times now reddened her cheeks just as she waved a hand. “You know what, never mind.”
“No, tell me.”
“I guess it just sounds so normal.”
“Ah,” I said when her comment hit me. “You expected my wife to be a stripper?”
“No, I knew she was a journalist. I just didn’t expect you two to have met that way.” The way she bit down on her bottom lip and shrugged made it impossible to get annoyed. But then her expression grew serious before she glanced at the photo and back at me. “She was very beautiful.”
Another predictable tightness slowly constricted my chest and throat. If she had more questions to ask, then I’d answer, but my survival skills kicked in enough to subtly derail her. “We better get going,” I said, enjoying how pity suddenly morphed into confusion on her face.
“Going where?” she asked, folding her arms and allowing her snark to reveal itself once again.
“You’ll see. This was the reason I had you come here. I want to show you something.” I bounced up out of my chair, watching some sort of conflict commence within her. “Now what?”
“Trey, we really need to talk.”
“Wasn’t that what we’ve been doing the last fifteen minutes?” I smacked my forehead. “Shit, was I imagining all that? It happens to me a lot.”
Not at all amused, she pursed her lips. “Talk about the car. I can’t accept it—it’s too much. And that check isn’t a realistic child support payment. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I can’t in good conscience take that money when a week ago—” She halted, hearing my heavy sigh and watching my eyes roll around. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“I just did.” I repeated the move even more obnoxiously. “The car is not being returned, and the money is a realistic amount based on my salary. That’s just a drop in the bucket compared to what Alivia will be receiving as my sole beneficiary once I’m dead.” As her mouth hung open, I took the opportunity to get right into her face. “Now, pull yourself together, because Alec is waiting for us downstairs… and I don’t like to keep him waiting.”
Camilla
When Alec slowed the car and angled it into a no-parking zone, I dipped my head to glance out the window. “We’re here already?”
“Yep.”
“Why didn’t we just walk?”
“Because it’s a happening area, and it’s still daylight,” he stated as if it were obvious.
The drive from his building to our current location had taken seven minutes, and that was because we’d caught the only light between the two destinations. There weren’t any restaurants or businesses on the tree-lined street, which had me even more confused.
“Where are we?”
“The Lairs.’”
“Oh no.” I slid my head from side to side repeatedly. “No way.”
“There’s a reason we’re here.” He took my hand, unbuckled my seat belt, and towed me along as he opened the door and got out.
“Trey, please don’t make me do this,” I said, leaning back and forcing our arms to stretch tightly between us.
“Do what? Meet my friends, see me in my element?” Without releasing my hand, he came closer… close enough to see the navy-blue flecks in his cornflower eyes… eyes just like my daughter’s. “If you want to know me, then this is the only way to do so.” Our gazes held, and during that short pause he skimmed his thumb back and forth over the back of my hand. Had he realized he was doing that, or was there a purpose to the move?
My guess was the latter, because as it happened, I nodded and probably would have agreed to anything he suggested. “The man on stage is only one small part of who I am,” he continued. “Watching me interact with people that I consider family is the real me.”
As his eyes continued to study mine, I could feel the fight within me dissipating. “Okay.”
“Good. They don’t bite. Besides, you met them before.” Alec appeared with a smile. “I’m good, Alec,” Trey offered while still gripping my hand. “We’ll walk back, and I’ll drive Camilla home.”
“Okay,” Alec said. “Just call me if you change your mind.”
“Will do,” Trey replied, before tugging me along into the building. I remained quiet as he greeted the doorman by name and walked us into a waiting elevator. But when he punched in the code for the penthouse, I started chewing on my bottom lip nervously.
My nerves spiked as the elevator doors opened to a fancy-schmancy foyer that was as long as my entire apartment. I had absolutely nothing in common with these people, and I was so out of my element.
“This is stunning,” I whispered.
“All Jack’s doing. Leila hates any kind of pretension, but he wore her down when it came to their homes.” Homes… of course. “As nice as their Manhattan apartment is, that is nothing compared to the beach house they have on the Jersey Shore,” Trey mentioned casually.
Oh, that makes me feel so much more comfortable.
Jack’s opening the front door just as we approached snapped me out of the trance I’d been in, and in a very ungraceful move, I hastily released Trey’s hand. The two men chuckled, making it obvious they’d caught my jerky maneuver.
“Hey, guys. Glad you came.” Jack threw me a dimpled smile that I was sure most women swooned over and added, “I wasn’t convinced he’d get you here. Did he bribe you?”
Damn he was handsome. The look Trey had going on screamed rock star, whereas Jack’s aura screamed male model. Just as tall, just as muscular, and just as cocky as Trey, but those dimples put a cherry on top of the total package.
I immediately fell under his spell and then realized I hadn’t responded. “Um… yeah, me too.” Me too? When Jack’s grin widened, I gave the back of my head a virtual smack.
Thankfully, Leila’s rushing toward us deflected from the unspoken conversation Jack and Trey seemed to be having.
“Hi,” she said before engulfing me in a warm embrace. “I am so happy you came.”
“I really wasn’t given a choice,” I blurted out and then slammed my mouth shut.
Leila’s golden-brown eyes darted to Trey. “You forced her?”
“No,” he said on a huff. But before I could argue, he added, “Forcing would suggest she knew where we were going. It was more like an abduction.”
The two men found this even funnier than my previous blunders, but I felt a bit better when Leila rolled her eyes. “Ignore them,” she said, taking me by the elbow and leading me into their apartment.
Something about her calmed my nerves a bit. She was very pretty, and she and Jack made a gorgeous couple. But her beauty didn’t intimidate me. Despite her thick chestnut-brown wavy hair, or her perfect body, she seemed approachable, real.
As we entered the apartment, my eyes bounced around the cavernous living
room with its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park. There was enough furniture to seat twenty or so comfortably. To the left, a white marble staircase climbed to a second level. To the right, a humongous kitchen featured a granite-topped island holding ten high-backed stools that would have any professional chef drooling.
“You have a gorgeous home, Leila.”
“I hate this place,” she admitted, confirming Trey’s comment from earlier. Could it even be called a place? It was more like a palace. “The only reason I stayed was, with four kids, we need six bedrooms.” A small groan forced my attention to her face before she grumbled, “God, that sounds awful, doesn’t it?”
“Camilla, if it was up to my wife…” Jack came closer, leaning over Leila’s shoulder to offer his own insights. “. . . we’d still be living in her one bedroom in Hoboken.”
“Not true…” She looked at me and winked. “But maybe a tiny cape near my dad’s house in the town I grew up in.”
Trey immediately made himself at home on one of their massive suede couches as Jack asked, “What can we get you to drink?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” I said, sitting on one of the side chairs.
His gaze then shifted to Trey. “The usual?”
“Sure.”
Leila sat closest to me and smiled. “Camilla, even though Trey gave you no choice in being here, I want you to know tonight wasn’t some sort of ambush. We really just want to get to know you, and as one mother to another, I want you to feel comfortable asking me any questions you may have.” Taking my hand in hers, she stared at me determinedly. “Our lifestyle may seem intimidating and overwhelming, but trust me when I say, it’s just a job. My kids, my husband… my family is what’s most important to me.” She looked over at Trey and smiled warmly. “And since Trey is part of my family, now so are you and Alivia.”
From anyone else, that claim would seem disingenuous. She’d known me for all of ten minutes. But at that moment, I believed her.
Jack appeared with what looked like a beer for Trey. And only when Trey admitted, “This stuff is growing on me,” did I realize it must have been nonalcoholic.
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