Chapter 2
HEIR APPARENT
RHODES
“Sir!” My assistant, Alicia, burst into my office. In ten years, she’d never done that.
I was immediately on alert. “What’s wrong?”
“I just got a call from your stepmother. She said she’s trying to reach you—it’s urgent.”
I checked my phone, which I’d muted.
Miranda Barrington - 13 missed calls
A funny sensation settled over me, a heaviness, and I had to sit down. Black spots danced in front of my eyes. “What happened?” But somehow, I already knew.
Alicia’s face was white. “There’s been an accident. It’s your father and your brother—I’m so sorry, Sir.”
“I’ll call Miranda back.”
She closed the door behind her. Once I was alone again, I felt like I was underwater, sinking. My palms tingled, chills running up my arms.
Be a man. Pick up the phone. I didn’t want to know what happened. But did I have a choice?
I called my stepmother.
“Rhodes?” Her voice was raspy, choked.
“What happened?”
“There was an accident. They were driving back from Boston…. There was a tractor-trailer…” She took a deep, shuddery breath.
Heaviness settled over my heart, cloaking it in darkness. My father. My brother. I’d already lost my mother. And now, the rest of my family was… gone? How was that even possible?
“Where’s Luke?” I asked. Luke was my brother’s four-year-old son.
“With his mother,” Miranda said.
My mind started racing. “That’s not good.”
“I know.”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of everything.” The words robotically, automatically, sprang from my mouth—surprising even me. I’d stayed out of the family business for years, but now it was time. This was my legacy. My family. I was the only Barrington remaining.
“There’s no need. I can manage things,” Miranda said, an undercurrent of a warning in her voice.
“Not so fast, Miranda.” Of course, my stepmother was already making a power grab. “I will be managing things. I’ll be at Barrington Manor as soon as I can. Don’t do anything until I arrive.”
Before she could protest further, I hung up.
I rested my head on my desk, wishing I could go back in time so none of this would be true. But they were gone. I’d felt alone for years, but now it was official. It hadn’t even been a day, yet Miranda was already ready to pounce.
But I was not about to let my stepmother get the best of me.
Not this time.
Not with everything on the line.
The funeral services were grueling. The turnout was magnificent—both my father and brother would’ve been pleased—but for me it was unbearable. The morning stretched out, an endless series of handshakes, stiff hugs, and condolences I couldn’t begin to be grateful for.
Dad and William were the ones who were gone. But I felt dead inside, too.
Grief is a funny thing. I knew that I should feel sad, but instead I felt nothing, just a vague emptiness.
I understood that something was occupying that space, and eventually, I would have to face it.
But for now? I stood side by side by side in the receiving line with my wicked stepmother, Miranda Barrington.
She wore a black gown with white gloves, her auburn hair swept up off of her unnaturally smooth face.
“It’s a good turnout, don’t you think?” she asked, her tone cool, almost indifferent.
We could have been talking about a rummage sale.
“I think Father and William would be pleased,” I replied.
“How would you know?” She shot me a sideways glance. “It’s not like you’ve been around them in a long time. I can’t even remember the last time you visited for the holidays.”
“It’s because I’ve been busy working, Miranda—something you know little about.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said smoothly, plastering a smile onto her face as the next wave of mourners approached.
“I’ve been extremely involved with the business over the past few years.
So involved, in fact, that your father deemed me ‘essential.’ That was the very word he used, isn’t that nice? ”
“It’s nice if you believe it, which I don’t.” I also plastered a smile on my face.
“Well, you don’t have to believe it for it to be true,” Miranda said. “Your father said my loyalty would be rewarded. He also said that your inability to grow up and settle down would be your undoing.”
“He never said that.”
“Did so,” Miranda taunted, sounding like a child.
The receiving line picked up again, ending our discussion. Which was fine with me, except that Miranda’s words had hit their target: they’d rankled me.
Not helping matters was the fact that my brother’s ex-wife, the former model Gigi Barrington, stood on my other side.
Gigi wore an edgy black dress with a giant slit up the front, stacked bangles, smoky eye makeup, and a perpetual scowl.
She was here for appearances only, and perhaps an early handout from the estate.
Gigi and William had divorced acrimoniously years ago, right after Luke's birth. Four-year-old Luke stood behind his mother, woefully out of place and solemn in his small suit. His face was pale. He didn’t seem to understand what was happening, and his mother continued to ignore him as he tugged on her dress.
His nanny, Maria, came to the rescue. “May I take him for a break?” she asked Gigi.
Gigi glared at Maria. The nanny, a kindly grandmotherly type, had worked for William. Gigi and Maria had never been friendly. “Just make sure you bring him back,” Gigi snapped.
“Of course,” Maria said, ducking her head beneath her mass of black curls.
She was probably trying to hide a look of disgust. Gigi wasn’t exactly in the running for Mom of the Year.
She barely saw Luke, almost always canceling her time with him.
William complained that the few times she had taken the boy, he’d returned dirty, hungry, and wearing the same clothes he’d been dropped off in.
"Come on, buddy. Let’s go get a snack and some fresh air." Maria gathered up a relieved-looking Luke and carried him out of the service, kissing his head.
I plastered another fake smile on my face as more mourners approached the line. “You should be nicer to the nanny,” I whispered to Gigi.
“You should mind your own business,” Gigi seethed.
“She takes good care of him. Which is more than you can say.”
Gigi whirled on me, long blond hair flying. “You’ve got no room to talk, Uncle Absent. Luke doesn’t even know your name.”
“That’s not true,” I argued.
“Pfft.” Gigi shook her head. “You Barringtons are all the same. Deluded. Oh, fuck this line. I need a drink.”
She stomped off, and Miranda pursed her lips. “I hope she doesn’t make a scene,” Miranda said.
“Gigi is a walking scene.” I shrugged. “At least she’s authentic.”
Miranda rolled her eyes, and I smiled. An authentic smile. Because Miranda had always been a pain in my ass, but now? She was officially the enemy. If my stepmother thought she was essential, and taking my company, Gigi was right.
Miranda Barrington was deluded.
Late that night, the staff alerted me that Gigi had asked for a car to take her and Luke to the airport the next day. So before the sun came up, I called my legal team.
“Gigi’s trying to take Luke back to New York,” I said as soon as my long-time attorney picked up the phone. “Can I stop her?”
“Yes,” Alan said. “She doesn’t have custody. William had full custody, and he’s made provisions for the boy in his will.”
“What are the provisions?” I asked.
“Are you sitting down?” Alan asked.
“For fuck’s sake, Alan. Spit it out.”
“You are Luke’s guardian,” he said, and I sighed in relief.
“But there’s a but, Rhodes. I reviewed the trust this morning. Your father and brother each revised their estate planning documents a few months ago.”
My pulse quickened. No one told me about this. “What’s changed? Am I still the heir to Barrington Enterprises?”
“Yes,” he said immediately. “But there are new stipulations. In order to take over the company and retain custody of Luke, you have to meet certain conditions. Both your father’s and your brother’s trusts named the same conditions—if you don’t meet them, Miranda gets control of the company.”
Over my dead body. “What sort of conditions?”
“You have to be married. The trust says you have to be married within thirty days.” He let that sink in. “And you have to stay married for a minimum of five years.”
“What?”
“And you and your wife have to make Barrington Manor your primary residence,” Alan added.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, Rhodes, I’m not. You have to get married ASAP, stay married, and move into Barrington Manor. Or you’ll lose everything.”
I dropped into the closest chair, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of me. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. You have to do something: find a wife. ASAP,” Alan said.
We hung up, and I stared at the wall.
Find a wife ASAP.
My mind raced. My father and brother had boxed me into a corner. I wondered if they were laughing at me from the other side. Probably.
The good news was that I had custody of Luke—Gigi couldn’t take him. I quickly texted Philips, our longtime butler, instructing security to escort her from the premises. She’d be leaving Barrington Manor alone.
I also instructed Philips to give Gigi a large quantity of cash so she’d go quietly. She would burn through it quickly, I knew—a million dollars wouldn’t keep her away for long. But she needed to be gone today.
Poor Luke had had enough drama. His world was already shattered, and Gigi only ever seemed to ignore him or yell at him. But now he was going to have to deal with me, his bachelor uncle. What had Gigi called me? Uncle Absent. She had no room to talk, and yet, she wasn’t entirely wrong.
I had a lot of work to do.
Why had they insisted I get married? Probably for Luke’s sake, and I didn’t blame them for that.
The boy would need stability, attention, and warmth I couldn’t offer.
But the problem was I didn’t have a candidate for a wife.
I didn’t have a girlfriend; I didn’t want one.
I didn’t have any female friends. I didn’t have anybody who could help me.
That was because I didn’t need anybody. Ever. I would never ask for help.
In my world, money got me whatever I wanted. And it worked every time. It was easy, simple. A transaction. If I needed something, I bought it. If I wanted something to go my way, I paid for the opportunity. Money made my world go round, and it was the one thing I knew I could always rely on.
If only…
I glanced at my phone, then typed how to buy a bride into my search engine.
And then, very much against my better judgment, I started reading.