Chapter 5
As much as I’d love to stay and ogle the Alexander Skarsgard doppelg?nger now working behind my bar, my family’s more important so as soon as I finish my drink I say goodbye to my sister and head to Dad’s Fifth Avenue office.
But it’s a wasted trip because apparently he’s not in today.
His assistant tells me it’s because Izzy has a fever.
At my look of alarm, Joseph quickly clarifies, “It’s nothing serious—she just needs rest, Tylenol…that sort of thing.”
My alarm quickly morphs into a mix of relief and surprise, because despite being a pretty hands-on parent for someone who owns a multi-billion-dollar media corporation, a mild fever isn’t something that would usually cause Dad to skip work.
Joseph shrugs. “Yeah, I know. But I guess he’s probably still shaking off the bug he had yesterday. Maybe that’s what Izzy has?”
I have to bite my lip to hold back a snort of amusement. I very much doubt it…
I thank Joseph then make my way out of the building, heading across town to Dad’s Chelsea brownstone.
I find him in the living room watching a history documentary, a sleeping Izzy curled up in his lap.
“Well, you don’t seem like a total wreck,” I observe, falling into the armchair opposite the sofa.
I mean, he doesn’t look great—he hasn’t shaved today and it’s pretty obvious he hasn’t been sleeping well—but he’s not the total mess I was expecting after hearing Piper’s description and learning he’d skipped work again.
“Piper made it seem like you were barely clinging to your sanity.”
“I wouldn’t go that far but yesterday wasn’t a pretty sight,” he says ruefully. “What are you doing home, anyway? I thought you were staying in California for Thanksgiving.”
“Piper called in an SOS,” I say with a shrug.
I’m not going to go into the full details; he’s got enough to be concerned with right now.
“So…does your “friend” need any more advice?” I ask pointedly, lifting my hands to form air quotes as I reference the conversation we had just before I left for LA.
It honestly never occurred to me that he might have been referring to himself when he asked for my opinion on a straight guy who occasionally engaged in anal sex as a form of stress relief but had recently experienced a more intimate encounter, which had led to some confusion.
For one thing, my dad has never been as comfortable as I am talking about sex, and for another it didn’t strike me as odd that he might try to gather this information to better understand a friend’s situation. That’s just the kind of guy he is.
Of course, the penny dropped the second Piper told me about the guy he’d been seeing. And I can tell by the groan he lets out as he swipes a hand over his pink-tinged face that he regrets sharing so much information with me.
“Dad, I’m not judging,” I assure him, holding my palms up.
“And if that’s what works for you, then go for it.
” I’m well aware of Dad’s struggles with Generalized Anxiety Disorder; the last thing I want is to make him feel uncomfortable about his chosen coping mechanism.
I consider telling him about my own strategies for shutting off my brain but I’m not sure hearing about my preference for sensory deprivation kink is what he needs right now.
“I’m assuming this guy was the one with all the kissing and the freaking out? ”
He nods. “Yeah, but I got over that. Things were going really well.”
“So, what happened to fuck it up?”
He hesitates for a moment, glancing down at Izzy with a familiar frown.
And my hackles start to rise because I already know what he’s going to say.
“He found out about Natalia. And when I tried to explain the situation, I just…froze. The anxiety just took over and I couldn’t get the words out.
And all he heard was that I’m married and I don’t plan to divorce her. ”
I bite down on my jaw and draw in a slow breath, for once managing to hold my tongue instead of railing on the psycho bitch who’s still ruining Dad’s life even though she’s not here. “Have you tried talking to him since then?”
“No.”
“Dad, what the fuck?” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “You’re supposedly really into this guy, and yet you’re not even going to fight for him? You’re just going to let him think you’re an asshole cheater?”
Dad lets out a defeated sigh, his expression miserable.
“It’s not that simple. Deacon…he’s…good.
He’s a really nice guy. He’s not going to want to be with me while I’m married, no matter the circumstances.
I should have been upfront with him from the start.
Now I’ve turned him into a cheater, and I don’t think he’ll be able to forgive that. ”
I can’t help letting out a derisive huff. “Sounds like a fucking snoozefest if you ask me. Is he at least hot?”
Dad rolls his eyes. “I’m not answering that.”
My lips curve into a wry smirk. “A non-answer always means yes, Dad. Everyone knows this.”
He lets out a huff of amusement, shaking his head. “I’m sorry you came all the way back here to deal with this. But I really don’t think there’s anything that can be done about it.”
I eye him for a long moment as I mull the situation over.
I’m sure most people would say I should just stay out of it and let Dad take care of his own business, but I’m not sure I can do that.
He’s far too accustomed to sacrificing his own happiness; he’ll never take proactive steps to work this shit out.
I finally nod, having made my decision. It’s clear I need to have a chat with this guy myself. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
Dad looks doubtful but I decide not to clarify. Instead, I get to my feet and stride over to the sofa, collecting my baby sister from his arms. The unavoidable jostling causes her to stir a little, a small smile touching her feverish face as she sees me holding her. “Jazz?”
I grin back at her. “Hey, beautiful. Go back to sleep. You need to be all better for our special brother-sister day tomorrow.”
She promptly closes her eyes and snuggles against my chest, falling asleep again in mere moments.
Of course, we’ll spend the day together and have a sleepover whether she’s feeling better or not—I haven’t seen her in weeks and Dad clearly needs a break—but it’ll be much more fun if she’s her usual, sunny self.
“Go take a shower,” I tell Dad. “You look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks,” he says with a wry huff, but there’s appreciation glimmering in his sapphire gaze.
“Just for clarification purposes,” I ask as he moves across the living room, “is this some other Deacon or is it the kindergarten teacher you wouldn’t let me meet because you thought I’d try to seduce him and make things weird for Izzy?”
It’s close to four by the time I get to Izzy’s school and the place is completely quiet, causing me to let out a frustrated sigh. Fuck…I was really hoping to get this done today…
I’m just contemplating the wisdom of breaking into the Principal’s office to find out this guy’s home address when I see someone moving around in the classroom I’m passing.
And what do you know? It’s the kindergarten classroom.
I have no idea how many kindergarten classes this school has, but if this isn’t Deacon then whoever’s in charge of staff hiring is clearly on a mission to make a “sexy teachers” calendar.
I can see why Dad might have been concerned about me meeting him, because he’s exactly the kind of guy I’d be into—tall and fit with an air of easy confidence about him.
And best of all, even though he looks toppy as fuck, if I didn’t know better I’d read him as a guy who loves to get dominated—my absolute favorite kind of sub.
Unfortunately, I do know better, which makes him so much less appealing. Probably a good thing since my dad’s all in love with him and shit.
But still, two sexy as fuck guys in one day—Welcome back to New York.
I tap on the door frame to alert him to my presence, prompting him to turn to the door, abandoning the poster he’d been pinning to the wall.
Damn, I was enjoying that view of his abs. What? I already said I wasn’t going to make a move. I can look, can’t I?
“Are you Deacon Stapleton?”
“Yeah…” he says, brow furrowed. “That’s me.”
“Good. I have a question for you, then. What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole?”
He blinks owlishly, clearly stunned. “Excuse me?”
“First you end things with my dad over some stupid, fucked up bullshit that’s been completely blown out of proportion. Then you don’t even let him explain. And now you’re just sitting around here moping like a fucking loser because you’re too chicken shit to talk to him.”
He juts his chin, clearly aggravated. Whatever, he needs to hear this shit. “I’m not moping.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Dude, you’re a fucking wreck. It’s pathetic.”
“You know you’re being a total asshole right now, right?” he says, hitting me with a flinty look.
Was that supposed to be breaking news? “I’m always an asshole. You’re not getting special treatment.”
Deacon lets out a sigh of obvious frustration, lifting a hand to rake through his dark blond hair. “Look, I get that you want to stick up for your dad, but you really don’t know—”
“Don’t know everything?” I cut in, issuing him with a sharp look. “Fuck that, I know the whole sordid story. You’re the one who knows fucking shit.”
He folds his arms in a defensive stance, eyes narrowed. “Fine—what don’t I know? I’m not sure there’s much that can top him being married this whole time.”
Fucking hell, this guy. “Look, I don’t know why he didn’t tell you about Natalia. Maybe it’s because you were only fucking for a few weeks and he wasn’t ready to share every single detail about his private life.”
I see Deacon flinch at that and feel a stab of guilt for my blunt disregard of his and Dad’s relationship.
I know what’s between them is far more serious than I just suggested; I spoke to Dad about it just an hour ago.
He’s in love with this guy; and if Deacon didn’t feel the same way my Dad still being legally married wouldn’t be the issue keeping them apart.
I let out a heavy sigh and opt for a gentler tone.
If there’s a chance for this guy to be a true partner for Dad then I should probably try to be a little more respectful.
“Or…maybe you were his happy place and he didn’t want to tarnish that by mentioning her.
Because, trust me, that bitch is fucking poison.
Even when she’s not trying she’s still ruining things for him. ”
He frowns, shaking his head. “I still don’t understand. He’s the one who lied—”
I groan, raking a hand through my hair. Fucking hell—seriously? I try to be nice… “Fuck, you’re not getting it—she’s a trigger, Deacon. And I know he told you all about that shit so don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“Yeah, I do, but I still don’t—”
I hit him with a penetrating look, trying to force the information to stick in his brain through the power of my gaze.
“All Dad wants to do is forget she exists. Marrying her was the biggest mistake he ever made.” Considering the current situation, I correct myself, “Well, actually, right now he’d probably say not telling you about her was his biggest mistake.
But if he’d never married her to begin with he wouldn’t have been keeping it from you, so… ”
“But he did marry her,” Deacon says, still looking miserable. “She does exist. Why hasn’t he just divorced her if he hates her so much? I asked him if he was planning to and he said no.”
“Well, if you’d given him more than two seconds to explain, you might have learned that she’s holding him to ransom until the terms of their pre-nup come into effect.
She’s threatened to take Izzy if he tries it before they hit the ten-year mark,” I tell him, unable to keep the sharpness from my tone.
“Fuck.” He swipes a hand over his face and steps back to lean against the chalkboard, as though he needs it for support in the face of this revelation.
“Bet you feel pretty shitty now,” I say with mild satisfaction as I watch his reaction.
Yeah, I’m kind of being an asshole right now but I think it’s somewhat justified.
I know logically that even if Deacon is aware of Dad’s anxiety he’s probably never seen him on the verge of a panic attack before, but that hasn’t stopped me from wanting to punch him in his incredibly attractive face for just walking out and leaving Dad to deal with his distress the other night.
My reaction prompts Deacon to issue me with an aggravated glare. “Clearly you’ve never been heartbroken.”
I let out a derisive huff. “Fuck no. I don’t do any of that love and romance shit.”
He rolls his eyes. “Color me surprised.”
“But let’s just clear one thing up—you broke your own heart, dude,” I say with a pointed look. “Dad could have explained all of this if you’d given him a chance to. You could have spent the past few days fucking instead of moping around like pathetic idiots.”
I wrap up the conversation with Deacon and leave the school, confident that my role as cupid has been a successful one.
I consider going straight home—it’s been a long as fuck day and I’m running on about two hours’ sleep—but I decide to return to Whiskey Tango instead.
There’s a sexy bartender there who needs to meet his boss.