2
“Daddy!” My little girl’s cheeky smile welcomes me.
I open my arms, and she rushes towards me in her pink unicorn nightshirt, her damp hair still smelling like shampoo. “Gotcha, sprout,” I say, settling her on my hip as she wraps her arms around my neck.
“Anything I should know?” I ask Anna, my live-in nanny.
“She's been waiting up for you, Mr. Knight. She’s had dinner, a bath, we’ve done some coloring, and the homework school sent. She didn't want to go to bed without seeing you.”
“You did the coloring without me?”
“You weren’t here, Daddy. I never seen you ‘till bedtime.”
I nod to Anna. “Thanks, I’ll take it from here.” After a hard day at work, the best thing in my life is coming home to my girl. We live in a four-story townhouse-style apartment in the heart of Tribeca. Me, Dex, and Zach. There are only four units in the building, each accessed by a private elevator.
This works for us, because it keeps us close but separate. Gives us privacy when we need it, but a chance to easily meet up if we need to.
Naturally, being the oldest, I have the top floor penthouse. Dex and Zach have the lower floors, and we have a pool, sauna, and gym on the ground floor.
Unlike the office block we share with our father and the half-Knights in Midtown Manhattan, we have our own living space, away from the boys who live in SoHo. I like that distance between us.
With my girl in my arms, I swirl her around in the air. Brooke giggles. “Daddy, stop!”
Naturally, I obey, and sit down on her bed with her still in my arms. Soon she’ll be too big for this. She’s no longer the chubby toddler I used to know. Now she’s all long legs and skinny arms. She’s only four—almost five.
Brooke snuggles into me, and I sit down on her bed, holding her close. She’s growing up too fast. “I’m sorry I was late for dinner.”
“You’re going tomorrow. Anna said you’re going for a long time.”
I make a face, feeling genuinely wretched. I hate leaving her, but business comes first, for the moment. I would happily have taken Brooke with me, but her teacher said a week was too long to be out of school. That Brooke needs stability, and consistency. I already took her skiing with us a few months ago when I pulled her out of her class for ten days, so I guess she has a point. “It’s not a long time, sprout,” I tell her gently. “It’s not weeks and weeks and weeks. It’s seven days.”
Her face scrunches up just as her eyes widen. “That’s a long time, Daddy!”
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
“But when will you come back? It’s my party, ‘member?”
“I do remember. How could I forget such an important date?” I drop a kiss on her forehead. Because of Brooke’s birthday, I tacked a few days onto the start of the trip, not the end. There’s no way I’m missing this milestone. She beams me a smile that melts my heart and I rush to reassure her, stroking her damp hair. “I’m sorry things are so hectic, that I’m always so busy. Sut soon, one day, things will slow down and we will be able to spend lots of time together.”
“You promise?” Her eyes fill with hope.
“I promise.” But I feel like a liar saying these words, even though a part of me wants them to be true. We’re always working, doing deals, traveling, and expanding our empire. It seems as if our father thrives on all of this, but I’m becoming aware that I’m missing the chance to see my little girl grow up. She’s already without a mother, and I need to be a better parent, both a mother and a father. I’m doing a lousy job at the moment. This addiction to money that afflicts my father, I once had too—until Brooke was born. But I was forced to slow down and enjoy what little happiness we got to share as a family—Sophia, Brooke, and I. And then when Sophia died, I got caught up again in chasing deals and money. More as a distraction, than anything.
Brooke frowns as if she doesn’t believe me. “Anna’s not gonna be there,” she says.
What? I huff as I start to remember. Of course she isn’t. She’s going away that weekend on a bachelorette party. I forget whose. Might even be hers, for all I know. “You’re right, she isn’t.”
“You forgot, didn’t you?” She stares at me accusingly. How did she get so clever?
“No, no.” It’s not technically a lie, since I knew, just forgot this week. The meeting with my father was unnerving, and Alicia has been a distraction. “I know it’s your party.”
“Is Cari coming?”
My stomach drops. Fuck. Something else I forgot to do. I forgot to ask her. I beam a smile at my girl but she sees right through it.
“Did you forget, Daddy?”
I sure did. “I've been busy, sprout. Don’t you worry, I’ll sort it out.”
“I want Cari there.”
“I’ll talk to her,” I promise, knowing I’ll have to call Cari as soon as we’re in Monaco.
Brooke adores her, and I can’t imagine the party without Cari being there. Alicia and my previous girlfriends have commented on their unusual connection, but I’ve brought Brooke to the office many times over the years. From what I remember, Cari met her during her first week on the job and took a liking to Brooke straightaway. Brooke seemed to bond with Cari, too. What I find most perplexing is how an only child like Cari can be so good with children, when she doesn’t have any siblings of her own?
But Cari has so many endearing qualities, and she’s got a big heart. Her smile is infectious, as is her laughter, even though I haven’t seen much of these things in the last few months. “I can ask her, but she might be busy,” I forewarn my girl.
Brooke grins, already content with my answer. Any mention of Cari has that effect. I owe my assistant so much. “I’ll ask her, and let’s hope she can make it.” I press a kiss on her cheeks, first one then the other, then a kiss on her forehead, nose, and chin. She giggles. “How about I read a book to you?” I offer, wanting to end the night on a good note. I want her to be happy with me, and to feel loved and cherished.
She races to her bookshelf and grabs her favorite bedtime stories. As she curls up beside me, I kiss the top of her head, guilt gnawing at me. My daughter deserves more than a distracted father and a carousel of girlfriends who take up what little free time I have outside of business.
Business comes first most of the time, but I’m determined to fix things. I’m taking Brooke to Bermuda for a long vacation soon. It’s a business trip, but I’ll make sure I spend quality time with my little girl.
CARI
Just as I'm about to flip my fried egg, my phone buzzes and my heart sinks to my ankles when I see the name on the screen—Jett Knight.
My boss is FaceTiming me from Monaco?
That’s never happened before. Panic squeezes my chest as I smooth down my hair, feeling a slow wave of paralysis. Should I answer? Is this about Brooke? What if it’s an emergency?
I swipe to accept the call.
Jett’s familiar, intense gaze widens slightly, and he tilts his head—his classic tell that he’s surprised or caught off guard. I’ve spent enough time around him to know his every microexpression. “Hey.” His voice is rich and smooth, like velvet wrapping itself around me, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
Damn him.
Even from thousands of miles away, he manages to scramble my insides and effortlessly pull me under his spell.
I hate that he has this power over me. I hate that he does it while lounging in some luxury apartment half a world away, with his girlfriend draped around him like an accessory. “Did you mean to call me?” I ask, keeping my tone flat, hoping it hides the traitorous warmth creeping up my neck. I hate that he has this effect on me even when I’m in the comfort of my own home and out of his kingdom.
His brows furrow as he studies me, probably trying to figure out where I am. “Yes, that’s why I called you.”
My stomach flips. “You’ve never FaceTimed me before,” I blurt, my mind whirring. Monaco ... He’s in Monaco and the time difference must be ... what, six hours ahead? I smooth my hair again, stepping away from the kitchen and into the hallway, out of earshot from Eliana.
“Sorry to disturb you at home.” He shifts slightly, and behind him, the sky is painted in hues of gold and pink, the kind of sunset that makes one stop and stare. I feel a pang of envy. I know exactly where he’s staying. It’s the kind of place with seven-star service and views that make you gasp in awe. He doesn’t own a place in Monaco. Not yet, anyway, but it’s probably just a matter of time before the Knights stake their claim there too.
I know everything—where they’re staying, his meetings, even the restaurants I suggested for his precious downtime. It was torture planning this trip and there were times when I couldn’t help but imagine myself there in place of his girlfriend.
“I was just talking to Brooke. She FaceTimed me, which is why I didn’t think before calling you.”
My irritation melts at the mention of his daughter. Brooke is everything Jett isn’t—sweet, warm, and full of joy. “Is everything okay?” A flicker of worry gnaws at me. She’s back home with her nanny in that sprawling apartment. I wonder if she’s lonely.
“She’s fine. She reminded me of something I meant to ask you.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been so busy—”
“You’re always busy.” My words come out sharper than intended. He just nods like that's a fact of life. “What is it?”
Before he can answer, my gaze drifts to the background, where Alicia is lounging on the balcony wearing nothing but his shirt. The oversized fabric swallows her, but it’s impossible to miss the half-buttoned front. I grit my teeth. She’s tall, leggy, effortlessly stunning, and there’s no doubt what happened before she slipped into his clothes.
He clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him. “I should have asked before, but ... Anna’s going to a bachelorette party this weekend, and Brooke’s birthday is—”
Of course. I knew this was coming. He forgot. And now, like clockwork, here I am. His go-to fix-it girl. “You want me to help out at Brooke’s party,” I finish for him, my voice tight. It’s always something with him. Always asking for more.
“No.” He shakes his head so vigorously, I'm scared he'll give himself whiplash. “No, it's not that at all.” He pauses, keeping me on edge. If it's not that, then why is he calling me?
“Brooke was upset. She's growing older now and becoming more aware, and she told me she's really sad that her mommy is never there.”
“Oh.” I put a hand to my chest. I've always had a special place in my heart for that little girl. Ever since I found out how young she was when her mother passed away.
This year especially, Brooke's misfortune sits heavier on me. I was twenty-three years old when my mom passed away. Brooke was two. I’m certain she doesn't even remember her mom. “I'll be there,” I tell him. I don't need to hear the rest. Jett doesn't need to convince me.
I will be there.
“I'll help out, if I'm needed,” I offer. Anything to make Brooke's party so amazing that the little cherub won't even have time to feel sad. Besides, I have ulterior reasons for wanting to be there, because I got so carried away with the planning of her party. I took it right out of Anna’s hands when Jett told me that Anna was making a half-hearted attempt organizing the event. Brooke not having the party she dreamed of was something I couldn’t live with. If she had a mother, her mother would have done it. I offered to take it on and ended up planning the entire thing. Now I’m itching to see how the party ends up.
Before I can respond, Eliana sidles up next to me, and I can already sense her annoyance when she sees Jett’s face on my screen. She steps away and mimes hanging up, rolling her eyes in disapproval. She’s never liked how much Jett leans on me—or how I let him.
“Why's he calling you at home?” she mouths, shaking her head.
“Sorry, what?” I miss Jett’s last words, distracted by Eliana’s exaggerated gestures. She’s wildly gesticulating and mouthing things to me. She doesn’t like my boss, and what she hates even more is that I can’t often say “no” to him.
“I’m going to a concert that day,” I say, making out my friend’s message.
“You are?” His brows push together. “With whom?”
“The Mayflies,” I blurt out.
“With whom ?”
“What?” I don’t understand the question.
“So, you can’t babysit his daughter or work extra hours, no matter how tempting he makes it for you,” Eliana hisses directly in my ear.
Jett’s face turns somber. “Hey, look, then don't worry about it. I'll tell Brooke you had other plans—”
“No! Don't do that. Do not do that.” I can't, I won't let Brooke down. I’d hate to disappoint the motherless, sweet, and cute Brooke who deserves to have a wonderful birthday.
Especially if she's becoming aware that she’s probably the only one in her class who doesn't have a mother. My own loss, so raw and so recent, makes my heart bleed for that child.
“But you have plans. A concert, no less,” Jett says.
“I'll make it in time for the concert. You don’t have to worry about that, and you’re arriving in the morning,” I remind him. I hope he’ll be at the party on time. I told him that it was the day of Brooke’s party when I booked the flights, and reiterated that he was cutting it close landing the same day. He told me he had an important meeting that morning, one he couldn't possibly miss. He assured me that he would be back on time.
“I am, we are. I'll be at the party on time.” He stares at me. Even though he's looking at me through a phone, I feel as if he's right here. In my kitchen. Standing close by. Sometimes his gaze is so intense, my breath hitches in my throat.
Eliana jabs her finger at me. “What if you’re late for The Mayflies?” she hisses.
I won’t be , I mouth back.
“Is he deaf? You're busy,” Eliana says, loud enough so that Jett will hear. “We have tickets! What can’t he understand?”
“I already told him that,” I say, accidentally speaking that into the phone.
“Told me what?” Jett’s bright blue eyes settle on me.
“Can you check on my egg?” I whisper to my friend, desperate to get her off my back.
“It's burned to a crisp,” Eliana mutters, before disappearing.
“Sorry. That was my roommate.” I have a sneaky feeling that Jett’s heard most of that. Eliana doesn't hide her contempt for him, and she’s pissed off that I still work there. I’ve been trying to leave.
Trying.
But so far, it’s not going to plan.
It’s in moments like this, when I see Jett with his girlfriend in the background, that wish I'd never walked into this man’s life. It’s sheer torture being in the office, being around him. Ordering gifts for his lovers, booking plane tickets, making reservations for tables at the top restaurants, the best hotels, for him and someone else.
“I’ll pay you five hundred dollars for the trouble,” Jett says.
I choke in surprise. Five hundred dollars? Neon dollar signs flash before my eyes. That’s almost half my rent. Eliana is at my ear again, hissing, “Don't fall for it. He always does this.”
“No. I won't take any money for coming to Brooke's birthday party.”
“But I feel like I've guilt-tripped you into coming,” he says, “It’s just that Brooke wanted me to ask you, and I promised her I would. Please take the payment, Cari. This is a weekend, and you deserve your time off. You shouldn’t be at my beck and call on your free time.”
His words send a shiver down my spine. “I’m not at your beck and call, Mr. Knight.”
He raises an eyebrow, as if he's not sure why I've reverted to calling him Mr. Knight. This is also a new thing, ever since my mom died and Jett was there for me. We shared a moment. He was at my mother's bedside when the monitor flatlined and he held me in my time of need. When I was all alone.
Except for Jett.
After that, something shifted. I call him Mr. Knight when he strikes at something, and I don't care to analyze it. It's usually a moment when he’s annoyed me, or he’s said or done something that causes an inappropriate image to flash through my mind.
“Take the money, Cari.”
“I will not. I’m honored that Brooke invited me. Please let her know that I’ll be there.”
One day soon, I’ll have to find the strength to walk away from this man.
But not today.