25. Alistair
ALISTAIR
“Daddy, pleeeease can I go outside?” Kenna asked, following me down the hall toward my office. It had been a week of constant badgering, and having to repeatedly say no to her was making us both miserable. “Please, please. Just for a little while?”
“I already said no, sweetheart.”
“But I’ll be so good and clean up all my toys after tea and eat all my mash.”
“You should be eating your mash anyway.”
Kenna pouted, folding her little hands together. “Please.”
“No,” I repeated. I was so sick of that fucking word.
And so was Kenna, judging by the way she stamped her foot, stopping in the middle of the hall to scowl up at me, those tiny eyebrows pinched together in the most furious frown her sweet little face could muster.
I hated upsetting her. But there was no other option.
The paparazzi had descended en masse, setting up camp at the edge of the property and in town, flying their bloody drones all over, hoping for a glimpse of us.
It felt much worse this time, and I think it was partly because Kenna was older. She was used to having a lot of freedom around Braeburn, thanks to my friends and Madison. Freedom that I’d had to take away over the past few days, for her own good.
“You always say no!” Kenna thrust her arm out, holding up five fingers. “I just want to go outside with Princess for five minutes. Then we’ll come back inside.”
“Absolutely not.”
She huffed, running down to the playroom, throwing her arms around Madison’s legs. “Daddy said no!” she wailed.
Madison laid her hand on the back of Kenna’s head with such gentle care and obvious affection that Kenna seemed at least a little calmer just from that. Madison had a magic touch—being close to her, being cared for by her, was enough to make anyone feel better.
Not that that was an option for me. Not anymore. I looked away to spare myself the temptation to step closer.
“It’s not fair,” Kenna said, sniffling into Madison’s leg.
“Not everything is fair, Kenna,” I told her. “But Daddy knows best, and it’s his job to keep you safe.”
Kenna grumbled, “I don’t want to be safe. I want to play outside.”
Madison finally glanced up at me. I didn’t know if that look in her eyes was judgment or something worse, but I couldn’t let myself care, either.
I was doing what was best, whether the ladies of the house agreed with me or not.
Since the media had arrived, I’d laid down a strict ban on Kenna being allowed outside for any reason.
Period. Despite her pleas, that included going to Weston’s to hang out with Aisling or going into town to see Locke and Isla.
I knew Kenna was struggling with the new rules, but it was my job to protect her, especially from things she didn’t understand.
“Why don’t you two see if there are any nice bead sets you want to order?” I told them. “You can do that while I finish my meetings.”
“Sure,” Madison said, turning her back on me to usher Kenna into the playroom.
Kenna sighed heavily, looking between us briefly. I knew she’d picked up on the distance between us even though we’d done our best to act normally when she was around.
“Maybe we can play a game together in about an hour.”
Madison didn’t even acknowledge me. I swallowed down the hard lump in my throat. It dropped into my stomach like a weight.
After our fight last week where we’d ended our personal relationship, I’d wrestled with how I was going to hire another nanny in the middle of this crisis, assuming Madison would immediately leave.
So I’d sucked it up and asked her to stick around.
She’d grudgingly said yes. For Kenna. I was thankful, but it was damn painful having her so close yet so far.
The rational part of my brain appreciated that.
The messy, confused, irrational part of me hated that we were no longer together.
Sometimes it felt like handling childcare on my own would be easier than constantly fighting against my own instincts.
I couldn’t simply reach for her in the mornings.
I couldn’t wrap my arms around her, chin on the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.
I couldn’t tease out a bubbly smile or fix her a cup of coffee—with way too much sugar, just the way she liked it—in the morning before Kenna woke up.
I couldn’t look forward to evenings tucked away in the library, talking about the places she wanted to travel to or the companies I wanted to invest in.
The bed next to me was always empty, always cold.
It was simply over, and a hollow ache throbbed every time I looked at her.
Even though I knew it was for the best. My focus needed to be on protecting Kenna and myself.
If Madison wasn’t willing to understand that, then there was no room for her in my life.
I had to do what made sense in this situation—close the circle, walls up, trust no one.
No more spilling my guts. No more vulnerabilities.
No more pain points the media could exploit.
No more Madison.
I stepped into my office, closing the door to the playroom, desperate to sink into work and block out everything else.
Was it horrible that I was literally praying for some even worse news to break out to redirect the nation’s attention?
Hell, I’d pay good money for another scandal to come along right about now.
My laptop rang as a video call came through from Alfie. I answered it.
“Hey, boss,” he said. “All right?”
I knew he wasn’t really expecting me to answer that, so I simply grunted. If nothing else, at least business was going reasonably well. People still wanted my money. “What’s on the agenda this week?”
“Meetings and more meetings,” Alfie quipped. “You said you wanted to stay busy, so I’ve loaded you up. I’ll send the calendar through after this call. Also, Brian Marsh has reached back out to chat.”
I perked up in my chair. “The American with the travel app?” After we’d touched base in London at breakfast, we’d had an initial call. I’d told him what I could offer, and he’d gone away to consider things.
Alfie nodded. “He wants to proceed with your investment terms.”
“Okay, great,” I said, relieved to have a bit of positive news.
“You want me to do some more digging into the start-up before we proceed?” Alfie asked.
“Nah,” I said. “Let’s get the paperwork drawn up.”
“You’re sure, boss? You usually like to do your due diligence—”
“What I’d like to do is watch the Voyages board start shaking in their boots when Destination comes online.
” I leaned back in my chair, imagining it now.
Wouldn’t it just be grand to watch Voyages topple under the weight of a bigger and better travel platform?
If Destination succeeded, it would be a direct competitor.
And now that I was coming on board as an investor, I was going to do everything in my power to make sure it did succeed. See them call me a liability then.
“I’m just saying,” Alfie cut in, “they’re asking for a pretty hefty investment, and we don’t even know if their developers are legit or—”
I frowned. Alfie never second-guessed me. Yes, I was jumping over steps, but this was exactly the type of win I needed right now. If I couldn’t get rid of the damn paparazzi, I could at least show the Voyages board what they lost out on by getting rid of me. “I’ve made my decision.”
Alfie adjusted his glasses, regarding me with what looked like disappointment before he masked it. “…Okay, then. I’ll start pulling together the paperwork.”
I nodded. “Book me a call with Brian sometime tomorrow. I want to discuss the details.”
“Will do, boss.” Alfie nodded. “Talk later.”
Twenty minutes later, I was reading the Destination project overview again, refamiliarizing myself with the notes before my follow-up call with Brian tomorrow. A knock on my door broke my concentration. “Not now, sweetheart,” I called.
The door popped open. It wasn’t Kenna.
“You’ve never called me sweetheart before,” Locke quipped. “But I don’t hate it.”
I blinked in surprise as he and Weston walked into my office. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “How did you sneak past the paps?”
“We needed a proof of life,” Locke said.
“We wanted to check on you in person,” Weston added. “And there was no sneaking. It’s not like they don’t know who we are. We simply didn’t engage.”
Fat lot that would help. The damn reporters would just make something up.
“We know it’s been a wild few days,” Weston said.
They literally had no idea. This was my worst nightmare come back to life.
“Also wanted to make sure you hadn’t taken to shooting down the drones yet,” Locke said, walking around to my window to spy between the blinds.
There was an amused edge to his voice, and it rubbed me the wrong way. Nothing about this was funny. I gritted my teeth. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve said that every time we’ve texted,” Weston said, dropping down in the chair across from my desk. “But are you really fine?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I shot back, annoyed. First Alfie, now them. Was this going to be the day of everyone second-guessing me?
He exchanged a look with Locke. “Aside from the fact you went to see Jessica. Alone. You also broke things off with Madison the same night and—”
“I’m fine,” I growled again. I hadn’t shared much with them other than we weren’t together anymore.
“Mate, you don’t have to lie to us,” Locke said. “I don’t think anyone would be handling this well.”
I bristled. Just because Madison and I had ended things didn’t mean I wasn’t handling this situation well.
I was handling this fucking amazingly. The paps hadn’t gotten so much as a glimpse of me or Kenna since I’d left London.
I hoped they were bored to tears, parked there outside the estate, freezing their arses off.
“You know, with everything going on,” Weston said, looking down at my desk. “I wonder if the best thing would be to take a step back from work for a while.”
Locke nodded. “We remember how rundown you got during the trial. If you take a breather, you can focus on—”
“What, Kenna?” I snapped. Neither of them had any fucking clue how draining this situation actually was, but despite it all, I’d never lost sight of the fact I was a father first. “She’s always been my top priority.”
Weston blinked at me, a little shocked at my outburst. “I know. I’d never think otherwise.”
I curled my hand around the arm of my chair. I was more than capable of handling the invasion of the press, working, and taking care of my daughter. And with Madison and me no longer together, that was one less thread pulling at my attention.
“Look, mate,” Locke said, sitting down on the edge of my desk. “We’re just here to show support. Remind you that we’ve got your back. Say the word, and we’ll sic Weston’s homicidal pony on those camera crews.”
“What are you implying?” I said. “That I can’t handle this on my own?”
“Not at all,” Locke said, a line appearing between his eyebrows. “We’re just trying to remind you that you’re not on your own. And maybe cheer you up a bit.”
“I don’t need cheering. I’m not distraught,” I bit out. “Or whatever mess the press are painting me to be.”
The tabloid headlines had been scathing after my trip to London. Alistair Shaw runs right back to ex-girlfriend following her arrest…Billionaire lapdog at your service…It was ridiculous how they persisted in dragging me across the coals. I wasn’t going to let it shake me this time.
“We didn’t say you were a mess,” Locke argued.
I shook my head. “I don’t need you and Weston giving me advice like you actually understand.”
Locke scoffed. “You’re not the first guy to have his business and his life dragged through the mud. I had my own run-in with it last year.”
Was he actually kidding? Because he had one business deal fall through and a couple of media outlets mocked him over it for half a second? Did he really think that compared? “You have no concept of what it is to have your entire world picked apart by these vultures.”
“Mate, why are you taking every statement of concern as a criticism?” Weston asked.
“Why are you being like this?” Locke agreed.
“Because maybe I’m sick of everyone acting like they know what I need better than I do. What I need? Is to be left the hell alone,” I growled. “I think the two of you should leave.”
“Are you taking the piss?” Locke said. “We’re here because we care about you, and—”
“And I’m telling you to take your care and shove it. You can see yourselves out.”
Weston got up and walked to the door. “Call us when you quit being so confrontational.”
Locke followed him. “What he means is call us when you stop being a bloody arse.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” I muttered as Locke slammed the door behind them.