Chapter Two
Wren
I watch Marcus walk away. Every woman he passes, and some of the men, turn to look at him as he goes by. I’m not surprised. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in real life.
He was gorgeous at eighteen. Tall, slim, dark, and brooding. He shocked me when he asked me out. I didn’t expect it at all. I was five years older, and he didn’t give a damn.
But he was totally the wrong guy for me then, and he’s still the wrong guy now.
I’ve read all the headlines over the years.
Studied photographs of him with different supermodels.
I was relieved to dodge that bullet. Mars Ashford would have broken my heart back then, and I know he’d do the same to it now, if I put it into his care.
I return my gaze to Caesar and find him studying me.
The two brothers are very similar in looks, both carbon copies of their father.
Caesar has a few gray threads in his hair, a couple more laughter lines at the corner of his brown eyes, which are a shade darker than Marcus’s.
They’re both handsome. Caesar’s just a little less… intense.
I push Marcus to the back of my mind and focus on his brother. It’s taken me a while to pluck up the courage to do this. I need to concentrate.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” I say. My mouth has gone dry, and I sip some water.
“I’m sorry I was late.” His voice, like Marcus’s, is deep and rich.
“That’s okay. Um… I know you’re the patron of the Foundation. If you have things you should be doing, this can wait…”
“No, it’s okay. The press would much rather take photos of Aurelia. Anyway, it’s nice to see you.” He sips his whiskey and smiles.
I’ve known him for a long time. We’ve kept in touch on Instagram since we graduated, commenting on each other’s photos and sending videos of dogs wearing shoes or cats falling into wastepaper bins.
I like him. A lot. He’s been a good friend. But there’s never been anything romantic between us. The laser-focused attention of one Ashford boy was enough.
You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight. I can’t believe Marcus said that. Or that he still likes me. His jacket around my shoulders feels as intimate as his arms around me. It smells of his cologne, something undoubtedly expensive and deeply sensual.
I’m thinking about the wrong brother! I shake my head to dislodge Marcus and smile at Caesar.
“So… how are you?” I ask. “Marcus said you’re running the company now.”
“Not quite. He’s being modest. Dad’s still technically the CEO, but Marcus and I pretty much run it together. I do strategy and operations. Marcus looks after the international side of things, and he’s the driving force behind our expansion. He has a lot of vision.”
“So he’s not just a pretty face?”
He grins. “No, but it helps.”
I smile. “Aurelia looks well, too.”
“Yeah, she oversees the public side of things. She’s grown into the role. A natural drama queen.”
I chuckle, remembering the fifteen-year-old beauty sulking when Caesar told her she couldn’t come on the boat with us because we had alcohol. “She was always… theatrical.”
“Yeah, some things don’t change.”
“And how are your folks? Both well?”
He looks at his whiskey glass for a moment. “Dad’s fine,” he says. “Mum was diagnosed with breast cancer last year.”
My eyes widen, and I inhale. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” He hasn’t mentioned it to me, and they’ve obviously kept it out of the headlines.
“She’s just finished chemo, and she’s doing well. But it shocked Dad. He’s talking about retiring.”
“Gosh. How old is he?”
“Fifty-nine. He literally only dropped it into the conversation a few days ago in passing. We haven’t had a chance to sit down and discuss what will happen if he does.” He smiles. “But enough about me. Tell me about you. You’re back from Australia permanently?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry that didn’t work out.”
“Yeah, me too. I missed home, anyway. It’s good to be back.”
“Are you working?”
“Yes, I started halfway through last year at Pohutukawa Primary School in Birkenhead. It’s a nice little school. And I live just around the corner, so I can walk to work every day.”
“Are you enjoying it?”
“I love it. We had such fun doing the artwork for the Art Auction. And it’s always good for kids to help those less fortunate than themselves.”
He nods. “I can see that.” His gaze drifts away and he scans the bar. I chew my bottom lip. He’s a busy man, and Aurelia has already scolded him for disappearing. He might have to go soon. I need to get a move on.
“So… you’re not married yet?” I tease. “I thought some lucky woman would have captured you by now.”
He snorts. “Nope. Managed to avoid the noose so far.”
“Not dating either?” I already know the answer. I’ve been very thorough with my research.
He shakes his head. “It’s hard to weed out the fortune hunters.”
I’ve watched the family’s meteoric rise over the years, and I’d guessed it would be a problem for all the siblings. It’s why I have to be very careful with my proposal.
“Are you dating again?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Absolutely not. Breaking up with Cory was very traumatic.”
He frowns. “Oh, really?”
I trail a finger through a drop of condensation on the table, thinking about the look on Marcus’s face when he realized Cory had cheated on me.
I wish I hadn’t mentioned to him that the same thing happened with Tim and Richard.
I might think to myself that I’m not good enough to keep a man, but I shouldn’t tell guys that.
I look back up at Caesar. “I’ve tried to put myself out there again, but I’ve had some horrendous experiences. Tinder sucks.”
He looks alarmed. “Oh God, yes. You shouldn’t go anywhere near dating apps.”
“Well, the only guys I meet are married men with kids, and I’m definitely not going down that road.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I get that.”
It’s time. I take a deep breath and hold his gaze. “Um… I’d like to ask you something.”
He lifts a brow. “Oh?”
“Okay. Well. I’m thirty-three now, and I’ve decided… I just don’t want to play the dating game anymore. But… I love children. And I want a baby.” There, I’ve said it. I tremble at what I’m about to do.
He studies my face. I can see him trying to work out where this is going. “That’s understandable. And you’d make a great mother.”
“Thank you. I’ve been thinking about it for months. And finally, I booked an appointment at the fertility clinic, to talk about a sperm donor.”
His eyebrows rise. “Oh?”
“They told me there’s at least a two-year waiting list for single women.”
“Wow. That’s harsh.”
“Yeah, it’s much longer than I thought. The thing is, if I have to wait two years, I’ll be thirty-five. And would you believe it; they call that ‘Advanced Maternal Age’ or… wait for it… a geriatric pregnancy!”
He tries not to laugh, and fails. “Shit. I’m sorry. It’s not funny.”
“It is funny, but it’s also horrific.”
“Aw, Wren. Women have babies after thirty-five all the time.”
“That may be, but I don’t want to be a geriatric mother.”
His expression softens. “Yeah, I get that.”
“The thing is… the clinic said my best option is to approach someone I know. A friend. Someone I trust. And ask him if he’ll… donate.”
My face heats, although he probably can’t see it beneath the mask.
He stares at me. His lips part, but no words come out.
I wait, letting it sink in. I try to stay calm, but the hope that bubbles inside me makes my heart race. Please, please, please, please, please say yes…
He lifts a hand, pushes the mask up over his hair, and removes it. Swallowing hard, I do the same, and we study each other across the table.
“You’re asking me to be a sperm donor?” he says.
I nod.
He looks a mixture of bewildered and touched. “I’m incredibly flattered.”
“I’m asking because we’ve known each other a long time, and I consider you a good friend. But I need you to know it has nothing to do with your money.”
He blinks then, as if that thought hadn’t occurred to him, but he realizes it should have.
“I don’t want anything from you,” I continue firmly.
“Apart from your sperm, I mean. Not your money, or your time. I’m not expecting you to be involved at all.
You don’t even have to be named on the birth certificate if you don’t want.
And if you’d like to draw up some kind of contract to that end, I’ll happily sign it and say I’ll never approach you for anything. ”
“Okay. I understand.”
We sit there quietly. Inside, the ball is in full swing.
The band is playing a dance track, and the dance floor is full of people bouncing to the music.
Everywhere, I can see wealth, power, and beauty.
This is Caesar’s world now. It’s not mine.
I don’t fit in here. I’d much rather be home in the bath with a good book.
There’s a huge Christmas tree in the corner of the bar. Its fairy lights twinkle, transporting me back to my childhood. Christmas is so magical when you’re a child. Or it should be. Santa, Rudolph, the elves, sacks full of rustling presents…
I found out the truth about Santa when I was six. I was far too young. I want to recapture the magic with my own child. Leave out a mince pie and a carrot when they go to bed. Look out at the night sky to see if we can spot Santa’s sleigh. I want it so much, it’s a permanent deep ache inside me.
“Why me?”
I look back at Caesar. He’s watching me, and now that I can see his expression I realize he’s puzzled. “If it’s not about the money, why choose me? I mean, I know we’re friends, but we haven’t seen each other for a long time. You must have other male friends you’re closer to.”
“There’s a lot more to you than money,” I say softly. “You’re a good man. Kind. Considerate. Thoughtful. Funny. Hardworking. Gentle, but authoritative. Confident but not arrogant. They’re wonderful traits, the kind I’d like my child to have.”
His brow creases a little, as if he doesn’t quite believe me. “I really am incredibly touched. I think it’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”