Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
Sebastian
T he whole bachelor event and all the ridiculous fallout that came with it was finally in the past. I hadn’t spoken to my mother in the three months since the event, and I felt it was best to keep it that way.
I’d love to say that during these past three months, Darcy and I had grown and flourished in our relationship, but I’d been damn busy with the winery, wanting that part of my life buttoned up and running so I could finally leave for New York and go over the business with my father.
I hadn’t been entirely out of contact with my father, as that would have been extremely difficult with my position in our various corporations. Still, we kept things strictly professional, which was the extent of our interaction. No personal comments were exchanged between my father and me, and that was how I wanted it to stay. It was the only way I knew to keep things in my control and functioning like my family needed. I would not allow my parents to intervene in my personal life, and I was glad they understood that or at least hadn’t challenged me again. Their meddling would be the downfall of our family legacy, something my ancestors had sacrificed and died to achieve for centuries.
The bottom line was this: my parents couldn’t afford for me to abandon my life as an Aster. My younger brothers, Mark and John, were a completely different story. They had not been groomed as I was to take over when my father could no longer run things. We all knew that, and that was the power I held.
“Are you excited to have Charlotte fly out?” Darcy asked, curled into my side.
I ran my hand over her bare shoulder, appreciating this short time she and I had been able to spend together. While I’d been busy at the vineyard, Darcy had taken numerous trips to Los Angeles, meeting with her editor and that damn fool who ran the magazine. Darcy’s write-up about me was adorable, to say the very least. She kept it all very basic but charming, telling the story of how we were two enemies who had become lovers. Her endearing way of keeping things away from my dark and tragic past and keeping her article focused on how our relationship came to be was the kindest thing she could offer in writing about my life.
That was what everyone wanted to know about, anyway. The woman who stole my cold, dark heart, as Darcy had put it in one of her paragraphs. It was light-hearted, humorous, and a perfect way to keep the gossip from buzzing about the bachelor auction that became a comedy show starring my mother and me.
“I’m excited,” I answered. “However, I feel like a horrible piece of shit when I think about the fact that I haven’t really missed her.” Darcy leaned up to lay over on my chest, running her fingers down the center of it while her breasts pushed softly against my warm skin. “What a monstrous thing to admit. I’m ashamed that I’ve been no better a father than my own. Charlotte deserves better than me.”
“I’m not listening to this,” Darcy said with irritation. “Stop talking down about yourself. No situation is too big to remedy.”
I sat up and pulled a pillow behind me to rest against the headboard of our bed in the remodeled room that Darcy once hated and now loved.
“You can butter me up and speak in inspirational quotes all day long,” I informed her, “but it’s a plain fact. I was raised differently than you, and that’s why I have virtually no relationship with my daughter. She’s the ultimate blessing in my life, to be sure; I just don’t know where to begin to form any kind of a bond with her.”
Darcy frowned, “Well, take the time that she’s here to figure that out.”
“What do I do, though?” I questioned, entirely lost about which direction to go. “Do I take her on a winery tour or perhaps have Antonio make my two-year-old fried grasshoppers to sample? I have no idea. Her nanny will be here, and I believe she has planned things to?—”
“Stop right there, buddy,” Darcy interrupted, as she’d been so fond of doing since our first meeting. I was distracted after she sat up and exposed her full breasts, and she batted my hands away playfully when I attempted to run my hand over them. “This is your time to bond with her. You take her on whatever fun little excursions the nanny might’ve planned and make some cute memories with her.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, maybe the LA Zoo?” she said with a laugh. “Has she ever been to Disneyland?”
“Good God,” I said in utter annoyance. “I’m quite confident you know me well enough to answer those questions. Can you imagine me visiting a filthy, hot zoo to stare at animals that have been placed in confinement? Even worse, do I seem the type to place myself in confinement by visiting an overcrowded theme park?”
Darcy rolled her eyes at me. “It’s not about you , handsome,” she smiled. “It’s about watching your daughter’s reaction to those things.”
“When it comes to visiting places like that, it very much becomes about me, lover,” I said. “I will not be pushed and shoved at theme parks or forced to watch animals in captivity.”
Darcy started laughing, and I could only roll my eyes in return.
“Of all the places I thought you’d hate, I didn’t think a zoo would be on the list.”
“Why not?” I answered her. “I may be part of the minority here, but I’m not a fan of them.”
“Well, many people agree with you, my mother being one of them; however, I would’ve never guessed you’d care about animals in confinement.” She laughed again, shaking her head. “While I understand where you’re coming from, some of those animals cannot survive in the wild. They’re living happy, full lives in the zoo because they were rescued, not stolen from some safari trip and thrown into a tiny cage.”
“It is unnatural for any animal to be confined, no matter the reason,” I said, feeling as though I lived my entire life like one of those animals in a zoo. I’d been confined when all I wanted was the freedom and life I had with Darcy now.
“But at least they’re alive,” Darcy countered.
“You realize ‘at least they’re alive’ is far and away the worst argument for imprisonment I’ve ever heard, right? Thank God you aren’t a prison warden, Jesus Christ,” I teased.
“Okay, that’s not how I meant it, but you’ve definitely made a fair point,” she laughed.
“I’m just surprised at your lack of sympathy for wild animals, considering you were named after an orphaned monkey,” I joked.
“Hey, that orphaned monkey is most likely dead,” Darcy shot back humorously. “If he were in the LA Zoo, he’d be swinging happily from vine to vine, alive and well. Perhaps even getting an overabundance of treats from little girls like your daughter and living his best life. Instead, he was orphaned, named by humans, and probably thrown back in the jungle to fend for himself.”
“You really believe Darcel is dead?” I questioned as seriously as I could.
“With a name like that, yes,” she sighed dramatically. “I know that poor bastard is dead.”
“Well, you share his name and are doing rather well for yourself, if I do say so myself,” I chuckled. “Perhaps Darcel is swinging from tree to tree in the rainforest somewhere. Maybe he met a beautiful lady monkey, had children, and ate his fair share of bananas while living free as a bird.”
“Take Charlotte to the zoo,” Darcy pressed. “I think you both will love it. You can’t help but bond when you share the great delight of seeing those animals, even if you feel sorry for them.”
“We’re not going to the zoo,” I said, more frustrated with Darcy for pressing an issue I disagreed with than I realized. “She’s two years old. She won’t remember it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Darcy pressed. “It’s something fun for both of you. She’ll see pictures when she’s older, and she’ll be?—”
“No,” I said in an abrupt attempt to shut this all down. “I will decide on something else.”
I got up and out of bed, my mood taking a bizarre turn. Something was setting me off, but I couldn’t place it. All I knew was that I was feeling pressured to do something I didn’t want to do, and somehow, I was to blame for not going along with it.
I knew Darcy wasn’t trying to be bitchy about any of this, but I didn’t like her continual insistence to force an idea on me that I disagreed with.
“Where are you going?” Darcy asked with a laugh.
“Taking a shower,” I said dismissively.
Once in the shower, I turned on the hot water, which was piping hot thanks to the new electric water heater I’d had installed. I leaned my head forward and let the rainfall showerhead clear my mind.
This was how my mood would shift whenever Melissa would order me around and treat me like I were a fucking idiot when she disagreed with the way I wanted to do things. I hated this fucking feeling. I hoped a hot shower would wash this shit off me, and I would settle down.
The more I thought of how Melissa used to make me feel, the more pissed off I became. Adding to my irritation was my goddamn appointment with Natalia this afternoon to see another fucking house that I probably wouldn’t like, much like the five hundred others I’d already seen and turned down.
“Are you okay?” Darcy questioned, brushing her teeth at the sink.
“Fine,” I said in a clipped tone, annoyed she’d followed me in here when all I wanted was some space. “Listen, I’m sorry. I think I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”
I felt like such a dick for putting her on the receiving end of my bullshit.
“It’s okay,” she said in a muffled tone while scrubbing her teeth. She spit the foamy toothpaste in the sink, rinsed her mouth, and grabbed a towel to dry it. “I was just trying to offer some ideas. I’ve made a note to myself that theme parks and zoos are places I never expect to go to with you.”
I was grateful I hadn’t upset her, but I did need some space. I cared too much for Darcy to hurt her, and I was terrified that a nasty mood like what’d crept over me would push her away. I was terrified I might do something to fuck up all this perfection and beauty I’d found, and as much as I was deadest against that happening, I also didn’t trust myself.
“I think I’ll go look at that house alone with Nat today,” I said. I was already dreading having to view another home, so my shitty mood would only be enhanced, and Darcy would have to deal with that, too.
“That’s cool,” Darcy said. “What about Charlotte? When does she get here?”
My anxiety seemed to spike when Darcy asked me the question. Fuck, what was wrong with me?
“Don’t worry over her,” I said, not knowing how to shut down Darcy’s concern about my daughter.
“I’m not worried about anything,” Darcy said, and now I could sense her frustration rising with my fucked-up mood.
“Thank you,” I said, just wanting the conversation over with before it escalated into anything further.
That afternoon, I was out with Natalia, viewing a home that was nice but still didn’t meet my expectations for where I saw myself if I had to live in California.
“You and Darcy could have some amazing nights out here in this infinity pool. This terrace and the views of downtown are the best we’ve seen,” she said.
I liked Natalia; the woman knew her shit when it came to real estate. I also enjoyed her candid personality and found it a bit humorous that a man like Spencer, who was as much of an aggressive dick in business as me, would be her perfect match. She was wild and set in her ways while being a stellar businesswoman who held the real estate world in her hands. I appreciated her finding these homes for me, but as talented as she was, I was surprised she still hadn’t found a house with everything I wanted.
“It’s all fine and good,” I said. “However, I’m not feeling this at all.”
“It’s a forty-million-dollar home that offers everything but a zip code in Martha’s Vineyard, Sebastian. I’m not sure what else would work at this point,” she said, understandably irritated with me.
“Perhaps that’s what is needed,” I said with a laugh, looking out at the skyline filled with smog, haze, and tall gray skyscrapers. I reached my hand out to attempt to paint a vision for her, “A large mural of the Atlantic Ocean, filled with fishing boats and sailboats to set the vibe I need.”
“You’re a pompous prick, you know that?” she said with her usual dry sarcasm. “You know very well that you’re not going to find what you want in Los Angeles, Beverly Hills, or any fucking hills that your rich ass wants to live in,” she said. “Why don’t we go toward the coast? There are amazing homes in Malibu, Laguna, Santa Monica, and even La Jolla if you’re willing to move as far south as San Diego.”
“The whole point of considering a home in this location was to allow Darcy to come home to me every night instead of once every couple of weekends or so like she’s been doing with her parents.”
“Are you planning on marriage?” Nat used the opportunity to pry.
“No. Not yet, anyway, but I would love her to live with me and my daughter,” I answered. “She and I both decided that moving in together would work while we continue to explore the idea of wanting to deepen the?—”
“Hold the hell on,” Nat interrupted me, and it was not a great day for that move if I was being honest. “ Explore the idea of wanting to deepen your relationship?”
“Yes, people do that all the time. I’m not jumping straight into marriage, and neither is Darcy. She agrees with everything I’m telling you.”
“I understand that,” Nat said, “but you can’t explore shit if you’re doing everything for Darcy and not considering yourself. That’s resentment waiting to happen on your end, pal.”
“I don’t feel that way. I enjoy spoiling that woman. It makes me very happy.”
“Spoiling your lover with trinkets, roses, and gifts is one thing,” she said. “It’s not something you have to live in. You must consider yourself.”
“Well, I am.”
“How? You just told me you’re house hunting in Los Angeles to offer Darcy an easy commute from her job.”
“Yes, and if it were up to me, she’d quit and work for a publication she loved. Or not work at all, I don’t give a shit. But she wants this, and I want her to be happy.”
“And Darcy wants to live in Los Angeles?” Nat questioned, crossing her arms.
“As I said, it’s closer to her job, and I’ll see her more often.”
“Until you’re overseas, working there for months on end,” Nat said, suddenly seeming like a parent coaching my decisions about managing a relationship.
“What are you trying to say? Darcy and I have agreed that this is the best place for where we are in our relationship right now.”
“I’m saying that you’re shopping a forty-million-dollar price range for a home in a city that you really don’t want to live in. Darcy may or may not want to live here also. You two need to discuss where you both will be happiest. You’re doing this to accommodate a job that I know Darcy is on the brink of quitting. Let’s say she quits and then gets a job in Napa Valley or perhaps San Diego. If that happens, you are both stuck here. You will resent her and the home you spent a fortune on because you chose it to accommodate that job she hated, and then you’ll start living on the road and away from home because the location pisses you off.”
“Makes sense,” I said, feeling more weight and confusion on my shoulders now, “but I can’t just force her to live in Martha’s Vineyard, can I?”
“Don’t be an asshole,” she said, rolling her eyes at my only other perceived option.
I grinned, “Well, unless you have any other ideas?”
“I do. It’s called Darcy and you need to talk about this more. Settle on where you both want to live and learn a crucial lesson while exploring each other in this relationship.”
“And that is?”
“Compromise and communication,” she said with a smile. “Once you two love birds figure that out, you won’t be wasting my precious time.” She put her hand on her hip and pointed her finger at me teasingly, “You know, I should be furious with you, goddammit. You nearly made me question my ability to find my client the perfect property, which has never happened. Now, I know the only reason you haven’t fallen in love with any of the outrageously impeccable properties I’ve shown you is that you don’t even know if you want to be here. So, like I said, communicate. When you’re ready and confident, finding the perfect place won’t take a minute.”
How funny those two words, compromise and communication, were nowhere in my vocabulary when I was married to Melissa, and they were definitely not values I was raised to exercise. I was in altogether foreign territory, which was highly uncomfortable.
My nerves tightened, not knowing how to deal with any of this. Everything just felt like more work than it should’ve been, and the thought of walking away from yet another home that didn’t impress me and flying back to Napa Valley to see my daughter for the first time in months was very daunting.
I was overwhelmed, and my frustration was rising to the point that I hoped Darcy wouldn’t be there. That way, I wouldn’t get stuck detailing why I didn’t like this home either, or even worse, letting her know I wasn’t sure if I could be happy living out here.