26. Piper
twenty-six
piper
Might As Well Be A Different Fruit
“ W hat the hell is this?”
My stomach curdles and my heart rate spikes seeing the picture in front of me three days later. Oscar’s face is buried in my neck while Mayer is grabbing a handful of my ass as the three of us walk hand-in-hand into their apartment.
My dad—or should I say, the man I’m unfortunate enough to share DNA with—sneers at me from across our table at the coffee shop I’d specified the last time he texted.
He looks more haggard than I remember, his gut protruding so the bottom of his stomach peeks from under his stained shirt. The green in his eyes reminds me of the leaves of a diseased tree, trying but failing to hold on to some semblance of life. Some semblance of happiness.
His head tilts up arrogantly, as if he has anything to feel smug about. “This is why you’ll give me what I’m asking for.”
It’s crazy to think this man was once a professional hockey player with a loving wife and children behind him. Now he’s just a walking cautionary and bitter tale of what happens when you actively sabotage your own life.
I can’t help but compare him to my brother. And though I see physical glimpses of him in my dad, Rowan couldn’t be more different. With a strong sense of love and loyalty, determination both on and off the ice, and a personality capable of lighting up a sky, my brother is light years ahead of the man sitting in front of me, reeking of stale beer and shattered dreams.
Where Rowan took to Shayla’s son like his own flesh and blood, our dad discarded us from his life the way one would a pair of holey socks.
That is, until he jacked up his knee, ending his professional career, and the woman he left us for packed her bags, that he suddenly remembered he had children. By then, it was too late.
Rowan tried to maintain some sort of relationship with him, but after years of more disappointment, even he reached his limit. Me, on the other hand? I slammed the door on my dad’s deadbeat face the day he left. By then he’d given me years of anguish I’d likely need therapy for, anyway; why would I have wanted to prolong the trauma?
Even now, after years of proving to myself that I’m not the “brainless loser” or the “stupid shit” he often referred to me as when I was a kid, his callused words creep into my thoughts at the least expected times. Especially when I’m alone and his voice fills the void created by the silence.
As much as I pity his state, I’m all-too aware of who he is at his core—a man who’s always put himself first. A man who could give two shits about anyone or anything that wasn’t benefitting him directly.
I keep my expression muted, despite my face being a magnifying glass for my feelings. “What the hell are you even talking about, Anthony ?”
He points at me menacingly. “Watch your mouth, girl. Have some respect for the man who gave you life. I’m still your dad.”
I chuckle softly because laughing maniacally the way I want to would draw attention, especially since more people seem to be recognizing me as Dev’s fiancée. As it is, I had to sneak past Ralph and my security to get here.
“Oh, Anthony,” I say, poisonously sweet. “You believe donating your sperm earns you respect? You’re about as much a father to me as a rat snake who eats its own hatchling.”
His face contorts with anger, but before he can spit vitriol, I press on, “You call yourself my dad? Since when? Definitely not since you abandoned us?—”
“I fucking came back, didn’t I?” His face turns bright red, like he’s about to explode. “But you and your mom were always brainless, ungrateful bitches.”
My cool facade falters as my hands fist inside my lap. “Say one more thing about my mother and I walk out of here,” I seethe. “She’s a million times the parent you ever were.”
My father waves a dismissive hand.
“A real father wouldn’t have left in the first place,” I continue. “He would have guided us throughout our lives, not left us when he found something better. And a real father sure as hell wouldn’t cut down his daughter at every corner?—”
Anthony throws back his head, laughing disdainfully. The faint stench of his breath sours the scent of coffee that was previously lingering there.
“Cut you down?” he repeats. “Sweetheart, you were nothing . You had no talent, no interests, and no fucking achievements to speak of. What would I have had to cut down when there was nothing there to work with?!”
I came here determined to not let his words affect me, to steel myself to his barbs. I was going to shut him down and put an end to his constant texting. Yet here I am, fighting back those same tears I’ve held behind my lids since I was a kid.
I have no reason to remind him that I did have other interests—hair, beauty, learning to run a business—but he never cared enough to know them. I also won’t remind him that, despite being a “brainless twit”, I graduated at the top five percent of my high school class.
My throat burns but my resolve strengthens. Because my sorry excuse for a father will not see me break.
“Want to know what I’ve been most grateful for these past few years, Dad .” I spit the word like it burns my tongue. “The blissful peace since you walked out.”
My lips flatten. “I’ll make it crystal clear for you. The last thirteen years without your toxic presence have been a blessing, and I’d like to keep it that way. So, whatever it is that you’re here to demand—respect, a relationship, or money—you won’t be getting it from me.”
I shove my chair back, getting up and smoothing a hand down my flared leggings in forced calm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a happy fatherless life to get back to?—”
His hand tightens around my wrist in a death grip, eyes glinting with malice. “Walk out now and I’ll make sure your billionaire fiancé and the world sees this.” He taps the photo on the table. “Pretty sure the news said you two have been together for a year, didn’t it? But this timestamp paints a different picture.”
My breath falters when I see the date at the bottom of the picture. Two months ago. “Where did you get that?”
He gasps mockingly. “Were you cheating on the richest man in the world, Peppercorn?” he tsks, as if admonishing me. “I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
My upper lip curls. “Are you referring to yourself? Because this apple is so far from that tree, it might as well be a different fruit.” I lean in, voice low and deadly calm. “I’m nothing like you. How long have you been following me?”
He shrugs innocently. “I was just trying to get back in touch with my little girl. Figured I’d see what you were up to. I never thought you’d amount to anything, so imagine my surprise when I found out you owned a thriving salon. But then I did some digging and found out Rowan paid for your business loans?—”
“I’ve paid him back every cent,” I retort, not that I need to justify anything to him. “Unlike you, my brother, Mom, and I take care of each other.”
His eyes flick to my chest. “I’m sure you paid him back. What, with all the extra income you were making with your side hustle as a slut.” He scoots the photo closer to me. “Or was it after you got into bed with a billionaire?”
My entire body heats up. I’m not a proponent of hitting one’s parent, but at this point . . .
“You disgust me, Anthony.”
“Hey.” He raises his hands like he’s asking for a truce. “Don’t let me stop you! You gotta do what you gotta do to survive in the world sometimes, you know? It’s exactly why I’m here, actually.”
My vision blurs and my stomach drops. “What do you want?”
“Nothing you can’t give me. I’m in a bit of a bind with my business partner. You see, I might have used some of the funds from our business account to?—”
“Spare me the details,” I say, cutting him off. I have no interest in knowing more. “Get to the point.”
He sighs as if he’s exasperated with me, the fucking asshole.
“I need sixty grand.”
“ Sixty grand?! ” I shriek, making a couple of heads in the coffee shop turn toward us. I should sit back down, but I just can’t get myself to. “Are you out of your mind?”
“I went to Rowan as well, but . . .” his eyes find the fucking photo again, “I didn’t have as much leverage in convincing him. Figured you would be the easiest bet. And given the very successful business you run, I had a feeling you’d have it.”
“You’re pathetic and a waste of space, but I’m sure you already know that, coming here asking me for money.”
“I’m a survivor ,” he says plainly. “And as for you giving me money, who do you think paid for everything all those years while I was with your mother? You owe me a hell of a lot more than sixty grand, Peppercorn.”
“Don’t fucking call me that,” I hiss, feeling a vein throb in my temple.
Silence stretches between us for a few seconds while my heart races.
If Anthony leaks this picture, not only would it bring on a media storm weeks before the wedding, but it could get back to Dev’s parents. While Dev wouldn’t care—given we didn’t even know each other at the time—explaining this to his parents would be another thing.
What would they think of me?
His dad already thinks I’m not good enough for his son, but it’s his mom’s opinion that worries me most. This would shatter her heart and ruin everything Dev has wanted to do for her until now.
Shit!
Maybe I should tell Dev and let his team get ahead of this. But he’s been worried about an issue at work the past two days—some hardware problem with their driverless cars.
That’s not to say I haven’t seen him.
We’ve slept together every night, with me showing up to his room as promised.
Last night, after he’d given me multiple orgasms to shatter all orgasms prior to them, I got down on my knees for him. When I took him to the back of my throat, he swayed like a tree during a hurricane, chanting my name with my hair in his fist while he came.
But as usual, I made sure not to stay over.
And each time after I’ve slipped back into my room, I’ve heard him head into his office to work until God knows when.
So, with everything on his plate, including his worry about his mother, the last thing he needs is my little issue. I can deal with my deadbeat dad on my own.
“Give me the money and I’ll be out of your hair for good,” Anthony says after taking a sip of his coffee and bringing me out of my thoughts.
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”
“I guess you don’t, but you don’t have another choice.” He must see my thoughts flicking across my face because he adds, “Oh, and I wouldn’t tell your fiancé or your brother about this, if I were you. Things might get nastier if I really did have to hand this over to my contact at ESPN. He’d find the right people to share it with. And honestly, no one benefits from that, not even me.”
He rises from his seat, towering over me, thinking he’s intimidating me, but I almost laugh at how small he looks. How fucking pathetic.
“I just need the money and you won’t see me again, Peppercorn. God’s honest truth.”
I grin at the picture Shayla just sent to me of Kai and Kiara. My nephew hugs his baby sister like she’s precious cargo, both wearing Rowan’s team jerseys.
I’m just about to type her a message when she calls me.
“Hey!” I say, catching my wide smile in the salon mirror.
“Hey!” she greets me. “Hope I caught you at a good time. Rowan’s here, too. ”
“Hey Pepper,” my brother’s deep voice resounds through her speaker, “you busy?”
I close my salon door. I have twenty minutes before my next client.
“Nope, you caught me at the right time. What’s going on?” I don’t let him answer, remembering I forgot to message him after his game yesterday. “Oh! Congratulations on the win yesterday!”
“Thanks!” His voice brims with pride. “It was our last preseason game. You watched it?”
I actually watched it with Dev, but I don’t mention that. Instead, I huff, feigning offense. “Um, as if I’d miss it! Solid D in that last round, baby bro.”
“When will you drop the ‘baby bro’? I’m only a year younger.”
“Never,” I reply easily. “Now, speaking of babies, how is my niece? Tell her to stop growing so fast! Every time I see her, she’s so much bigger.”
“She’s a handful, too,” Shay adds. “Just like her dad.”
“She’s got personality and charisma like her dad, too,” my brother retorts, and I don’t have to see Shay to know she’s rolling her eyes. “She also likes putting your boobs in her mouth like her dad.”
“Ew,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “Is this why you guys called me? To make me throw up my breakfast?”
“Hey, I didn’t say anything!” Shay giggles. “Leave it to your brother to provide unnecessary and inappropriate details. Anyway, we were calling to check in. Do you need any help with the wedding? I know we’re miles away, but if we can help with anything?—”
I wave my hand in the air. “I’m okay, actually. The wedding will be really private with our closest family and friends, and the planning has been relatively easy. The venue, flowers, and caterers are all set. I just need my two dresses, we need to book a band for the music, and Dev and I need to do a cake tasting.”
My mind buzzes as an idea forms. I was planning on doing the dress fitting with Sarina and Nisha, but it might be fun if I expanded the group a bit.
“Actually, I know it’s short notice, but would you want to come for the dress fitting next Saturday? We can grab food and drinks afterward.” Before she can answer, I add, “I’ll make sure to pick a place that serves farm to table.”
My sister-in-law is the biggest health nut I know. And though she’s laxed her stringent green smoothie diet since she met Rowan, she’s still very particular about what she eats. It’s not a bad thing, but it takes some planning when we’re all getting together.
“That sounds fun! Are you sure I won’t be intruding?” Shay asks.
“Pfft! I would love to have all my besties there! I’ll even invite Jeena and Mom. We can make it a whole girls’ thing!”
Jeena is one of Shay’s best friends and probably one of the most entertaining people I’ve ever met. We met a couple of years ago and immediately clicked. In fact, she and her husband will be coming to the wedding.
“I suppose I could come for a night. Kai is pretty independent, but I don’t want to be away from Kiara for too long,” she muses on the phone. I get the feeling she’s thinking aloud. “She’s still so young.”
“Baby, I’ve got both of them,” Rowan reassures her. “I don’t fly out until Sunday evening. Plus, you’ve got your best friends, Dylan, Liv, and Delia, here. I’m sure they’ll all be willing to help if I need anything.”
“That’s true. I’ll make sure to have bottles of breast milk ready for her.”
“And I’ll make sure to assist you with expressing those if you need,” Rowan adds, his voice low and . . . ew, gross !
“K, throwing up now,” I say, almost gagging.
“Okay, I’m in!” Shay says cheerfully. “Can’t wait to see you!”
“Me, too!”
“Hey, so I forgot to tell you,” Rowan says, right as I’m about to hang up. “Dad reached out to me a couple of months ago . . .”
“Oh,” I respond, feeling that same vein throb in my temple. It hasn’t stopped since this morning when I saw the asshole. “What did he need?”
“Who the fuck knows? He asked me to meet him. Said he needed something, but I said no and that I had no reason to see him. Surprisingly, he never texted again. But one of my buddies living near San Francisco said he swears he saw him there—Dad’s still recognizable to hardcore hockey fans. Have you heard from him?”
My heart hammers right when I hear a knock on my door, likely Joshua bringing in my next client.
I’m not getting Rowan involved in this. Plus, I’ve already given Anthony the money he demanded. It is what it is at this point and not something I want to bring others into.
“Nope. Our sperm donor knows his and my relationship is long over.”