Sebastian
How dare she? Who did she think she was to tell me how to be a parent?
And then she had the gall to offer a volunteer position to my child without consulting me?
This was why I always stayed away from Aria Kealoha.
Other men might be deceived by her beauty, attracted enough to get close.
But I knew better. She had a vicious mouth filled with venomous words.
What infuriated me the most wasn’t just her words.
And it wasn’t just that her family was a major competitor in the hotel business.
It was the way her innocent blue eyes transformed into something diabolical.
Everyone thought she was just a pleasant, cheerful person.
They didn’t know Aria the way I knew her.
Ethan Sullivan had been kind enough to open my eyes to her controlling ways. I’d been suspicious, yes. But when he came to me that night, telling me all about how she’d forced him into all those charity events and he was close to being bankrupt, I made up my mind.
And what did Aria do with that information?
She tried to humiliate me. Why else would she have tried to kiss the resident nerd of the school?
I laughed, of course, because she clearly thought I was stupid.
That was the true start of our rivalry, and over the years, I grew to hate her. Everything else came from there.
My gaze drifted to my daughter, who sat on the opposite side of the back seat, her body angled toward the window. The business card was still in her hands, her fingers tracing the edges like she was memorizing the shape of it. She hadn't looked at me since we'd left Warren's office.
It’d been a while since I saw Evie light up like that. And I’d been tempted to agree to Aria’s proposal, but that would be admitting that she was right. And no, Kealoha wasn’t right about anything.
But that didn’t matter now. Evie was hurt. I should say something. Ask how she was feeling. She must be hurt, and not just physically, emotionally, too. I wanted to help her, but it felt like we were worlds apart, and I wasn’t quite sure how to reach her.
"Evie."
She didn't turn.
"Are you hungry? We could stop somewhere. Get something to eat."
"I'm fine."
Right. She was mad at me because of Aria. I resisted the urge to scoff. She’d spent what? Two hours with my daughter? And she’s already managed to drive a wedge between us. Yes, this was all her fault. If she wasn’t involved, Evie would have at least looked at me.
I tried again. "Does your head hurt? We should probably ice it when we get home."
"The nurse already gave me ice."
"Right. Of course." I didn’t want to push. I was afraid that I’d push her farther away from me. You could just let her work for Aria, a voice said. But I didn’t want to cave, not so easily at least. The ball was in my court, not hers.
I glanced at Evie again. Did my ego really matter when this was something my daughter clearly really wanted? Couldn’t I just put it all aside for her? I squeezed my eyes shut. Bloody hell. I was going to lose this war.
"The foundation…" I began. "Miss Kealoha's organization. We should discuss what kind of commitment…"
"I'm going. It’s what I want to do.” She was still staring out the window as she spoke to me.
"It’s not that simple. There are logistics to consider. Your summer schedule, your other activities…"
"I don't have other activities." She finally turned to look at me. I immediately wished she hadn’t.
The accusation in her eyes was clear. She blamed me for everything.
"I never have other activities. I have dance and violin lessons that you signed me up for. I’m not even good at those. This is something I want to do."
My eyes widened for a second. Did she not enjoy those classes? I’d enjoyed my piano classes. I thought she would appreciate it just as much as I did.
"I'm not trying to stop you. I just want to make sure it's appropriate. That it's safe."
"Miss Kealoha is safe." Evie turned back to the window. "She's the only person today who actually helped me."
I opened my mouth. I closed it. What could I say? She was right. Aria was right, but I’d never say that out loud.
The car turned onto our street. We pulled into the private drive.
The engine cut off. Evie had her door open before Stuart could come around.
She was out and up the front steps in seconds, the front door swinging shut behind her.
I heard her footsteps on the stairs inside as she made what I believed was a beeline for her room.
I sat in the car for a long moment, staring at the closed door.
Stuart appeared at my window, his face carefully neutral. "Will there be anything else, Mr. Dubois?"
"No. Thank you."
I made myself move. My legs walked the same path Evie had, only slower. I kept replaying the entire interaction in my head, wondering what I would have done or said differently that would’ve changed Evie’s reaction.
I couldn’t think of anything.
The foyer was cool and dim after the heat outside. I glanced up at the chandelier that had hung in this same spot for eighty years as if it had the answers for me. When nothing changed, I glanced at the grandfather clock ticking in the corner, the same rhythm it had kept since I was a boy. Nothing.
Evie's footsteps had already faded. Somewhere above me, a door slammed shut. I stood in silence, listening to the clock tick.
I should go up and knock on her door, have the conversation that clearly needed to happen.
Reinforce the fact that we didn’t slam doors in this household.
And maybe if possible, Evie would finally tell me what really happened.
I knew better than to believe her story about it just being an accident.
Kids these days seem to forget that we also went to middle school once.
I needed her to tell me the truth so I could punish the girl responsible.
But my feet wouldn't move. I turned toward the study instead.
The room was at the back of the house, overlooking the small garden that my mother had designed and Caroline had never touched. Funny that I never thought she wasn’t the nurturing type, right? Maybe I wanted so badly for our marriage to work.
Did we love each other? Yes, in our own way.
Caroline loved me for what I represented.
Stability and safety. And I loved Caroline because…
I let out a sigh as I rounded the corner.
I had no idea why or if I ever loved her.
I enjoyed her company, sure. I liked the fact that she trusted me, that I was a source of confidence for her.
Maybe I just liked that she needed me in a different way from my family. She hadn’t just needed me to fix messes, she’d needed me to be around.
I strolled into the study and crossed to the bar cart in the corner. I poured two fingers of whiskey into a glass. I watched the amber liquid catch the light. Took a long swallow. The burn helped. Gave me something to focus on other than the disaster of the afternoon.
I moved to the window. I looked out at the garden without seeing it.
Aria Kealoha.
The name kept circling back, like a song stuck on repeat. I hadn’t thought about her in a while. Sure, I’d seen her name on the news. If it wasn’t one charity event, then it was something about her parents conquering the business world.
Her father was a shark, I’d give him that. A man I actually envied. He’d purchased buildings right under my nose, made decisions I’d hesitated to take that always ended up paying off for him. He wasn’t afraid of taking a risk. Meanwhile, I always hesitated, cross-checked every little detail.
I took another sip of whiskey. Like father, like daughter. I guess that was one thing that irked me about her. I couldn’t understand how someone could go through life without an actual plan. She seemed to always jump into things headfirst without proper investigation.
I didn’t want Evie around that. I didn’t want her to think that was normal.
The study door swung open behind me.
"Brother!" Xavier's voice preceded him into the room. "Just the man I was looking for."
Great. Another problem that needed solving. I didn't turn from the window. "How did you get in?"
"Mathilde let me in. She loves me." I heard his footsteps cross the hardwood, and then Xavier appeared at my side, grinning. "Unlike some people."
I turned to look at him. He was dressed for a night out as he always was. His linen shirt was unbuttoned one button too far, his brown hair artfully disheveled in a way that probably took twenty minutes to achieve. I knew all about his hair stylists and personal shoppers and… need I go on?
Xavier helped himself to the bar cart, pouring a generous measure of the whiskey I'd been drinking. "You look like you’re in a bad mood. What happened?"
"Nothing."
"Convincing." He took a sip, made an appreciative sound. "You’re having the good stuff. Must be serious."
"What do you want, Xavier?"
"Can't a man visit his beloved brother without wanting something?"
I just looked at him.
Xavier laughed. "Fine. The Hendersons are throwing a party tonight. You remember Phillip Henderson? His wife is out of town, and he's celebrating."
Typical. "Celebrating what?"
"His wife being out of town." Xavier grinned. "Come on. It'll be fun. When's the last time you did something fun?"
I turned back to the window. "I'm busy."
"You're always busy. Don’t you get tired of being so stuck up?" He moved closer, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Come on, Seb. Live a little. You're thirty-four, not sixty-four. There'll be beautiful women, expensive champagne, terrible decisions waiting to be made…"
"Like the terrible decision that cost eighty thousand dollars?"
Xavier's hand dropped from my shoulder. His green eyes deflated for a second. He was embarrassed. Interesting. If he felt that way, then why wouldn’t he just clean up his act?
As quickly as the expression came, it was gone, and his easy smile returned. "Mother told you."
"Mother always tells me."
"It was a misunderstanding. I had a run of bad luck…"
"You always have a run of bad luck. That's the third time this year."
"Who's counting?" Xavier moved to the leather armchair near the fireplace, dropping into it with an exaggerated flair. "Anyway, that's handled. Water under the bridge. Tonight is about fresh starts and new opportunities."
I watched him sprawl in the chair that had been my father's favorite, one leg hooked over the armrest, whiskey glass dangling from careless fingers. He looked so much like our father. The same dark brown hair, the same strong jaw, the same easy charm that could fill a room.
Our father had loved him unconditionally. While for me, it was conditional on the fact that I behaved and brought in good numbers. Never just as I was.
"I'm not going to the party," I said.
Xavier shrugged. "Your loss. I'll tell Phillip you send your regards."
The study door opened again. Isabelle swept in wearing a cream silk blouse and wide-legged trousers, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. Her gray eyes found mine.
"I thought I heard voices." She crossed to the bar cart and poured herself a glass of sparkling water from the crystal pitcher. "Xavier, why are you here?"
"Charming as always, sister dear."
"I'm serious. You only come here when you want something." She turned to me, one eyebrow raised. "What does he want?"
"He wants me to go to a party."
"God, no. Don't do that to yourself." Isabelle perched on the arm of the sofa, crossing her ankles. "The Henderson thing? I heard about it. Phillip's going through some kind of crisis. Bought a sports car last week. It was red."
Xavier pointed at her with his glass. "You should come instead. If Sebastian insists on being boring."
"I just got back from Milan. I'm exhausted." She took a sip of her water, eyeing me over the rim of her glass. "Besides, someone needs to have dinner with my favorite niece. Where is Evie?"
I hesitated. Just a fraction of a second, but Isabelle caught it. She always caught everything.
"Sebastian. Where is Evie?"
I downed the last of my whiskey and filled the glass again. "Upstairs."
"And?"
I turned back to the window. The garden was falling into shadow, the late afternoon light fading toward evening. "There was an incident at school today."
"What kind of incident?"
"I don't know.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Evie won’t tell me what happened."
Silence. I could feel Isabelle's gaze on my back, but I had no idea what she was thinking. Xavier, I could read like a book. Isabelle was a different story entirely.
"Is she okay?"
I let out a breath. "She's fine. She has a small cut on her forehead, but it’s nothing serious."
"Then why are you drinking alone in the dark and not back at work? You shouldn’t even be here."
"It's complicated," I said and turned to face her. That was the easy version.
Xavier stood, draining the last of his whiskey. "Well, this sounds like family drama I want no part of. I'll leave you to it." He set the glass on the cart with a clink. "Last chance, Seb. Beautiful women. Expensive champagne. A drama-free night."
"Goodbye, Xavier."
He shrugged, already moving toward the door. "Your loss. Isabelle, always a pleasure."
She rolled her eyes. "Go make bad decisions somewhere else."
Xavier laughed and disappeared into the hallway. A moment later, the front door opened and closed.
The study fell quiet.
Isabelle was still watching me. She and I had a different relationship from myself and Xavier. Isabelle had a certain type of perception that even my mother didn’t have. You didn’t have to say anything. From the feel of the room, she could tell if something was wrong.
"Sebastian." She didn’t move from the chair. "What happened?"
"I told you, I don’t know."
Isabelle just stared at me. I couldn’t help but wonder what she saw. A stubborn man? An exhausted man? Or perhaps, a man who had no idea how to reach his daughter?
Isabelle set down her water glass on the vintage stool in front of her. She stood and smoothed her slacks. "I'm going to check on her."
Relief flooded through me. I’d wanted her to, but I didn’t want to ask for fear of seeming desperate or incapable of taking care of my own child. If anyone could reach her, it was Isabelle. Evie loved her aunt dearly. She told her things she would never say to me in this lifetime or the next.
I couldn’t complain. I was glad Evie had someone she could trust.
“Thank you.”
Isabelled nodded and left the room. I heard her footsteps up the stairs, then I heard her knock, followed by the sound of Evie’s door opening. Then nothing.
What I would give to be a fly in that room.
I stood alone in the study, surrounded by books I'd never read and the ghost of my father's expectations.
I poured another whiskey.
I wanted Evie to be happy, even if that meant agreeing to Aria’s proposition. So, I would put my ego aside and let my daughter work for Aria Kealoha because that was what she wanted.
I would put what I wanted aside, whatever that was.