Chapter 7
BLOOD MONEY
Dean let himself into the house through the garage after he’d hit the button to shut the door. “Hi, Carly. Where is Jonah?”
“In bed watching TV. Though he might be sleeping by now.”
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “It wasn’t the plan.”
It never was but shit happened he couldn’t always control and this was just another example of it.
Someone sick, shifting staff, then waiting for it to quiet down enough for him to get home to his son.
“It never is and it’s never a problem,” Carly said.
For what he was paying her, he didn’t think she’d ever complain.
She’d told him more than once this was perfect for her.
Divorced, no kids, retired from her state job that she’d hated at age fifty-five and needed to do something else.
Having never had kids, he feared Carly might not be the best fit, but she’d proven him wrong. She’d watched and helped raise her nephews. Jonah took to Carly right away and it was all that mattered.
In a world where he’d spent his life always having to please someone else and few really caring about his thoughts and opinions, he wanted someone in his son’s life who did those things.
Would Jonah know it as a newborn? No, he wouldn’t, but Dean could change anything that needed to be done too. Over four years ago, he just needed something in place.
“I don’t know if I tell you enough how much I appreciate you.”
“You do,” Carly said. “But it’s always nice to hear. If you don’t need anything else, I’ll go snuggle into my bed.”
“I’m good.” He watched Carly go back through the garage door he’d entered his hall from, then walk through to her apartment door in the back.
He’d gotten that space built fairly quickly, but that happens when you throw enough cash around.
Before he showered and changed, he headed up the stairs to check on Jonah.
He turned the corner at the top of the stairs, walked through his son’s playroom loft that was neatly organized and picked up daily. He was positive Carly did more of it than Jonah.
The TV was off, which he expected at nine. He wasn’t always a fan of that, but it got everyone in a routine that he didn’t want to disrupt.
He walked closer, peered down at Jonah sleeping with his arms tightly wrapped around a stuffed giraffe. His large hand came out, hands that were steady and were supposed to be ones of a surgeon, but nothing he’d ever wanted in his life.
Nope, they were better served to be gentle this way in his mind as he brushed the hair back from Jonah’s forehead. The kid needed a cut and he’d take care of that in the morning before he left for work. No reason Carly had to do it all.
He was still Jonah’s father and he wanted to raise his child and not miss out on too many things.
Not like his parents did.
He couldn’t really blame them much. They were living the only life they knew how. The one he didn’t want a part of.
He shook his head remembering the look on his parents’ faces when he graduated from Columbia with his degree in Biology and then said, “I’m done with school.”
They’d thought he was kidding. They found out wrong.
And when he told his family what his plans were—to open a bar—all hell broke loose.
His grandfather, the patriarch of the family, almost needed someone to crack open his own chest after the news. A fight ensued and very few words had been spoken with his grandfather since.
He wasn’t going to be swayed. Not even when his grandfather said, “I’ll take your trust fund back. I trusted you to use it wisely for medical school.”
He was never so happy to toss a check back at his grandfather and say, “I don’t need your money. I’ve got my own.”
His grandfather never cashed that check, but Dean wasn’t about to touch that money either.
It was sitting in another investment he’d had set up.
Was he cashing in on that investment? Sure.
Was he going to touch that original amount for anything?
Fuck no. It was the old man’s blood money and he didn’t want any of it.
He should have gotten another draw at twenty-five, thirty, and a few months ago at thirty-five. Of course for all he knew the original D.T. Easton changed his will and cut Dean right out of it. He wouldn’t know because he wasn’t asking.
Thinking of his family was just souring his mood. He walked into his bathroom, stripping on the way, then dropping his clothes in the hamper that was overflowing. He’d have to deal with laundry tomorrow.
Carly dealt with Jonah’s so he didn’t have to even think of that. He’d never asked her, she just took it over.
He took a quick shower because he always felt like he had to wash the bar off of him.
It’s not that it was filthy; he kept a neat ship.
But it was germs and, though he wasn’t OCD by any means, he just had a thing about germs. Probably came from all his science classes and labs and watching shit grow.
Not that he ever told anyone about that neurosis of his. Most of his life was private. From employees, from patrons, from the women he spent time with. Friends…he really didn’t have many of them.
Yet somehow, he’d opened up to a stranger he’d seen twice in the bar.
Not really a stranger. He knew her name.
Molly Clarke.
And as confident as she appeared, there were parts of her that felt as if she were holding back. As if she just wanted to get away from everyone else too and somehow she ended up at his place talking to him.
Not that he could have hidden Jonah from Molly, or that it mattered, since all his employees knew.
They weren’t aware they were really his employees and he was the owner and not just the manager.
After his shower, he flipped the TV on and channel surfed. It was on all day playing sports all over the bar, so he wasn’t going to find anything now that he hadn’t seen already, but it was background noise more than anything when he went to the kitchen to get a snack.
When a commercial came on with a redhead selling body cream, he realized he was staring and thinking of Molly.
Why did he comment on her coming in again when he hadn’t with another woman before?
She probably wouldn’t return and he’d just have to move on. He was used to that in his life. Moving on from things he didn’t like, didn’t want to do, or didn’t think he could have.
Everything but Jonah.