A Friendly Engagement (29 page)

Devi.

She’d been right about his family. He could and would turn things around in regards to his mother and his brothers. It was up to him to make the first step in building a relationship with them.

Yet when he’d needed Devi most, she wasn’t there for him. But that didn’t stop him from missing the hell out of her. He ground his teeth. She’d made her choice. And it wasn’t him. The idea that she didn’t care for him as much as he’d thought still tore at his heart, zapping him of strength and energy.

He sucked in a breath of air in an effort to gain strength. Over time he’d heal, recover, and move on. He had no choice.

Although he’d heard her messages, he couldn’t bring himself to call her back. Just the sound of her voice brought him to his knees and shredded his heart further. He didn’t want to hear her excuses on behalf of her father. All it would do was anger him further.

Omar clenched his fists and then thrust his hands through his hair. He might not like Bartow, but he was glad that Devi had found her father. If only it hadn’t been the main factor keeping him and Devi apart. There was no way he could be involved with a woman whose father almost ruined his family.

Devi had been right all those weeks ago when she’d said, “Sometimes the lesson to be learned is you can’t win ’em all.” He’d definitely lost out with Devi.

He reminded himself of that several times a day, but that didn’t stop the sounds of her laughter, or her soft moan, her soothing touch, or the feel of her mouth brushing against his from invading his senses when he was on the verge of sleep.

You’ll get over her.
But would he?

A loud noise from the outer office had him sitting up straight. Everyone had left hours ago. He checked the clock on the wall across the room. It was well after eight in the evening.

What the hell?

He pushed himself up from his desk and walked into the hall, following the light to where it fell into the hallway from Devi’s office.

A burst of adrenaline shot through him, and he took longer steps. In Devi’s final message she’d mentioned coming by to clear out her office and leave her keys. Had she decided to do it when she thought nobody would be here?

He hated himself for wanting to see her, but couldn’t stop from rushing toward her office.

Omar stopped inside the door as Cass swung around with wide brown eyes.

She pressed her palm to her chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“What are you doing here?” His gaze swept the room, hoping Devi would be there. Somewhere. Anywhere. His lungs deflated as he let out a long sigh.

Cass lifted the box on the desk and shook it. “I’m cleaning out Devi’s personals. Don’t worry, I won’t take anything that’s not hers, and I’ll leave all her keys on the desk.”

“Where is she?”

She shrugged. “Not home. She’s coming back from her father’s tomorrow morning. I thought I’d get this done for her, so she didn’t have to see you.”

“You should’ve let her do it.” As the words left his mouth, he hated himself. Why would he want to torture either of them by prolonging their hurt? Cass had done the right thing.

She put her hands on her hips and gave him a frown. “Really? Would you want to risk running into someone who obviously didn’t want to see you? Who can’t even be bothered to pick up the phone when you call or, heaven forbid, return a call?”

“Does she know you’re here?” He had to know if Devi had sent Cass, or if she’d come on her own.

“Does it matter? You don’t deserve to be in her presence. You have no idea that you’ve given up the best damn thing that will ever happen to you. Men like you only get one chance with someone as extraordinary, wonderful, caring…” She let out a frustrated sigh and closed her eyes to catch her breath. “Never mind. I have no idea why I’m wasting my breath. You don’t even see it. You don’t even care.”

Her words hit him like a slap across the face in a snowstorm.

Omar nearly hated himself. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“Don’t tempt me. That was just a warm-up.”

Cass threw a few things from inside Devi’s desk into the box she’d brought with her and slammed the drawer before she glared at him. “I think I have it all.” She held up the box. “Do you want to check it before I go?”

“We’re good.” He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers.

She walked toward him and gave him a sideways snub as she passed. She stopped in the doorway and spun around. “You take the cake, Omar Esterly. I don’t think you even realize what the hell you gave up when you hurt my friend. She’s the best thing that ever happened to you. Probably the best thing that ever
will
happen to you. Enjoy your business, because you’ve failed at the chance of any personal success.”

He watched as Cass made her way to the elevators. She stepped into the car as the door slid open and turned toward him. She mouthed something at him he couldn’t make out, but he felt sure whatever it was hadn’t been pleasant.

The moment the door slid closed, the other elevator dinged.

What the hell? Now who?

William Bartow stepped off the elevator with a no-nonsense stride. The second his eyes met Omar’s, he moved toward him with determination filling every line of his face, especially in the stern set of his jaw.

Omar shook his head and sighed. Just what he didn’t need, another confrontation. “I don’t know why you’re here because we said all we needed when—”

William poked him in the chest, and Omar fisted his hands, using all his strength to keep from grabbing the older man by the collar and helping him back onto the elevator.

“You’re damn well going to listen to me, Omar. You’re as pig-headed as your father. He wouldn’t stop long enough to listen, let alone accept an apology, and you’re doing the same thing.”

“My father knew an apology doesn’t fix everything.”

“Well, this time my daughter is involved, and you’re going to hear what I have to say.”

Omar made a move to sidestep past him, but Bartow shoved him against the office door and pinned him there with his palms on Omar’s chest and his glare. “I’ll clue you in when the conversation is over.”

Omar brushed the older man’s hands from his chest and dragged in a breath. “Whatever. I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

“No excuses. I’m telling you the story from A to Z. Nothing will be left out. That way you can make an informed decision on your feelings for me—and for my daughter.”

“Whatever you have to say won’t change what happened, and—”

“But the fact that I issued a public recant should.” Bartow lifted his chin.

Omar’s curiosity had him pressing his mouth together in a thin line as he regarded the older man and the determined set of his jaw.

“Say your piece, if it’ll make you feel better, Bartow. Then get the hell out of here.”

“I made a huge mistake all those years ago. I trusted an old business acquaintance before I checked the facts.”

Omar rubbed his neck. “Go on.”

“Mike Jepson and I were friends and both clients of Esterly Financial. About the time I was really starting to make some serious money, Mike lost his shirt. He asked me to bail him out of a few business dealings gone sour, and in the process he told me that Esterly Financial—your dad in particular—not only made some bad investments but skimmed some of his earnings.”

“That’s bullshit…”

Bartow showed him his palms. “Let me finish before you go all hot-headed apeshit.”

Omar took a breath and jammed his hands back into his pockets and then nodded. He could feel the heat rising through him as his blood pressure rose.

“When I heard that, and then witnessed how Mike had lost most of his money, I feared my money would be next. I used the loophole in my contract with your father to sever our ties on the spot. I informed all the clients I knew who worked with your dad to follow suit, and several of them did. Unfortunately, as I said, I was finding some success, and I had a lot of attention from the media. I mentioned your dad, and you know the rest about that.” Bartow closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened his eyes, Omar could see the regret. He had to respect him for coming here and admitting he’d been wrong, but Omar wanted to hear him say the words. He wanted the apology his father never got.

“So what’s your point? Are you admitting you knew my father wasn’t to blame for this Jepson’s financial trouble?”

“The story doesn’t end there, and that’s the piece you’re missing. You can hate me if you want, but there’s no reason you should take any of this out on Devi.” Bartow’s look of determination returned full force.

Omar could see how much he cared for Devi. Whenever the man mentioned her name, his body language and tone became fiercely protective.

“Your dad confronted me with proof he hadn’t lost anyone’s money, made any bad investments, or done anything wrong. I found out that Mike Jepson had lied. He’d pulled his monies and investments from Esterly months before so that he could invest himself. His plan was to keep all his money for himself, not to have to give Esterly a percentage for investments. Jepson lost his shirt all right, but he did it to himself.”

Omar swallowed against the sand building in his throat. All of this was news to him. His mother must not have known, and his father must never have shared. If what Bartow was telling him were true…

“I confronted Jepson and let him know I knew your dad had told me the truth. By then the interview I’d given on television aired and several more hit in print. When I came to your dad’s office, we had a knock-down drag-out…” Bartow brushed shaky hands through his hair. “I apologized and begged him to take me back on as a client. That I could help him gain back some of the clients he’d lost because of me, and he practically threw me out of the office. He said he’d never be desperate enough to take me back on as a client—”

“That’s why you were surprised I wanted an invite to your meet and greet. You thought like father, like son.” Omar’s muscles tightened, and he drew back his head stiffly.

Bartow nodded, a shadow of a smile lifting his lips. “I couldn’t blame your dad, but I did try everything I could to right my wrong. I gave another interview to the press and recanted what I’d said. I explained the confusion, but it didn’t get as much attention as what I’d said earlier. But you know how that goes. A story is good when it’s bad, but a recant doesn’t garner the same attention.”

That, Omar knew as fact. But it still didn’t take away the hurt.

Bartow pulled out a folded sheet of paper and offered it to Omar. “This is a copy of the recant I took out an ad for in one of the papers.”

“You kept this?” Omar frowned.

Bartow shook his head. “I’m organized, but not that organized. I stopped by the library and scanned the archives. The librarian printed me off a copy so you could see.”

Omar opened the paper and skimmed over the words. “This doesn’t change the fact that even with your recant, my parents’ marriage failed.”

“I can’t and won’t take the blame for something between your parents. Your dad made the decision to consume himself in work, and your mom made her decision by not calling him out on the rug for it.” Bartow fixed his hands low on his hips.

To have it stated so bluntly shook Omar to the core. So easy. How come he hadn’t seen that before? His parents had made their own choices, and only they had the power to change them. When business had picked up, his father could have returned to normal hours. He could have reconnected with his family. And his mother. She could have had more of a backbone to stand up to her husband and do what was right for her kids.

Omar swallowed hard. “I appreciate you coming here and telling me all of this.”

He felt like an ass for not listening sooner. When Devi had begged him to.

“I came here with three purposes today. One, I wanted you to know the facts. Two, I wanted to offer you the contract—”

“You what?”

“I know that Esterly is the right firm for me, and that you are the right planner. I had already made that decision before I knew Devi was my daughter. I want to work with you, and I hope that we can get past all that’s happened…and that you and Devi can at least talk…”

Bartow’s words fogged over in Omar’s head. The surge of excitement he’d expected at being offered the contract didn’t happen. Instead, a sickening weight settled across his chest.

What the hell have you done, Esterly?

Bartow rambled on, and Omar tuned him back in as he brushed thoughts of Devi to the side. He needed to get Bartow out of here so he could think.

“Don’t give me your answer now. I know I’m throwing a lot on you. Just think about it.”

“And what was your final reason for coming here?” He had to know. Had Devi sent him? Or had he come on his own?

Bartow’s smile grew wide. “Three, I wanted you to hear me out in hopes you and Devi could finally talk. So, now that you’ve learned I’m not as bad of a person as you first believed, does that change things between you and my daughter?”

Chapter Nineteen

“It’s too late for Devi and me. Even if I did want to change things.” He’d treated her so badly. Giving her an ultimatum on what should’ve been a happy day for her—finding her father—and then refusing to hear her side of things because he’d chosen his father’s anger over her and what they had. He couldn’t ask her to give him a second chance? She’d never take him back after what he’d done. And who could blame her?
But then why had she called? Not once, but several times.
Had it been that important to her that he learned the truth about their fathers? And why?

Confusion clouded his head. For sure she hadn’t called to try to win him back. Would she do that? He should’ve picked up, or returned her messages…

She’ll never forgive you.

He wanted to melt to the floor. Omar rubbed his neck and squeezed. He hated himself. Like father, like son. He’d ruined a wonderful relationship with a woman he truly cared about.

Bartow sighed and grabbed Omar by the shoulders. “It’s never too late. Trust me. I speak from experience. Don’t end up like me, Omar. Don’t spend twenty-five years living in regret when you can fix this with a conversation.”