Destination Connelly (31 page)

C
onn

T
o say
that the tension at our quiet table could be cut with any type of knife, dull or sharp, would be an understatement. Alan will hardly take his eyes from Nora and Nora will barely acknowledge his existence. It’s starting to make me wonder what the fuck is going on here. Whatever it is, I don’t like it.

I’m reminded of my conversation with Gray on the dock a couple months back.

“Did he like Nora?”

“Who?” I ask, thoughts still clouded by yesterday’s mistakes.

“Alan.”

Alan. Yes. I’m pretty damn sure he was in love with her, too. “Who wouldn’t like Nora? She was a dick magnet.”

“And you trusted the friend who’s been jealous of you your entire life not to say anything to a girl he also liked? Who you won over him?”

“So, Alan, how’s Lydia?” His fucking
wife
.

Dragging his gaze away from my Nora, my friend of twenty-five years looks at me. “She’s good, man. Spends her days taking tennis lessons and getting spa treatments. Just what every wife of a CEO should be doing.”

“Wow, Alan,” Nora’s razor-sharp voice cuts in. “I didn’t take you for such a misogynist. You’ll fit right in at Kinnick Investments.”

“Nora,” I chastise, unable to believe how she’s acting.

I think I may hear her apologize under her breath, but can’t be sure.
What the fuck is going on?

Alan just laughs, clearly oblivious to her ire. “Temper still matches her hair, I see,” he jokes, but nobody laughs. This little reunion is not going at all like I’d planned. I expected a relaxing night of moseying down memory lane, but now I wish I hadn’t agreed to this meeting. All I want to do is get Nora back to my place so I can spend a couple hours enjoying how right she feels underneath me before we get Hazel.

I redirect our conversation back to business so I can get this over with. “You interested in this challenge, Alan?”

“Hell, yes. It’s a great opportunity. Alred Kinnick is an investment God. This would be a dream job.”

“No issues relocating?”

“Not in the least. The wife has some family in Louisville, so this would be closer for her. And no kids to worry about. Yet.” He winks.

Nora remains unusually quiet as we spend the next hour discussing the position, the job requirements, and the challenges of working for Alred Kinnick. No matter how brilliant he is, the fact remains Alred’s an epically fucked-up bastard and working for him would not be an easy feat, even for someone who appears to worship him.

We pass on dessert but take coffee when the conversation turns more personal. And uncomfortable.

“Do you remember that epic birthday party I threw you after graduation, Conn?”

Alan pointedly eyes me with something I can only decipher as hostility. He’s deliberately throwing me under the bus in front of Nora.

Alan and I have stayed in touch over the years, often catching up when we’re both back home over the holidays or whenever he happens to be in town or I’m on the East Coast. But as with everyone else, life gets busy and we don’t talk as often as we used to.

When we spoke earlier today, though, we spent a few minutes catching up on events over the past year. I brought him up to speed on my brothers, my nephews, and my mom’s new man. I told him about my recent acquisition of SER and reuniting with Nora. I left out the part about our daughter because I didn’t feel it necessary to air our dirty laundry to the world, but I got the impression from him even through the phone that he was surprised. And envious, even though he’s married to a very beautiful, very young, twenty-three-year-old sexpot.

“Excuse me,” Nora says, her voice tight. Standing, she throws her napkin down before heading in the direction of the ladies’ room.

“What the fuck are you doing, Johns?” I demand, reverting to my old high school nickname for my best friend. I glare at him, simmering. I hate how my cool veneer is cracking, but fuck, he’s pissing me off. That was an unnecessarily intentional low blow.

“What? Just wanted to talk about old times. Don’t be so goddamned touchy, Colloway.”

My eyes slide in the direction Nora just took, then back to Alan. I study him quietly trying to piece together what he’s conveying with his body language and cryptic, almost caustic words. The edges of this jumble are jagged but are starting to slowly smooth out. And I don’t like how they fucking sound clicking together.

“You knew she knew, yet you never said anything. Why?”

A hard sneer twists Alan’s lips. His eyes shine in victory, but I have no idea what he thinks he’s won.
I
have Nora. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” I’m getting pretty fucking tired of his games and rhymes. This is not the friend I once knew. Correction…
thought
I knew.

“Oh, this is almost too good,” he chuckles before taking a sip of his hot coffee.

“Stop talking in fucking circles and spit out whatever it is you want me to know.”

“Whose idea do you think the surprise was? Who do you think drove her to my house? Who do you think
comforted
her when she found her
boyfriend
all drunk and hopped up on Molly in bed fucking some whore?”

Nothing in that sentence made sense. Not. A. Thing. There’s so much I needed to dispute, but the only word I could latch on to was “comfort.”

The puzzle snaps in place with a deafening sound. The earth shudders below me as if a massive earthquake just ripped through the city. Or my world.

“I was devastated, and I reacted out of spite.”

Mother. Fucker.

Gray was right. Alan wanted everything I had. He always did. And when he didn’t get it, he set out to make sure I didn’t have it either.

My stomach churns with disgust and my blood boils with an anger so raw, so potent, so all-fucking-consuming, it takes me over completely.

Next thing I know Alan’s fleshy throat is between my fingers, his back plastered against the thick glass wall that separates him from life and certain death, should it give way. I vaguely feel a sting on my hands and arms, his nails ineffectively digging into me for purchase. Through the unadulterated hatred now clouding my vision and my common sense, I hear my name being called.

I squeeze harder.

“You fucking set me up,” I seethe, my spit flying in his face. “You got me drunk, fed me drugs, and sent some whore to fuck me so Nora would see the whole goddamned thing because you wanted her. Didn’t you, you sick fuck?”

He shakes his head, but his effort is weak. I see the life draining from him. I tighten my hold.

I. Want. Him. Dead.

“Then you took advantage of her. You fucking used her in your sick, twisted mindfuck of a game. All because of what? Because she loved
me
? Wanted
me
? You ruined me! You destroyed her! Do you have any fucking idea what you did?” I roar so loudly I swear I feel the floor shake.

It’s not the floor.

It’s me.

I faintly hear people yelling and screaming, but one word registers. Just one. The only word I think could bring me out of my murderous haze, keeping me from spending the next ten to twenty getting ass raped.

Hazel.

I immediately sense Nora. She’s crying. Pleading with me to let go. Telling me to think of Hazel and how she needs her father.

I drop Alan like a flaming hot sack of shit.

He’s already taken too much from me. I won’t let him take anything else.

The second I let him go, she’s in my arms, wrapping every single limb around me. She’s sobbing uncontrollably and squeezing me so hard she may leave marks. I welcome them. They will remind me of all we’ve lost, but more importantly, all we’ve found again.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry,” I choke out. So fucking sorry for so many things, the least of which was not recognizing a traitor in our midst. The person who knew me since the age of five and was supposed to be my friend worked against us, skillfully ripping us apart. My chest heaves as I work to get my blood pressure back under control.

I look to my left to see Miles, the restaurant manager and a good friend, nod once in understanding before snapping into motion, trying to rein in the current chaos.

My gaze sweeps down to the floor, landing on Alan’s prone form. He’s holding his throat, which is no doubt tender and will carry evidence of his betrayal for weeks to come. His eyes are filled with guilt. He’s not physically dead like I’d wanted, but he’s now dead to me.

The damaged boy I once knew apparently grew up into an even more damaged man, taking things away from Nora and me that can never be replaced. His jealousy and cunning ruined so many lives, perhaps even his. It’s painfully obvious to me that he’s still in love with Nora.

My thoughts fill with vengeance—of ruining his life, his career, his very own marriage—but the moment it lands, it disappears. He’s not worth the effort and karma is always kindest to people like him. He’ll get his due, just not by my hand. I have other, far more important things to worry about than getting my revenge. Besides, I think the fact that I’m holding the woman we both love in my arms is revenge enough.

I start to walk away, Nora still wrapped around me like a vine when I hear Alan rumble through what I hoped was a permanently damaged windpipe, “I didn’t…sleep with…her. I…swear. I just…let her…think that.”

At that, Nora cries even harder, burying her head in my neck. If he thinks his long-overdue admission makes it better, it doesn’t. In fact, it makes this entire fucked-up situation far, far worse. He let her believe a heinous lie for so many years. A lie that forever changed all of our lives.

As I look down into the face of my ex-best friend for the very last time, I see genuine remorse. I see honesty. I see his silent plea for forgiveness.

Too bad it’s eleven fucking years too late.

And I’m fresh the fuck out of forgiveness.

C
onn

“
I
was wondering
when you would show up,” Carl Steele says, eyes twinkling before he takes a long swallow of his Bud Light draw.

“You know, Carl, I’ve been on to you this whole time.” I watch him, taking a pull of my own beer.

Unbeknownst to Nora, I flew into Cincinnati for lunch with the former owner of SER, but I plan on being home in time for a date tonight with the Blackhawks and Red Wings. Hazel and I have front row tickets. She’s been strung tight for a week in anticipation. That girl can trash talk even better than my brothers, I think. Trouble is on the horizon with her, I can already tell. I’m not much of a gun carrier, but I think I need to invest in a shotgun and learn how to use it. There’s not much a boy finds sexier than a girl who can talk sports with him and match him stat for stat.

The penance of my past womanizing comes in the form of a beautiful, rambunctious almost eleven-year-old. I’m sure I’ll be blessed with about four more girls to round out years of atonement.

“This
whole
time, son? I’m not so sure about that.”

I admit it took me a while to put everything together, but it only took a few times of meeting with Carl before I noticed the subtle similarities between him and Nora. The way they both crinkled their noses as they silently formed an argument in their head. The way the shade of his eyes matched hers almost exactly. The fact both of their hearts are as wide and deep as the ocean. But the thing that gave Carl away was his unabashed pride in Nora.

There is no mistaking the love of a father for his daughter. I should know.

“When did you know?” I ask. Curiosity has gotten the better of me, but that’s not the real reason I’m here.

“When did I know you were Hazel’s father?”

I nod, a slight smile on my lips.

Across the wooden table, he pins me with a thoughtful gaze. I wonder what he sees. Does he see someone worthy of his daughter? Of his granddaughter? Or does he simply see a ruthless businessman who has a sordid, playboy past? I hope it’s the first two, but I fear it’s the latter. And if that’s the case, I know I’ve earned it. But for some reason, he still wanted me to be with Nora anyway, so that has to count for something.

“When your face showed up in
Forbes
a few years ago.”

I laugh and shake my head. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“I’m not.” He pauses, thinking over his next words carefully. “I remember you, you know. I knew you recognized me the first time we met about the acquisition. I could tell you couldn’t place me, but I’ve never forgotten the boy who made my ladybug’s heart run like a race car.”

I’m speechless.

Almost.

“So the whole sale was…”
A setup on his part to push Nora and me back together?
And here I thought I was holding the golden ticket. All along it was Carl.

“Yep. You played into my hands beautifully, Connelly. Sam Makey was always in my pocket, not yours,” he winks, a big-ass grin on his face.

“What about the gambling? The stock market shit?”

He shrugs. “What about it?”

“Was that all a farce, too?” That’s one of the reasons I knew Carl needed to sell SER. Another card in my hand, a tidbit I’d heard from…Sam Makey.
Fuck
.
Me.

“I’ve made some bad decisions for sure, but let’s just say I’ve made a couple of
decent
investments as well.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.” I’m stunned. Utterly. I was played by the savviest player I’ve ever come across and I was none the wiser.

“Nora’s always been a little stubborn, in case you didn’t already know that,” he tells me sarcastically. “She needed you. Hazel needed her father. You both needed a push. I just happened to have all the right cards at the right time for once and I played them.”

We fall silent as I digest everything he just told me.

“Why all the push and pull during the sale? Why all the crazy demands? You tried to stop this more than once.”

“I think you know the answer to that, son. You may have been the man she never got over, but you’re also the one who broke her in the first place. It was my job to put you through your paces. Make sure you were willing to do anything for her. Change your lifestyle for her. For my Nora. For your daughter. I knew if you were, everything else would work itself out between you two.” He takes a swig of his beer before continuing. “When I saw war in your eyes in that boardroom, I knew you’d stop at nothing until you had her. I saw a man uncompromising and resolute. I knew then you were worthy. Had I not seen that, we wouldn’t be sitting here today.”

Except he’s wrong. I would have stopped at nothing to get Nora, sale or no sale. “I would have found another way had you not sold me SER.”

“I know,” he smirks.

“I’m…wow. I’m impressed, old man. Well played.”

Carl just laughs. A full, hearty belly laugh.

“You knew I would win,” I say, more than a little amazed. I was so cocky at first, so overconfident and I doubted myself, doubted us, many times over the past few months, but Carl always knew. He believed even when I didn’t.

His head dips and he answers softly, “If you’re meant to be with someone, it’s a shame not to.”

“Sounds like experience talking.”

Carl clams up, finishing his beer on a long chug. I move on to the real reason I’m here, but I’m not done discussing this topic. It’s not lost on me that Nora being unaware Carl is her real father is just like me not knowing about Hazel. True, he’s been a part of her life, but not in the way he should have been. Hazel’s been in the dark all these years about my true identity, but so has Nora. How she can’t see that this man in front of me is her flesh and blood is beyond me.

It’s as clear to me that he’s her father as it is to Carl that I’m Hazel’s.

“I’m going to ask Nora to marry me. I want your blessing.”

“You don’t need my blessing, Connelly. But if you feel like you need it, you have it.”

I didn’t expect anything less, but now’s my time to move in for the kill.

“I thought it was customary to ask the father of woman you want to marry for permission.”

I’m not sure I could have surprised Carl more than if I’d sat here telling him I was a transvestite.

“Her father’s passed away, son. You know that.”

“No, the man who didn’t deserve that title is dead. Her real father is alive and kicking and still very much a part of her life, but for some fucking reason, he’s wearing a mask.”

“Connelly,” he growls. “Let it go. It’s not your business.”

It’s my turn to laugh, but it’s full of disbelief instead of humor. Oh, the irony. He pushed Nora and me together because of Hazel, but he refuses to own up to his own mistakes and be part of Nora’s life the way he should.

“Oh, it
is
my fucking business, all right. These are
my
girls we’re talking about. Their happiness is
my
responsibility. I am their protector now. I will not keep this from her, Carl. There are no more secrets between us. Nora needs a father. Hazel needs a grandfather. Time to man up.”

He shakes his head slowly. “It’s too late. I can’t…it’s…it’s too late.” The sound of defeat just plain pisses me off. I imagine I sounded much like this when I was sitting across from my mom only weeks ago.

“No, you’re wrong,” I tell him adamantly, remembering my mother’s words. “It’s never too late. You don’t want to be on your deathbed with regrets, Carl. This would be the pinnacle of regrets, not coming clean with her. She deserves to know.”

“She’ll never forgive me…or her mother.”

There’s a story here I ache to understand, but it’s not mine. It’s Carl’s and Nora’s. And he couldn’t be more wrong. If anyone will understand the angst he’s feeling, it’s my soon-to-be wife. If anyone can forgive him, it’s her.

“Wrong again.” My tone is so harsh, his gaze sweeps up to mine for the first time since we’ve started this difficult conversation. “She’s walked in your shoes. If there’s anyone who will forgive you, Carl, anyone who will understand, it’s your own daughter.”

He nods as understanding dawns on him.

“It’s never too late,” I add again. “Never. I’m the poster child of second chances.”