My Billionaire Stepbrother (5 page)

Chapter Six

The next morning I awake to a
gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Good morning Mademoiselle
Veronique,” whispers Shereen. “You must get up, sleepyhead. Time for your
family brunch.”

My eyes flutter open as I stretch
lazily in my luxurious bed. Yesterday, after the Remington debacle, I found Shereen
and she settled me in a villa just as decadent as the first, if slightly
smaller, and I have to admit that I have never slept better in my life.

“Family brunch?”

“Oui. Your father, Madam Diana, and
Monsieur Remington will all be there.”

I groan. “Sounds like a disaster
waiting to happen.”

“Oui Mademoiselle, but we must go
and – what is the American expression? Face the music?”

“Yeah but I never asked for the
music!”

“C’est la vie.”

Shereen is right. I can’t hide in
this luxury villa and sleep all my troubles away. The sooner I sit down with
Dad, Diana, and Remington, the sooner we can all try to understand each other
and smooth things out.

And, hopefully, the sooner I can
get back to school.

“Alright,” I decide. “I’m up.”

It doesn’t take me long to dress:
all the fancy clothes are back in the bungalow with Remington and his orgy, so
all I can do is change into the jeans and t-shirt that are crumpled in a ball
in my backpack. Then Chip chauffeurs us down the lane toward the palatial villa
where my Dad and Diana have set up camp.

It’s a gorgeous spot; every villa I’ve
seen is beautiful, mostly glass, isolated and serene in its own private jungle.
You can’t see one from the next, so each guest feels like they have their own
personal tropical island. Whoever designed this place is a genius.

I step out of the car and see Dad
waving to me from a stretching balcony, where brunch is set up on a long table
overlooking the shimmering Indian Ocean. The scenery is, as always, utterly
breathtaking. And even more stunning is the contrast of facial expressions
waiting for me at this “family” brunch; Dad and Diana are still love-drunk and glowing,
and then there’s Remington tight-lipped and puffy-eyed from too many angry
margaritas.

It’s all I can do not to laugh at
him, and I subconsciously feel like I’ve already won this round.

Poor little rich boy. Didn’t get
your way? Can’t control the entire world?

“Good morning sweetheart,” my Dad
greets me. He stands briefly to kiss me on the cheek, and so does Diana. Her
arms close around me in a firm hug.

“Welcome, Veronique! Welcome,
welcome! I am so happy to finally meet you! Come sit and eat! Relax! Welcome to
The Seychelles! Welcome to my family!”

“Thank you,” I say shyly,
embarrassed by Diana’s openly affectionate and gregarious tone; I barely know
her! But in spite of my shyness she has me smiling.

Shereen winks at me and melts into
the background, helping the waiters set up our private meal. It’s then that I
notice the only empty seat at the table is next to Remington.

Ugh. Great.

Right now I am too mad at him to
feel fluttery or nervous in his presence. I barely look at him as I settle into
my place. Diana and Dad beam at me expectantly.

Nobody says anything for what feels
like too long.

“This looks delicious!” I blurt
out, trying to cover the awkwardness. “I can’t believe how beautiful everything
is here – the food, the island, the villas.”

“Ah, you are very sweet,” Diana
laughs. “Yes, we pride ourselves on beauty here. My family was lucky to be able
to build their lives and their business in The Seychelles.”

“You’re being modest my dear,” my
Dad pipes in. “Diana has an eye for beauty, but also a talent for creating
beauty wherever she goes.”

He takes Diana’s hand and kisses
it, making her laugh happily.

“It’s true,” she chuckles. “I love
beauty, which is why I love Jacques: such a beautiful, pure soul. Veronique, do
you know I have seen all of the most beautiful places in the world. In fact, I
am blessed to own businesses in most of them: The Seychelles, the Caribbean,
the South Pacific, even the Mediterranean. But I tell you this is the best spot
because of the people sitting at this table, and because of the love I feel for
you all.”

She kisses my Dad on the cheek and
reaches her hand out to squeeze Remington’s hand, but he retracts it like a
petulant teenager. Diana sighs.

God, he’s such a jerk.

“I’d love to hear your story,” I
manage. “How you guys met and fell in love. This was all such a huge surprise.”

Remington shoots me a dirty look.

Oh, whatever. Let him think what he
wants about me.

Dad and Diana turn and smile at
each other, lost in each other’s eyes.

“Well,” Dad begins. “I won a trip
to the Seychelles in a game in Reno: a royal flush is what did it. The queen of
hearts popped up on the river, and I felt the chill of destiny in my gut. I
knew my life was going to change.”

“Isn’t he a great storyteller?”
Diana interjects.

Remington rolls his eyes.

Seriously, are we twelve?

“It’s true,” Dad says. “I won a
trip here in a game: resort stay included. The man I won the trip from was a
one of those wealthy kids that never notices when he loses. He handed me his
tickets and his resort voucher and his chips with a smile, then said, ‘Africa
will blow your mind.’ And boy was he right.”

“You mean you hadn’t blown your
mind before coming here?” Remington grumbles.

Under the table, I kick him. I
can’t help it. He gives me another dirty look but falls quiet.

Dad ignores Remington’s insult and
continues. “It was the moment I got here, Kiki, the very moment I set foot
inside the resort, that I saw her across the room: the most beautiful woman I
had ever seen. And I knew I was going to marry her.”

“Oh stop!” Diana laughs, blushing.

“You fell in love at first sight?”
I blurt, stunned.

Dad nods. “Diana was in
mid-conversation with a group of Saudi Arabian sheiks, poised, classy and
laughing. So I went up to them, patted a sheik on the shoulder, and said,
‘Pardon me Sheik, but may I join you? I’d like to meet my future bride.’”

Diana laughs and kisses Dad
playfully on the cheek. “That is exactly what happened!”

Dad shrugs, his eyes twinkling
playfully.

Remington shakes his head. “Really?
That is it? That is the whole story?”

“Really,” says Dad.

“You are acting like a child,” Remington
hisses at Diana.

Diana ignores Remington, addressing
me. “I never met anyone like your father, Veronique. It was love at first sight
for both of us. The life he has lived, the bigness of his heart, the way he
sees the world. He is so full of curiosity and adventure and enthusiasm. In
this life, when you find someone so special, you cannot let him get away. You
cannot miss your chance. So I took my chance.”

She’s got a point: there is no one
like my Dad. His verve, his passion for the moment, his charm and childlike joy
– that is what makes it impossible not to love my father. I wonder if, in spite
of the haste, Dad and Diana really do know each other deeply.

Maybe this crazy marriage wasn’t so
crazy after all.

Remington doesn’t seem convinced,
but he at least has the courtesy not to say anything nasty. It seems to be a
truce for the moment.

Diana sighs happily. “I hardly know
how to explain how Jacques has changed my life since we met a week ago. I
thought when my first husband died I would never know joy again. But Jacques
has shown me that there is still adventure and wonder in life for me. He has
brought me a second chance at happiness.”

Now she reaches across the table
again with both hands, taking a hold of both my and Remington’s shoulders. This
time, he doesn’t pull away.

“I hope you kids can understand. I
know it is fast, but life doesn’t wait until you are ready. Life and love
happen on their own time. I hope that such a shock of joy can happen to you too.
I wish it for both of you. Jacques and I are so lucky to have found it, and we have
to share it with you. It is a part of your legacy now.”

Remington frowns as Diana reaches
to her right hand, pulling off a ring and holding it out to him. The morning
light glints so brightly off the stone it takes me a moment to truly see the
gorgeous emerald-cut yellow diamond. It’s bigger than any stone I have ever
seen before, even in the gossip magazines.

“Wow,” I breathe, in spite of
myself.

Beside me, Remington’s breath has hitched.
Stealing a glance, I see that his face is filled with emotion. He is fighting
so hard not to show it, but I can see his jaw working and his brow furrowing.

So he’s not an impenetrable jerk
after all.

“Your father gave me this engagement
ring, Remington,” Diana says. “Son, I want you to know no one can replace your
father. It is important to me that you understand that, but also that you
understand that part of your legacy now includes this hope for life after what
you think is the end, for renewal and resurrection and joy. When your father
died I thought I was dead too, on the inside. But the heart can hold so much
more love than you think is possible.”

To my utter surprise, I see that Remington
is actually crying. He silently wipes tears from his cheeks, staring at the
ring.

Diana smiles at him. “I want you to
have this ring now Remington. It is your heirloom. Your father would have
wanted us to live our lives to the fullest. So keep this ring until you find a
woman who brings you true life, then you must give it to her. You can’t stay
alone forever, son. You will find love too.”

I can feel the pain and the
tenderness radiating from Remington beside me, and I realize that his love for
his father must have been profound and deep. That explains why he’s been so
angry, so combative about this wedding: he is struggling with his loyalty to
his Dad.

Suddenly it hits me that Remington
Wilde and I have more in common than I thought; our love for our fathers drives
us, shapes us, defines us, and makes this surprising marriage especially
derailing.

I would never have thought it, but Remington
Wilde and I are surprisingly alike.

“Your Dad would have been proud of
you,” Diana concludes. “I know you are trying to protect me with all your
objections, but son, you must respect my choice to move forward with my life.
And you must move forward too. Here. Take the ring.”

Remington wrestles his feelings
down and takes the ring from his mom without a word, keeping his eyes down. I
avert my eyes, trying to respect the privacy and sacredness of the moment.

“That is not the only legacy we
want to leave,” Diana continues.

“Diana, we don’t have to discuss
this now,” says Dad.

“But I want to Jacques! Your poor
daughter has flown across the world to be here, and you insisted on the
surprise. She probably is exhausted, and I think she deserves to know that we
have not forgotten about her.”

Diana takes my hand across the
table.

“Veronique, your father has told me
everything. About your how mother died so young, God bless her, and how you were
always working so hard to take care of him from such a young age. I want you to
know you do not have to worry anymore. When your father and I decided to marry,
I insisted that we become true family. Family shares everything. What’s mine is
his, and what’s his is mine. I know we are strangers, Veronique, but I also
consider you my step-daughter.”

Dad shifts, looking a bit
uncomfortable.

“Wait,” Remington interjects. “What
do you mean, what’s yours is his? Tell me you made Jacques sign the pre-nuptial
agreement, Mom. Please tell me you haven’t completely lost your mind.”

Diana’s eyes flash.

Now I can see where Remington gets
his temper.

“Of course I didn’t make him sign
the pre-nup!  A pre-nup is an ugly thing, a mockery of marriage. The point of
marriage is to become one.”

Remington leaps to his feet.

“Mom! The man is a poker player, he
said so himself: a poker player who lets his daughter support him! Are you
insane? Without the pre-nup you’re a sitting duck with our entire fortune at
stake!”

My Dad stands too, holding his
hands out plaintively.

“Remington, please understand,” Dad
says. “I did sign the pre-nup. I agree with you: I wanted your mother to feel
protected. I am not interested in her money; I just wanted to be with her.
Don’t think for a minute that I have any intention of using your family
resources to gamble. I always use my own money. And I usually win.”

“That is actually true,” I
interject. “I just help with the bills.”

“It was my decision,” Diana
insists, banging her fist on the table. “Jacques begged me to sign it too, but
I refused. I tore it up in front of our lawyers. And I would do it again today
or tomorrow. It is my choice. So Remington, sit down.”

Remington glares at my father a
split-second longer, assessing, and then plops angrily into his chair.

“Back to what I was saying,” Diana
says, collecting herself. “Veronique, I want us to be a family. I have so much
respect for everything your father has told me about you, how hard you work and
how focused you are on pursuing your success as a musician. I want to help you.
This is my idea, by the way Remington – not Jacques’.”

If possible, Remington pouts even
more.

“We have set up a trust fund for
Veronique. And, we have made her a minority holder of Wilde Hospitality Corp.
The stocks are already worth several millions, Miss LaRoux, with the trust
yielding upwards of two hundred thousand dollars a month.”

My cheeks begin to tingle with
something between shock, shame, and hope. Diana smiles at me, completely
oblivious to how much her generosity has the power to change my life.