Tiana (Starkis Family #3) (2 page)

She had every right to ask those questions. I only wished I had the right answers. “I honestly don’t know what I would have done, but I should have been given the opportunity to figure it out.”

“You can’t pretend you would have turned into a stand-up guy overnight. We both know that never would have happened. From everything I’ve heard about you since, you’re still the same guy now that you were back then.”

I routinely made the cover of celebrity gossip rags, mainly because I loved to party with A-list celebrities, especially beautiful blondes. “Maybe I could have changed… for Dalia’s sake.”

Andra laughed before covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. But you don’t believe that any more than I do. Face it, you’re not ready to be a husband or a father. And that’s fine. No one expects you to be either.”

Angered by her dismissal, I asked, “What if I want to be a father? What gives you the right to decide I’m not ready?”

Her expression turned somber. “I know your family is obscenely wealthy and powerful, but that doesn’t mean a judge couldn’t see the obvious. Nic and I are the best thing for Dalia. Having you in her life could only hurt her.”

Her words stung, mainly because I feared they may be true. Was I really so terrible that my own child would be better off without me? I thought about my lifestyle: the endless parade of women, copious quantities of alcohol, late-night parties, travel… maybe Andra was right. Maybe Dalia was better off without me.

“I don’t mean to hurt you,” she said softly. “Some people just aren’t cut out to be parents. That doesn’t make you a bad person. In fact, admitting it makes you a good parent.”

I didn’t appreciate being patronized by the woman who’d played God with my life. “How do you figure?”

“Think about it. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of people put their children up for adoption every single day. Why? Because they love them enough to want them to have a better life than the one they could provide.”

Most people who selflessly gave up their babies did so because they couldn’t provide for them. With my family’s billions, I certainly couldn’t have claimed to be a hard-luck case. If money was the only thing I had to offer, I was determined Dalia would never want for a damn thing. “I can provide for my daughter.”

“This isn’t about money,” Andra said, sitting back. “Can’t you see this is about doing what’s best for her? She’s happy. She’s excited about having a little brother. She has two parents who love her and each other. Would you really want to uproot her life?” When I didn’t respond, she asked, “Why? Because it’s what you want? Being a parent is about putting your kid first. What you want doesn’t matter anymore. The only thing that matters is what’s best for them.”

I knew she was right, but the churning in my gut told me that if I walked away from Dalia, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. “What if I were the kind of father she deserved?”

“What?”

“What if I could be that upstanding guy, someone she could be proud of?”
Like your husband.

“Let’s deal with the facts,” she said, her dark eyes meeting mine. “How many women are you seeing?”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t want my daughter exposed to
that
lifestyle, and there isn’t a judge in the world who would disagree with me unless you paid him to. So instead of talking about the man you could be someday, why don’t we talk about the man you are today?”

I swallowed. I wasn’t anxious to look in that mirror.

“So I’ll ask again, how many women are you seeing?”

Clearing my throat, I dipped my head to avoid her gaze. “A few.”

“How many in the last two weeks?”

“I don’t see what this has to do with—”

“A child needs stability in her life, Damon.” She closed her eyes as though I was testing her patience. “You can’t provide that.”

I’d never wanted to defend myself more, but I couldn’t. She had my number, and we both knew it. “Anyone can change.”

“Maybe.” She stood. “Maybe not.” Touching my shoulder, she said, “Maybe we can have this conversation again someday. Just know that when or if we do, my concern, my only concern, will be protecting
my
daughter.”

Damon

One Year Later

“She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with,” I said, slamming my fist on the mahogany desk. “If she thinks I won’t find a way to provide for my own daughter, she’s crazy.”

“I know you’re getting impatient,” my lawyer said, trying to placate me with a sympathetic look that made me want to smack him. “But we’re doing all we can to work this out.”

I didn’t need his sympathy. I needed him to earn the outrageous retainer I paid him and figure out how to make Andra accept the monthly checks I sent for Dalia. Even though no one else knew the truth about her parentage yet,
I
needed to know I was doing the right thing.

“But Andra has the upper hand, and she knows it.” David shifted uncomfortably, his face turning red as he slipped two fingers into the neck of his button-down shirt when I fixed him with a look that told him it was his job to make his biggest client happy. “If you force this, she could go to the media and your family. She’ll make you look like the bad guy, claiming you told her you never wanted to be a father.”

“Do I pay you to recite facts I already know?” I demanded, leaning in close enough to see the beads of perspiration dotting his high forehead.

David had been on our family’s legal team for years, but his excess weight and bum ticker made him a lousy candidate for this delicate assignment. I feared the pressure of keeping this secret from my menacing father and brother might send the old guy to an early grave. As if I didn’t have enough on my conscience.

“I don’t know what more I can do or say,” David said, taking a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his forehead. “You know what your options are: either let this go or fight it out in court.”

“I can’t let it go. We’re talking about my child. You’ve seen the pictures of that hovel they’re living in.” I tossed the envelope containing the returned check back at David. “This money would change their lives. Why are they being so goddamn stubborn?”

“Uh, Damon, I hate to bring this up, but—”

“What?” I asked, knowing whatever he was about to say would do little to improve my mood.

“I happened to see a picture of you in the paper this morning. You were out for dinner last night with your brother, his fiancée, and another woman—Eleni Litras?”

“Yeah, so?” Just the mention of Eleni’s name got me hot. I’d been after that girl since my brother, Deacon, had introduced us eight months ago, but she’d been playing it cool, pretending she wasn’t interested. Last night, I’d sensed my ice princess was finally thawing. Of course, it could have had something to do with the Sambuca shooters the girls did after dinner.

“If you do plan to take Andra to court, a stable relationship might help your cause, but Miss Litras may not be the best choice.”

“Why the hell not?”

“The press loves to play up your relationships with women like your model friend. Andra may assume you’re still living it up if she sees pictures of the two of you together.”

The paparazzi had always hounded me as if I were a freakin’ rock star, probably because I had a bad habit of getting into trouble that usually involved paying a hefty fine and spending a night or two in jail for reckless behavior. But I’d been trying to clean up my act since I’d returned to the States, mainly because I didn’t want Andra to think she hadn’t made an impression on me.

“Eleni is a friend.” My resentment at having to explain my relationship with Eleni to some crotchety old man laced my every word. “But for the record, what I do with her is my business.”

“Actually,” David said, smoothing a hand over the leather briefcase in his lap, “if this goes to court, the woman, or women, you spend time with will be called into question.”

“I don’t give a goddamn what they—”

“You have to care,” David said. “If you want to get to know your daughter, which seems to be your plan, you have to prove to the court that you’re responsible, especially if her parents contest the visitation.”

“Fine, I hear you.” I had no intention of cutting Eleni out of my life. I would just have to find a way to ensure our time together was private. “Anything else?”

“That’s all for now,” David said, getting to his feet with a weary sigh. “Ah, Damon, I only hopes this works out the way you want it to.”

He wasn’t the only one. Every day without Dalia was starting to feel longer than the last. I was starting to obsess over the things I was missing, the firsts I’d never witnessed, and the days slipping away.

***

My father threw my office door open without knocking, which was typical. He didn’t care whether I was on the phone or in the middle of a meeting. Because he owned the building, he thought he got free access to every square foot of the place whenever he wanted. Yet another reason why I had my eye on an office building downtown. Working for the family business was one thing, but living under my father’s thumb was quite another.

“Well, hello to you too,” I said, not tearing my eyes away from my computer screen. I knew he hated it when he didn’t get a person’s undivided attention, so I routinely ignored him just to get under his skin. “What can I do for you?”

“I saw David Reese getting on the elevator. I asked him what he was doing here, but he was vague. What was that about?”

I couldn’t let him see a crack in my veneer. I’d done a good job of keeping my meetings with David a secret, and I couldn’t give my father reason to dig deeper. “He wanted to speak to me about some property I’m looking to acquire.” David wasn’t a real estate lawyer, a fact my father would undoubtedly point out. “His, uh, partner is handling it for me, but since he’s out of town, David is filling in for him.”

Demetrius frowned as he poured himself a scotch at the mini-bar in the corner of my office. “What kind of property? You didn’t mention anything to me about that.”

A quick glance at the time on my computer screen told me it was just north of noon, but since my father was dressed for a round of golf with his buddies at the club, I knew he would be well on his way to feeling good in a few hours.

“I don’t have to consult you every time I make a move,” I said, the lingering annoyance from my meeting with David finding a new target.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He took a small sip of the scotch before apparently deeming it fit for consumption. “What kind of property is it?”

Demetrius was used to his sons challenging him. My brother and I were the only ones who could oppose him without feeling his wrath. I assumed that was because he’d raised us to be strong, opinionated, and domineering—like him. He’d raised his daughter, Tiana, to be sweet and submissive.

“An office building downtown.” I scrambled to remember some of the details about the building I intended to make an offer on, knowing he would demand the specifics. “I live downtown. It makes sense for me to have an office downtown. The commute here every day is killing me.”

“You could use your car and driver like a civilized person.”

When I’d been in Greece, Deacon had hired my driver, Barry, to take care of Mia. Since it seemed important to my brother to have someone he trusted watching his fiancée’s back when he couldn’t, I hadn’t had the heart to ask Deacon to find someone else.

“I like driving the Ferrari,” I said, tongue in cheek. I knew my blatant need for speed incensed my father. Drag racing expensive sports cars with my private school friends had almost landed me in juvie more times than I could count when I was a teen, shaming and enraging my father. That had been part of the fun. “It helps me blow off steam.”

“I’m surprised you still have a driver’s license, given all the speeding tickets you’ve gotten driving that thing.” His lips folded into a grim line. “You do still have a license, don’t you? You wouldn’t be stupid enough, reckless enough, to drive without one, would you?”

“You say the nicest things,” I muttered, reaching for my bottle of Perrier. “Yes, I have a license. If that’s all, you can leave now.” My father hated being dismissed like the hired help, which was why I did it every chance I got.

“Not so fast,” he said, scowling. “I want to hear more about this office building. I don’t know if I like this. I’ve gotten used to having you here, where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Another reason I don’t want to be here.” I turned my swivel chair and kicked my feet up on the desk. “You wanted me to come work for the company, to manage your real estate portfolio. I finally agreed, and I’m doing a hell of a job, just like you knew I would. Can’t that be enough for you?”

“You should be doing a hell of a job, given what your education cost me.”

I’d attended the finest schools in the world on my old man’s dime, and he never let me forget it. “From where I sit, the fate of this company rests in my hands. You push me too hard, and I’ll walk away again. I thought I made that clear when I agreed to take this position. You need me more than I need to be here. Without me, your baby will be in the hands of strangers whose only goal is to collect a paycheck. Is that what you want?”

“You know it isn’t,” he said, glaring at me as if he wished looks could kill. “You’re my son. Since your brother has no interest in this business, it’s up to you.”

“And Tiana,” I reminded him. My sister was brilliant, but she’d always been more interested in creative expression than business, which made her the perfect person to manage our father’s extensive art collection.

“You know your sister,” Demetrius said, slicing his hand through the air before draining his glass. “She’ll get married, have a few babies, and forget all about the business.”

“You hope.” I knew my father was trying to set her up with some guy from our village. In their modern-day arranged marriage, both parties were actually allowed to meet and decide if they liked each other before their parents booked the caterer.

“That is the way it will be,” he said defiantly, as though there was no room for argument.