Authors: Maggie Marr
Tags: #FIC027020 FICTION / Romance / Contemporary; FIC044000 FICTION / Contemporary Women
“Better tell Max so he can pack,” Aubrey said and started to stand, but Max peeked his head around the doorway to her office. “You were in on it too?”
“He was our secret weapon,” Dad said.
“If the pie didn’t work,” Nina added.
“He wasn’t opposed to begging—we’d told him it might come to that.”
She couldn’t help but smile because of the giant grin on Max’s face. She’d not seen a smile like that since … Well, since Justin had been there. “Okay, go get packed then. Looks like we’re taking a trip to New York City.”
Max didn’t move.
“Eight a.m. is early,” Aubrey said, trying not to be pushy but also trying to impress upon Max that he needed to get his things together.
“Don’t worry about me, Mom,” Max said and lifted a plate of pie that he’d walked into her office holding. “I’ve been packed for this trip since before Dad went back to NYC.”
Three weeks. He’d been without Max and Aubrey for three weeks, and each day seemed longer than the one before. “Liza, you ordered flowers, correct? Wildflowers with hydrangeas for the blue room and the bath, I also want them in the—”
“Living room and dining room. Yes, sir, we have six dozen arriving fresh this morning.”
“Veuve Clicquot?”
“A case.”
“Hamburger, nacho-cheese chips?”
“And the latest issue of
Sports Illustrated
.”
“And
“Key lime pie. Yes, sir, just as you ordered. The reservations at Yankee Stadium. We have tickets to the three shows that you requested. You’re also dining with Mr. Rodriguez this week at Blue Hill.”
“Excellent, excellent. And my brothers?”
“They are arriving now.”
Justin hung up his office phone and spun his desk chair around from staring at the Manhattan cityscape. Nothing like putting off the inevitable until the bitter end. He’d not had the right time or the right place to inform his three younger brothers of their nephew. The past three weeks had been a gauntlet of legal meetings, press conferences, and conference calls with infernal bankers. Between the hostile-takeover attempt financed out of Dubai and the nightmare unfolding with the prostitution ring in the Travati nightclubs, the past three weeks had been hell for all four of the Travati brothers.
“We’re here.” Leo sat on the sofa and poured himself a cup of coffee out of the carafe on the end table.
“Tell me it’s good news.” Devon plopped down beside Leo, who was just tilting his cup to his chin.
The coffee slid over the rim and sloshed onto Leo’s tie. “Nice job.”
“Sorry,” Devon quietly said.
You knew things were bad when he didn’t have a smart comeback to make to one of his older brothers. Devon’s eyes looked tired with lines of worry and fatigue. He and the Travati legal team had spent three weeks going through every employee, every patron, every businessperson that went to Prayer on a regular basis, attempting to make certain there was no indictment where Devon was concerned.
“We could all use good news.” Anthony sat on the chair opposite the sofa. He was impeccably crisp. Perfect suit. Perfect tie. His discipline rivaled Justin’s, as did his error toward overwork and type-A tendencies. His face didn’t move, only the light in his eyes gave away that he was even remotely interested as to why his eldest brother had requested all four Travati brothers’ presence in his office.
“Well.” Justin stood from his desk and rounded the corner. “I think it’s good news, but I’m particularly interested to hear what you three think, because what I’m about to tell you impacts the entire Travati family.”
The three brothers exchanged looks. Only Anthony’s face couldn’t be read, no real change in his facial features; however, he did give a swift tug to his tie as an indicator of his interest about whatever it was that Justin was about to tell them.
Justin’s heart beat against his ribs. Why was he worried about telling his brothers about Max? Why did he even have the slightest hesitation? They were brothers. Competitive, yes, but still they loved each other, and of course they would be happy for Justin when they heard that the one Travati brother they’d thought could never, after his illness, have a child, in fact could … had … Max was nearly grown, but he was a Travati. The next generation of Travatis.
“As you know, I was in Kansas last month—”
“We’re not buying a farm, are we? Those wide-open spaces really freak me out,” Devon said. “What do people
do
out there?”
“Cattle and land are both quite lucrative.” Leo took another drink of coffee.
“Plus, you weren’t really
just
in Kansas,” Anthony said. “Were you, big brother?”
Justin squinted his eyes. While Anthony was his brother, his younger brother, lately he’d noticed an edge. A privacy that might not have existed six months ago, a secretiveness to his nature. Was Anthony having him followed? Tracking his whereabouts? How would Anthony know anything about Justin’s trip and two better questions: what and why?
“I was in Kansas for business, but business of a personal nature. Business that impacts us all.” He passed his gaze over his three brothers: Leo with his confident and athletic air, Anthony with his brisk and perfectly maintained demeanor, and Devon, who until recently had maintained a constant joie de vivre about life and business.
“It would seem that I have a son.”
Silence. His brothers exchanged looks but for a moment not a word was said.
“How is that possible?
“I thought after the radiation treatment—”
“Are you certain it’s yours?”
“Max was conceived before my illness. Before my radiation treatment, before I lost my ability to father a child.”
Leo’s face spread into a smile. “Well done, big brother, well done.” He’d been the brother most aware of Justin’s acute disappointment with the thought of never having his own family.
“Are you certain?” Anthony asked. He spread his hand over his tie and gave it a small pull. He crossed his legs and rested his ankle on his thigh. “Blood tests? Paternity? We don’t want a gold digger coming after you simply because your illness put you in an emotionally vulnerable state.”
Heat flamed through Justin. Anthony could be direct. He could be self-absorbed. At times, he could even be a pain in the ass. But he was rarely rude, nor did he often become aggressive with his brothers.
“I’m certain Max is my son. I have no doubts, and I’m sure when you see him—”
Anthony’s eyes narrowed. “My God, you didn’t have a DNA test done, did you?”
“Anthony, the boy is mine. I spent the night with his mother, and she’s not taken another lover—”
“Ever? Come now, Justin, that has the phrase
gold digger
written all over it. A former lover, a one-night-stand even, shows up, claiming the boy is yours and asking for money? Are you in such a vulnerable state that you didn’t even request a paternity test?”
“That’s why you were with Aubrey Hayes.” Leo leaned back against the couch. “I always found her to be quite good to look at but aloof. Never seemed like the type.”
“She wasn’t. She isn’t.”
Justin’s chest tightened and heat boiled his blood. He wouldn’t have his brothers making disparaging remarks about the mother of his child or his son. He turned his hard stare toward Anthony. “The boy is mine. Are we clear? I won’t have any of you treating him like anything but your nephew.”
Anthony jumped from his chair. “Well, when you prove that he
is
my nephew, I’ll certainly treat him as such, but until I see it from a lab, all he is to me is an interloper with a greedy mother.”
“Anthony, might I suggest you take it down a notch?” Leo looked from Justin to Anthony. “You’re speaking about our brother’s son and the mother of his child.”
“His
alleged
son.”
“If there’s enough proof for me, then why isn’t it enough for you?”
Anthony pulled at the edge of his suit coat. “We’re talking about the heir to a
billion-
dollar fortune, Justin. This isn’t just some random hookup the tart had, but she’s now managed to wedge her trash and illegitimate child into our lives.”
As children, the Travati brothers had fought. Tussled and tumbled. They’d broken skin and even given bruises. Justin had given as good as he’d gotten, but at some uncertain moment near adulthood, the physical punches of sibling rivalry had stopped. The physical altercations at least, aside from a jovial pound on the arm, ended. They no longer fought or pummeled or bruised each other. But at this moment, with Anthony standing across the room and his mouth spewing forth insults with regards to Max and Aubrey, the people who were now Justin’s family, Justin pulled on every bit of patience and calm to hold himself back from lunging across the end table and beating the living hell out his arrogant asshole of a younger brother.
“Anthony,” Justin said evenly with a hard edge to his voice, “I will only ever say this once to you. If you ever make a disparaging remark about Max or his mother to me or to anyone else and I find out, I will make certain that you eat through a straw for the next six months.”
“Threats?” Anthony pressed his hand to his hip. “You’re making physical threats now, to your brother? The person you
know
is related to you?”
Devon’s head jerked toward his older brother.
Leo leaned forward and placed his palms together. “Anthony, Justin is right. He determines the satisfaction with regards to proof of paternity, and if he says Max is his son and our nephew, then he is. This is not ours to question. Wouldn’t you expect the same sort of respect?”
“All I know,” Devon said, “is I’m happy to not be the youngest Travati anymore. Don’t have to deal with all the crap of being the youngest for the rest of my life.” Devon lifted a strawberry from the fruit tray before him and smiled. “Got somebody to show the ropes to now.”
Justin turned to his younger brother. “I’m not sure rope-showing would be appropriate for this trip.”
“What? He’s coming here? You’re going to let people meet your bastard son?” Anthony asked.
“What did you just say?” Justin walked toward his brother and halted.
They stood toe to toe. Anthony was still a quarter inch shorter, even in those two-thousand-dollar Italian handmade shoes.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me, little brother. One more disparaging word, and we’ll be calling an ambulance to get you out of my office. Are we clear?”
Anthony’s nostrils flared, and his lips peeled back into a snarl. Leo jumped up from the couch with Devon just behind.
“Hey, guys?” Devon said and stepped beside Anthony while Leo stood near the center of this soon-to-be dogfight.
“Oh, we’re clear,” Anthony said. “And you know exactly what I think of this woman and your
son
.” He turned on his heel and exited the office, throwing one look over his shoulder at his three brothers, a pitying look as though to say,
what fools could you all possibly be
?
The tension in the room eased. “Let it go, Justin. He’s dealing with some serious stuff right now. He isn’t himself.”
Justin didn’t care what the hell Anthony was dealing with as long as his brother understood that he couldn’t make negative remarks about Justin’s family.
Family
? That’s what Aubrey and Max were to him now. He considered them family.
“I’m happy for you, brother,” Leo said and slapped his hand against Justin’s arm. “When do they arrive? Can’t wait to get to meet my nephew.”
“Yeah, man. Didn’t think you’d ever get to have a kid, and now? Wow. This is good news, the best news I’ve heard in weeks.” Devon threw his arms around Justin and gave him a big hug. Their baby brother had always been a hugger. While the other three Travatis were more prone to distant signs of affection, Devon was one to throw his arms around someone and give them a big hug.
“Mom and Dad would be so happy, man,” Devon said into his brother’s ear. He pulled back, and a giant smile took over his face. “Max, huh? Just like Dad?” Devon nodded and glanced from Justin to Leo. “So when the hell do we get to meet this guy?
“Mom, this place is huge!”
Aubrey didn’t know what she’d expected, but she hadn’t expected this monstrous penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan. Of course she’d worked in finance, and of course Aubrey understood wealth and the immense fortunes that a tiny number of people in the world had accumulated. Yes, she knew in
theory
that such wealth existed, but to see the evidence of it, the manifestation of that kind of money, to be in the center of a home that represented all those dollars made by one person, was nearly overwhelming.
She looked at Max.
And all this was his. Or would be some day. The pearl within the oyster. The son of one of the richest men in the world.
Her stomach wobbled. Her fingers tingled.
“Mom, is this real? I think I saw this painting in one of my history books.”
Aubrey walked toward the Picasso. “Oh, I’m pretty certain that’s an original.” The spaciousness of this room made her feel as though she hovered over New York. Nearly everything was below her. Max pressed his nose to the glass, and she fought the urge to yank him away from the window.
“Wow! How high up do you think we are?”
“Exactly one thousand, three hundred and eighteen feet,” the voice from the door called.
Aubrey’s heart accelerated, and now the cool feeling of sweat lined her tingling palms while the rest of her body heated. Justin, looking dapper and handsome and every bit the titan of business as he walked across the open expanse to Max. He reached out and pulled him into a hug, a giant smile taking up both of their faces. “Thanks for coming, buddy, and sorry it took so long for your old man to get it together.”
“No problem, Dad.” Max pulled away and looked up at his dad with an awestruck look. He obviously felt that his dad had quite possibly hung the sun, the moon, and the stars.
“Aubrey.” Justin turned toward her and walked to her side.
Heat flared between them, but there was an awkwardness and uncertainty. While he’d exited Hudson better than she’d thought he would and her anger had died down, they’d never addressed the disagreement they’d had. And Max still didn’t know about the
relationship
they’d had while Justin visited Kansas.