His Forever (His #3) (5 page)

“I’d love to tell you I think we should leave,” Hayden said, laughing bitterly.  “Believe me, I want out of here!  But if I’m to be completely honest, I think you made the right call, Daniella.  This is where we’re safest, and I’ll do anything to keep you safe – even put up with my father.”

I climbed to my feet then and stood in Hayden’s path so he’d have to stop pacing.  He came to a standstill in front of me, his tall frame towering over me.  He put his hands on my arms, stared into my eyes and then leaned down, kissing me like he never wanted to let go.  And that was fine by me.

As our lips
and tongues engaged in a slow, sensuous dance, I made up my mind.  Regardless of my own reservations and cautious nature, I knew that Hayden cared deeply for Steve Martel.  I knew that seeing his one true father figure destroyed financially and in reputation was painful for Hayden.  And I knew that I’d do anything to take Hayden’s pain away.

S
o I was going to do what Hayden couldn’t.

“I can understand what Hayden sees in you.
  He’s made a lot of stupid, immature choices in his life just to spite me but you’re not one of them.  Finally, it seems, he got something right.” 

Once again I was in Henrik Slate’s office
, only this time I’d accepted the drink he’d offered me.  I’d reasoned that drinking with him would encourage him to indulge more.  That’s what I was counting on, anyway, because I hoped that once his inhibitions came down I could put my plan into motion.

It seemed Henrik’s inhibitions certainly were coming down.  I was surprised to find that
Drunk Henrik was complimentary, not in a creepy way but in a manner that simply made his high opinion of me known.  He regarded me thoughtfully from across his desk as he absentmindedly stirred a martini.  His words were slightly slurred but the sentiment came across loud and clear. 

Blushing, I
looked away, unsure of how to respond. 

I’d never imagined I’d c
ome to enjoy having drinks with Hayden’s father, but I found myself looking forward to that time.  It offered me a glimpse into the childhood and psyche of the man I loved.  Considering my tendency to overanalyze everything, it was invaluable to me.

One thing I didn’t care to analyze
at all was why I hadn’t told Hayden about the drinks with his father.  It wasn’t that I was deliberately keeping them a secret – I just didn’t want to give Hayden anything else to get upset about.  And besides, Henrik was an interesting guy no matter what Hayden thought. 

“Are you close to your family?” Henrik asked.  The first couple of times we’d met for drinks he hadn’t asked me much
about myself, presumably because he didn’t care.  Instead, he’d seemed to want to confide in me.  I sensed that he was lonely there in his big mansion and perhaps he needed someone to lend an ear.  But lately it seemed I’d piqued his curiosity.

“Not really.
  I see them a couple times of year during the holidays, usually, but that’s about it.”

“Why is that?”

I shrugged.  “My parents have always favored my sister.”  To say she and I had sibling rivalry was an understatement.  But rivalries are no fun when you know your opponent will come out on top every single time, at least as far as one’s parents are concerned.  It was a sore spot, but I tried to downplay it.

“That’s absurd,” Henrik scoffed in a way that made the corners of my mouth turn upward ever so slightly.  “They mustn’t realize how lucky they are to have a lovely girl like you for a daughter, the damn fools!  I would have loved to have a daughter like you.”
  It was affirming to know that he was so vehemently on my side.

Early on, I’d warned myself not to let my guard down around Henrik.  But there was something so endearing about what he was saying that I couldn’t help but feel
a little affection for him.  He was most certainly rough around the edges and sometimes his personality could be downright abrasive.  But every so often I caught a glimmer of the man Hayden must have spent his entire childhood wishing his father could be. 

He was in there.  He was just buried deep.

It was a shame Hayden had never been able to see that.  Maybe if he had, their entire relationship could have been different.  It still probably wouldn’t have been all sunshine and rainbows – I doubted Henrik was a sunshine and rainbows kind of man.  But maybe they could have come to a mutual understanding.  Maybe their relationship didn’t need to be filled with such contempt for one another.

I felt a twinge of guilt over having an agenda, but I rationalized it by telling myself Henrik had left me no other choice.  Hayden was right about one thing:  his father was a control freak.  But I was confident I could beat him at his own game
. 

Henrik might be unusually skilled at recognizing bad acting, but I’d had a lifetime worth of clumsiness to prepare me for this performance!

I picked up my martini to take a pretend sip.  Then I had a momentary change of heart and actually did take a sip.  It was a shame I wouldn’t be able to finish it because it was delicious!  But getting drunk wasn’t in the plans…getting Henrik drunk was.  Over the past few days I’d seen how his defences began to come down once he had some alcohol in his system.  Having his defences fall away completely once he’d consumed
a lot
of alcohol was exactly what I was counting on.

“Oh!” I cried out as I fumbled with the glass and spilled the drink all over my silk dress.  “No!”

Henrik’s eyes widened and he quickly offered me a neatly pressed, monogrammed handkerchief from his suit pocket, but it was no use.  I’d ruined my lovely silk cocktail dress.  Conveniently, I didn’t even have to feign my horror at destroying such a beautiful garment – it was one of the designer black dresses Hayden had given me and it was something I’d have never been able to afford on a college instructor’s salary.

“I loved this dress,” I sighed as I dabbed at the stained fabric in vain.  “I’m such a klutz.”
  Since both those statements were very much true, I was confident Henrik’s suspicions wouldn’t be aroused.  Why lie when the truth will serve you just as well?

Henrik opened his desk drawer and pulled out a checkbook.  “It’s pointless to waste time agonizing over problems money can easily solve,” he advised.  “Go buy yourself a
new dress.”  He scribbled something on the paper, scrawled his signature and tore the paper free.  When he handed it to me and I got a glimpse of what he’d written, I basically had to pick my jaw up off the floor.

“This is too much,” I gasped. 

Getting money from Henrik had been my objective all along, of course, but I would have been happy with a much smaller amount.  It appeared Henrik was in a particularly generous – and intoxicated – mood.  He’d written me a check for fifty thousand dollars.  Suddenly any regret I’d felt over ruining my dress was gone.  It had been well worth it.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said firmly.  “Buy yourself a whole new wardrobe if you like.  If that isn’t enough you just let me know.
  There are some ladies shops on Rodeo Drive that you might be interested in.  I can have one of my drivers take you to Beverly Hills tomorrow.  I expect you might enjoy an outing after being cooped up here at the mansion, no?”

Despite Henrik’s generosity – and what it meant for my plan – I couldn’t help but feel a bit crestfallen.  I’d thought the fact that he was giving me so much money meant he cared, but if he was encouraging me to leave the mansion and be out in public…

“Isn’t it dangerous?” I asked in a small voice, trying not to let on how hurt I was.  Maybe it didn’t matter to him if I was murdered on the street amidst all the fake tanned, busty blonde trophy wives who were out to spend their surgeon husbands’ earnings on fur coats, leather handbags and snakeskin boots.

“Dangerous?” he repeated, looking
genuinely puzzled.  Then understanding set in.  “Oh, that,” he acknowledged before taking yet another drink.  “The death threats aren’t real.  They never have been.  You’re not in any danger.  Neither you nor Hayden ever were in danger.”

I blinked.  “Excuse me?”

“I had the threats sent to Hayden,” he said simply as he poured himself yet another drink.  “Hayden’s so-called bodyguards were hired actors and the dangers they protected him from were entirely fictional.  People will do almost anything if you pay them enough,” he slurred with a touch of disdain in his voice.

Speechless, all I could do was
gawk at Henrik in utter disbelief.

My reaction seemed to tip the drunken man off that he’d said far too much.  A
s though his words had just sunk in, he smacked his forehead exactly the same way Hayden occasionally did.  “I shouldn’t have said that.  Forget I said anything.”  It seemed that being drunk didn’t just incite Henrik to write large checks on a whim.  It also caused him to get a little too chatty…or rather,
a lot
too chatty. 

“Uh, how can you tell me to just
forget about what you said?” I demanded.  “There’s no way I can do that.  What do you mean you sent the death threats?  What kind of father does that to his own son?” 

I noticed my voice was growing shriller by the minute, a testament to my mounting indignation. 
Mess with the man I love and you mess with me.  Maybe Hayden had been right about his father after all.  Maybe I was the one who, overly eager to see some good in him, had misjudged Henrik Slate.  And now I was angry.

Henrik looked mournful – and, for the first time since I’d met him, dishevelled. 
He began to say something but it came out as an incoherent jumble of words that made little sense.  Clearing his throat, he tried again.  “I’m too drunk to have this conversation right now,” he told me amidst a fit of hiccups.  “Come back tomorrow and I’ll explain myself.”

Unsure of what to do, I didn’t budge from my seat.  I wanted answers
now
but I admittedly had gotten Henrik pretty damn inebriated.  I didn’t want the incognizant ramblings of a drunken man; I wanted the truth.  Maybe it would be best to wait for him to sober up.  Reluctantly, I stood. 

“Don’t tell Hayden,” Henrik pleaded, suddenly looking like a feeble little old man whose world was about to crash down around him. 
“He can barely tolerate me now as it is.  If he finds out about this he’ll spend the rest of his life hating me.”

A flash of anger rose up inside me then, searing hot and impulsive.  “Could you really blame him
if he did?” I blurted out, my hands on my hips.  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him?  You’ve taken away his freedom and nearly destroyed his life.  Hayden has every right to be furious with you and, come to think of it, I do too.” 

“At least hear me out first.  Please, Daniella, I’m b
egging you.”  Henrik buried his head in his hands then, like an insolent child that’s been caught being naughty and is about to be punished.  I waited for him to stop hiding his face from me but he didn’t. 

Unsure of what to do, I said his name and got no response.  I said it again and he didn’t react at all.  Timidly, I poked his arm, half-expecting him to sit up with a roar and go off on a drunken tirade.  But he didn’t budge. 
Then I heard the quiet, rhythmic snoring of a man who’s had far too much to drink.  He was out cold.

Deeply irritated and in total shock, I stalked out of Henrik’s office angrily in search of Hayden.  I didn’t care what Henrik had asked of me
.  He wanted me to keep my mouth shut until I’d heard him out, but too bad.  My loyalty wasn’t to him.  It was to Hayden.  There was no way I’d keep a secret as huge as this from the love of my life…not even for one night. 

After leaving Henrik’s office,
I searched the mansion high and low for Hayden.  The way I charged around like a bull in a china shop wasn’t exactly dignified or ladylike, but I didn’t care.  My shoes in my hand, I ran barefoot from room to room desperately trying to find him.  But he was nowhere to be found. 

Finally I managed to find a staff member who actually knew Hayden’s whereabouts.  But I didn’
t like his answer one bit.  “Oh yes, Ms. James,” the head chef told me apologetically.  “The younger Mr. Slate had to make a last minute trip to Amsterdam to prevent an art deal from falling through.”

“Amsterdam?” I repeated, feeling my heart sink.

“Yes.  Apparently a vendor threatened to back out on a deal at the last minute.  An in-person intervention was necessary.  I’m afraid I don’t know all the details,” the jolly looking man said, smiling ruefully.  “I just make the food.”

“Do you know where he’s
staying or where his meeting is to be held?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. James. 
I don’t.”

“Well who does?”

“As far as I know he usually makes those arrangements himself despite his father providing him with a personal assistant to work out the details.  It drives the elder Mr. Slate up the wall,” the man confided, grinning a bit and lowering his voice.  “If you ask me, it seems like that’s exactly
why
the younger Mr. Slate does it!” 

That was so typical of Hayden.  What I’d once found amusing and even kind of cute was now frustrating me beyond belief.  How was I supposed to reach Hayden on short notice if I didn’t even know where in Amsterdam he was?