Damon (Starkis Family #2) Page 2

  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.

  Ornery old bastard. I rolled my eyes. “Have you considered the possibility that Tiana is interested in someone else, an American?” I thought of my brother’s best friend, Blake. The chemistry between him and my kid sister was so off-the-charts hot even I’d noticed. I knew Blake wasn’t the type of man to honor old-world traditions. That was another reason my father despised him.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “An American could never understand our culture or—”

  “Deacon is marrying an American girl,” I reminded him. “You don’t seem to have a problem with that.”

  “Mia is different,” he said, smoothing a hand over his Armani golf shirt. “She is a good girl and keeps your brother grounded. He needs that. Besides, she’s agreed to convert, so there won’t be an issue.”

  I thought of how much he would like Eleni. He would claim she was a good Greek girl who would fit into our world seamlessly, in spite of the fact she hadn’t lived the privileged life I had. The only thing that prevented her from being perfect in my eyes was my father’s guaranteed acceptance.

  “Your mind is wandering,” he said, eyeing me carefully. “Why? What are you thinking about?”

  I had to hand it to him—even though he’d just celebrated his seventieth birthday, he was as sharp and perceptive as ever. I couldn’t tell him I’d been thinking about a woman though. We’d never had the kind of relationship where the lines between parent and confidante got blurred. My business was my own, whether Demetrius liked it or not.

  “Just thinking about my agenda for this afternoon.” I scanned his clothes. “It looks like you have plans as well, so I’ll let you get to it.” I gestured to the door as I planted my feet on the floor.

  “You’re up to something,” he said, leaning on the edge of the desk as he looked me in the eye. “I’ve known you your whole life, gotten you out of more trouble than I care to remember. When you’re knee-deep in something, I’m among the first to know.”

  He was bluffing. He had to be. There was no way he could know about Dalia. If he did, he’d be camped out on Andra’s doorstep, demanding to spend time with his firstborn grandchild.

  “I’m not sixteen anymore, in case you haven’t noticed,” I said, trying to relax my clenched jaw. “If I’m having a problem, I’m more than capable of handling it on my own.”

  “Then you admit there is something,” he said, pointing at me. “I knew it. You’ve been too sedate since your return from Greece. Not of whiff of discord in your world. We both know that’s not like you.”

  “I thought that would make you happy.” I shrugged. “Mother reminded me you’re not getting any younger. I wouldn’t want to be the reason your ticker finally gave out.”

  He glared at me as if he were seriously considering whether to throttle me. If there was one thing my father hated being reminded of, it was his mortality. Not that I was counting the days or anything. He was still my father. In my own twisted way, I loved and respected the man, even if he gave new meaning to the word tyranny on a good day.

  “You think I will be so offended by your slurs that I will ignore that familiar look in your eye?”

  I purposely shifted my gaze and picked up a folder. That earned me a hearty chuckle from him, as though I’d played right into his hands. Anything I said from this point forward would be used against me in the court of his opinion. He would talk about it with his buddies at the course, asking their opinions on what his “problem child” could be hiding this time. Demetrius was a powerful and suspicious man with an army of private investigators on speed dial.

  I had to toss him a bone to throw him off the trail. “If you must know, there’s a woman.”

  His sigh was deep and foreboding, as though he was amassing energy to unleash another tirade. “Isn’t there always a woman with you? What have you done this time?” When I didn’t respond, he said slowly, “Do not tell me you got some girl pregnant. I swear to God if you—”

  My heart nearly gave out, but I couldn’t let him see me sweat. “You really do have an overactive imagination.”

  Many said I bore a striking resemblance to the man my father had been thirty-plus years ago, and when he looked at me like that, I could almost believe it. When no one was around to judge me, I studied my reflection, chastising and swearing at myself for the mess I’d made of my life. I had a child who didn’t know me. I had fallen for a woman I could never have… all while living a year of quiet desperation that consisted of near celibacy and outrageous lies.

  “Then you need to tell me what’s going on because I can promise you I will find out, with or without your help.”

  My father was always true to his word, so I heard myself say the only thing I could. “Deacon introduced me to Eleni shortly after I returned from Greece.”

  “Eleni?” His mouth tipped up on one side. “Is she the reason you’ve been, how you call it, ‘laying low’ since your return?”

  I was amused by my father’s turn of phrase. He had worked hard to not only learn but command the English language when he’d moved to this country decades ago, and he prided himself on always being grammatically correct. He claimed it was a sign of good breeding and intelligence.

  “She’s one the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen,” I said, shaking my head slowly. Confiding in my father about my attraction to Eleni felt strange since I’d never opened up to him about anything of importance. Since he’d forced my hand and seemed genuinely interested, I reached into my desk and produced one of Alabaster’s latest catalogues. I held up the cover for my father to see. “You tell me. Am I wrong?”

  Demetrius’s eyes widened fractionally before he smirked. “You have good taste, my boy. But then, it was never your taste I questioned. It was always your judgment.”

  Ignoring the well-placed barb, I said, “I can’t deny she’s the reason I’ve been distracted lately, but she’s not the reason for the change, at least not entirely.”

  Demetrius opened his hands. “Continue. I am listening.”

  Having my father’s undivided attention was rare, so I told him something I’d only shared with my brother. “I decided to make some changes before I returned to the States. I didn’t like where my life was headed.” I’d had the epiphany after Andra had walked out of the café and left me alone to contemplate my future.

  “I’ve been trying to tell you for years that you were on a dangerous slope.”

  He spoke the truth, but it was the last thing I wanted to hear. “I looked in the mirror one day and realized I didn’t really like the man I’d become.” Of course, it hadn’t been a literal mirror. It was a figurative mirror Andra had held up and forced me to look at.

  His eyes narrowed as though he was trying to gauge my sincerity. I’d never said those things to Demetrius before, never apologized for my mistakes, no matter how heinous or embarrassing. I couldn’t blame him for being skeptical. That was why I hadn’t returned home claiming to be a changed man. I was determined to show, rather than tell, him I was different. It had taken my self-absorbed father a while to notice, but I was somewhat gratified to hear him finally acknowledge the change, even if it was wrapped in a veiled threat to uncover the reason behind my sudden tr
ansformation.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “I behaved badly to get attention, believing I was above the law and rules didn’t apply to me.” I wasn’t proud of that truth, but there it was. I wasn’t someone a driven, self-made billionaire like my father would be proud to call his son. “I was wrong. Rules do apply to me, and there are consequences to actions.”

  “What made you realize this?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. He seemed to believe me, or at least he was open to considering the possibility I was telling the truth.

  “I was going through another reckless phase, drinking too much, sleeping around…” My voice faded, but I forced myself to look Demetrius in the eye. “I felt out of control. I knew I needed help.” Granted, seeing my daughter had been the catalyst for change, but he could never know that. “So I got it.”

  “You got help?” he asked, raising a groomed eyebrow. “What does that mean? Surely you didn’t open up to a stranger about your problems, about your childhood, our family’s private business. Tell me you are not that stupid, Damon.”

  I should have known he would react that way. My father was old-school. He believed in handling problems the old-fashioned way—behind closed doors—and when his children had been young enough for corporal punishment, with a belt strap or a firm hand.

  “I did what I had to do. This is my life,” I said, flattening my palm against my chest. In spite of my strong words, my heart was hammering at the sight of the disgust, rage, and maybe even a touch of fear I saw flash in his eyes before he shut me out again. “I wanted to get better, so I did. I took a long hard look at the reasons why I was behaving the way I was. I stopped playing the blame game and admitted I was an adult who was responsible for his own decisions.”

  “I cannot argue with that,” Demetrius said, seeming relieved. “This person you talked to…” He cleared his throat. “I assume he was a highly qualified, discreet professional?”