coldly about his wife and son.
‘So a paternity test?’
‘Whatever it takes.’
‘Will your wife agree to a paternity test?’ Aiden queried, thinking of the pictures, the framed Playboy image. The house, whilst overtly opulent, did appear to be full of love. But then appearances can be deceiving.
‘Probably not,’ Sam sighed. ‘She’s adamant the boy is mine, but I don’t buy it. You need only stand him next to his brother to see the truth of her indiscretion. I’m expecting you, as my lawyer, to handle this. I want that paternity test with or without her consent.’
‘I’ll certainly do my best.’ Aiden felt uncomfortable about going against the boy’s mother. He’d rather reason with her and see if he could get her to agree to the test, keep things amicable. No doubt if the son wasn’t Sam’s, things would get increasingly messy so he wanted to prevent causing further anguish within the family.
‘Marriage isn’t what it used to be,’ Sam Fern mused sadly. ‘When my parents got married, it was for life and they were genuinely committed to one another.’
‘You don’t think marriage is like that now?’ Aiden asked, sipping on his delicious iced tea.
‘Is it?’ There was something oddly knowing about the way Sam asked, which again made Aiden question just how close he was to his brother Buck.
And the question instantly made Aiden think of Brandy. He tried to push her from his thoughts and was grateful for the distraction when Sam’s secretary hurried over to them, looking concerned.
‘Mrs Fern is here,’ she said apologetically.
‘What the hell is she doing home already?!’ Sam scoffed angrily.
Aiden shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He’d rather not be present if a domestic was about to take place.
The sound of high-heeled shoes clipping against the marble kitchen floor proceeded Deena Fern’s entrance. As did the high-pitched squeals of young children.
The boys came running out on to the terrace first. Well, one ran, the other toddled in a style akin to Meegan’s. They eagerly came over to their father.
‘Daddy!’ the older of the two boys greeted Samuel Fern merrily. ‘We went to the store and bought baseball stuff.’
‘Baseball!’ the younger boy echoed happily.
‘Boys, you need to settle down. We have a guest,’ Sam gestured to Aiden and the two boys turned to stare at him with wide, questioning eyes.
‘This is Mr Connelly. Mr Connelly, allow me to present my boys. This here is Jude,’ the older boy politely extended his hand in greeting which Aiden shook, bemused at the formal gesture.
‘Nice to meet you Mr Connelly,’ Jude told him, his childish manner suddenly gone and instead a young man primed to inherit his father’s empire stood in his place.
‘And this is Davis.’ The youngest boy did not move to shake Aiden’s hand; instead he hid shyly behind his older brother at the sound of his own name.
‘They’re chalk and cheese,’ Sam said, casting an angry eye towards the now-hidden Davis.
Upon meeting Samuel Fern’s sons, it was evident that the two young boys could not be more different both in manner and in looks.
Jude was noticeably tall for his age and already had the look of a long, lean body. He had curly blonde hair and the same ashen eyes as his father. He was polite, courteous and seemed keen and alert. Jude was already displaying some of the traits he would have as a grown man and it was immediately evident that Sam Fern was very proud of his oldest son.
Davis seemed to have a shorter, stockier physicality. He couldn’t have been much taller than Meegan. His hair was dark brown and shone in the sunlight. And it was as straight as it was dark, sitting flatly atop his little head like a helmet. His eyes were almost the same colour as his hair; rich and dark. A spattering of freckles bought out by the sun were dotted upon his cheeks and despite his shyness he seemed playful.
In contrast, Jude’s skin was flawless. There was no denying that the boys really were polar opposites but that didn’t exactly indicate infidelity. Aiden knew plenty of siblings who were nothing alike, even those who were twins. But Sam Fern was adamant that something was awry.
‘They were playing up at the store so I had to bring them back early,’ Deena Fern called from inside the house as her clipped footsteps drew closer. She came out on to terrace, dressed suitably for the part of a millionaire’s wife.
She wore denim hot pants, twinned with a crisp white T-shirt and beige wedges which showed off her long, tanned legs. Her platinum-blonde hair cascaded down her back, pulled back by a pair of designer aviator sunglasses which she’d pulled up to reveal sparkling blue eyes.
Deena Fern still retained the beauty which had made her a Playboy centrefold. Her skimpy clothes emphasized her curves which, even after having two children, were impressively defined. She was tall, even without her shoes she’d easily have been close to six feet tall, making her taller than her husband.
Her face, whilst no stranger to the surgeon’s blade, was still stunning to behold but in the brash style that glamour models seemed to favour. Her eyes were framed by false lashes, her skin glistening from foundation and her lips a deep red from gloss. She was dressed to impress even though she was only taking her sons to the store. Men’s eyes would always follow her wherever she went, Deena made sure of it.
‘Deena, I have company,’ Sam told her curtly. Deena flashed a quizzical look at Aiden and then back to her husband.
‘I didn’t know you were having a business meeting today,’ she said sternly, as if annoyed at being left out of the loop with regards to his plans.
‘It’s not business.’
‘Baseball,’ Davis peered out from behind his brother to whisper the word to Aiden, and then promptly popped back in to hiding.
Aiden smiled. Both of the boys were adorable.
‘Can you take the boys inside?’ Samuel asked his wife.
‘But it’s so nice out,’ she objected, deliberately being difficult.
‘They can come out when my guest has gone.’
‘I promised them they could go in the pool.’
‘Well in an hour or so they can.’
‘It will be getting cool then.’
Samuel Fern closed his eyes and exhaled. He was clearly tiring of the conversation with his wife.
‘Take them in,’ he told her, exasperated.
‘You take them in; I’ve been with them all day!’ Deena was getting angry but there was something more in her voice, something hurt.
Aiden imaged that it had not always been so strained between them. The framed picture of her centrefold said as much. She was probably used to men doting on her,
