me Miranda, and please, have a seat.” She settled onto the chair beside him. “I apologize for not being direct about why I invited you here.” She sifted her fingers through her wavy red hair. Her sparkling, deep blue eyes seemed sincere. “But I didn’t think you’d come if I’d told you the truth.”
True.
But that didn’t earn her a pass for lying to him.
“So the collaboration was just a ruse?”
“I prefer to think of it as bait.” Miranda smiled sweetly. “What I said about wanting to create a signature clothing line…that’s absolutely true. I’d like to revisit the topic once all of this is sorted out.”
He acknowledged her statement with a slight nod. But his head still swirled with the news of his paternity.
So much for those fantasies of a reunion with my long-lost father.
“Darius…” Miranda placed a gentle hand on his forearm. “I can only imagine what you must be feeling.”
“Then I’ll tell you.” He glared at her. “I feel like I’m being manipulated. By you. By that lawyer. And by a gutless old man who never gave a damn about me when he was alive but wants to play God with my life now that he’s dead.”
Miranda seemed willing to absorb his anger, her gaze still warm and sincere. “If I was in your shoes, I’d probably feel the same. But there’s something you need to see.”
Miranda retrieved a thick envelope from the desk and sat beside him again.
“Buck and I hadn’t spoken much since our divorce. So I was as shocked as anyone that he charged me with handling some very sensitive matters after his death. I’ve received more instructions via letters over the past few months. Yes, the man could be an asshole.” She laughed bitterly. “But one of his deepest regrets was never getting to know you. He implored me to bring you here, so you’d have the opportunity to get to know your brothers and sister. And he wanted you to know that, regardless of what you might believe, you were never far from his thoughts.”
“He had a damn funny way of showing it.”
“Buck struggled to show affection with everyone. It destroyed both of his marriages. And it’s the reason his relationships with his children were strained. The reason he died alone.” She frowned. “But it doesn’t mean he didn’t care about you.”
Miranda handed him the envelope. “Buck wanted you to have this…to know that even though you were apart, he always held you in his heart.”
She stood. “I’ll leave you alone with it. You can review it here for now. Once the DNA results have been confirmed, it’s yours to keep. When you’re ready, my driver will take you anywhere you’d like to go. I’ve reserved a furnished rental home in town for you. It’s yours for as long as you need it.”
Miranda handed him two business cards. “If you need me or Kace, just give us a call. I’ll be in touch.”
Once Miranda was gone, he opened the envelope. It held a scrapbook overflowing with photos and newspaper articles. On the first page, there was a photo of a newborn he recognized as himself. A duplicate was in his mother’s prized photo album.
Darius made his way through the scrapbook one aged photo, yellowed newspaper clipping and dog-eared magazine article at a time.
The man had been following his childhood, his academic career and his business triumphs. Yet, he hadn’t reached out to him once in thirty years.
What am I supposed to feel for a man like that?
Darius dropped the scrapbook onto the desk, slipped his Prada shades back on and met Miranda’s driver, Leslie, at the car.
“Where shall I take you, sir?” She opened the door. “Back to the airport or to your rental home?”
Darius slid into the back seat. “Neither. Take me someplace I can get a decent hamburger, fries and shake, please.”
He wasn’t sure what he’d do next. He only knew that he thought better on a full stomach, and he longed for the comfort of carbs while he plotted his next move.
Darius stepped inside the quaint little Royal Diner. The place looked like a throwback from the fifties, with its red faux-leather booths and black-and-white checkerboard linoleum tile floor.
He ordered a mile-high bacon cheeseburger, wedge fries and a thick, handmade strawberry shake. The same meal he’d ordered when his mother and Will would take him out to eat after a big win or a devastating loss.
It was still his go-to meal for either.
And today he found himself thinking of his mother and stepfather more than he had in months.
He was furious that his mother hadn’t told him Buckley Blackwood was his biological father. But part of him missed the great hugs his mom gave whenever he’d had a bad day. And the corny jokes Will would tell to lift his spirits.
But then, they hadn’t distanced themselves from him. He’d pulled away from them because they’d been lying to him his entire life.
Buckley Blackwood was just another lying parent who only revealed the truth when it was convenient. Darius already had a bookend set of those.
He should feel badly that he’d never meet his biological father. But the only thing he felt toward Blackwood was resentment. The man could’ve picked up the telephone or flown his private plane to reach him at any point in the past thirty years.
He’d chosen not to. Not even when he was dying and knew he had only weeks to live. Instead, he’d apparently spent the end of his life concocting this manipulative scheme.
But to what end?
Amanda Battle, the woman who’d introduced herself as the owner of the little diner, brought him his meal and shake. He nibbled on one of the fries, dipping it into the ketchup he’d poured on his plate.
Darius had spent the past twelve years musing about his mysterious biological father. Right now, he wanted to hate the man. But the scrapbook Miranda had given him didn’t correspond with the heartless man he’d imagined.
It wasn’t just that the old man had been collecting photos, news clippings and such about Darius his entire life. The photos showed signs of frequent handling. The dog-eared magazine articles appeared to have been read repeatedly. It was the kind of scrapbook he’d expect from a parent who actually gave a damn about his kid.
He sighed, nibbling on more fries. The two sides of the man who was likely his father were incongruent, at best. But clipping out a few magazine articles didn’t excuse Blackwood for being a shitty, absent father.
For that, he would never forgive him.
Darius took another of the wedge fries, swiped it in the milkshake and popped it in his mouth.
It
