Chapter 45
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Chapter 45
Sarah
I walk back into the house and peer through the window to see Gabriel get out of the car. It’s Thursday,
he couldn’t even wait for the weekend.
He’s wearing a charcoal suit with not a hair out of place, chunky watch, and expensive shoes, he looks like a fish out of water here.
“He’s back,” Lucy says from her place beside me.
“You be nice,” I tell her. I glance back to Dominic. “You use your manners today, please.” He stays silent.
“Dominic, do you understand me? Best behavior today.” He nods.
We all watch from our place from the window as Gabriel walks up the front stairs, and I open the door
before he knocks.
“Hello.”
“Hello.” He nods, his eyes find the children behind me and he stares at them for a beat.
I step back to grant him access. “Come in.”
He walks past me into the house, and Dom and Lucy look up at him as if he’s an alien.
Gabriel looks around our quaint little house and is quiet, for the first time in history I get the feeling he is
lost for words.
That makes two of us.
“Please meet…” My voice trails off and I put my hands on Lucy’s shoulders. “This is Lucia.” I present her to him. “Lucia, this is my friend, Gabriel.”
Gabriel’s eyes flick to me in question, and I give a subtle shrug. I have no idea how to introduce him.
“Hello,” Gabriel says to her.
Lucy stands at his feet and looks up at him. “You’re very big.” “Tall,” I correct her.
“You’re very small,” he replies.
“Randy Marks calls me a mouse because I’m so small,” she says matterof–factly.
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“Well…” His eyebrows flick up as if surprised. “You tell Randy Marks that he has big ears.”
What?
“This is Dominic.” I cut them off. “Dom, this is Gabriel.” “Hi,” Dom says without so much as a glance.
Gabriel’s jaw ticks as he stares at him, clearly annoyed by his rude behavior. Fuck.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” I ask to change the subject.
Gabriel’s eyes come back to me. “Yes,” he replies.
“Why don’t you guys go outside and play before dinner?” I fake a smile; everything is great here. Nothing to see. Happy, happy, happy.
“I don’t want to go outside,” Dom replies.
Gabriel’s unimpressed eyes flick over to him.
“Go upstairs then, sweetie.” I widen my eyes at him. Not now, fucker.
Dom stomps up the stairs as if I’m a major inconvenience.
This damn kid will be the death of me.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last six years, it’s that sleeping with a dominant man may be hot, but raising one as your son is a lot less desirable.
Lucy stands at Gabriel’s feet as she continues to look up at him. “Why are you wearing that?”
“Wearing what?” he asks.
“That…” She gestures to his clothes.
“My suit?”
She nods with a goofy smile. “It’s funny.” “You never saw a suit before?” He frowns.
Help.
“Upstairs, sweetie.” I cut her off. Please stop telling him how uncultured we are. “Mommy has grown–up things to discuss with Gabriel.” I glance over at him to see that his face is cold and expressionless.
Take the offer, Lucy, trust me…upstairs is a much better option.
She skips upstairs and the room falls silent, ugh… Don’t leave me alone with him.
Lohanan at I ove
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Gabriel sinks into a chair at the dining table and I flick on the coffee machine.
Shit….I search my mind for the next thing to say.
I glance over my shoulder to see him looking around my house, I can’t imagine what he’s thinking. Everything in his world is opulent and over–thetop luxury and this is a little log cabin on the lake where everything is homemade. Even our cushions on the couch are crocheted, not that I like them. Mavis down the road makes me all kinds of ugly shit. The kids think her creations are marvelous and who am I to be a grinch.
I put Gabriel’s coffee down on the table and take a seat beside him.
“So…” I shrug.
“So..”
“You.” I swallow the bucket of sand in my throat. “I’m assuming the results are back.”
“Yes.” His eyes hold mine. “How were you so sure?” “Because I don’t sleep around, and you know that.” He
rolls his lips and remains silent.
“So what happens now?”
He sips his coffee and winces. “Ugh. What is this fucking shit?”
“Coffee, Gabriel.”
“Christ almighty, you still make the worst fucking cup of coffee.” He pushes his cup forward. “That’s inedible.” “You drink it, not eat it,” I snap.
He raises an eyebrow as a silent warning, and I widen my eyes back.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t you.”
God, this is never going to work.
We fall silent for a while.
Finally, I ask him what I need to know. “What are you doing here?” “I came to make the arrangements.” Arrangements?
“For what?”
“You’re going to have to move back to New York.”
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“Sorry…?”
“I’m very busy with a lot on and I don’t have time to be coming out here.”
What?
“Of course I will cover the costs and get you a nice place, the movers will pack for you and everything will be taken care of.”
I stare at him as I have an out–of–body experience.
“I was thinking of my penthouse in Park Avenue, you may decorate it however you wish, I suppose.” He
thinks for a moment. “But I want to get a say on the interior designer you choose.”
I blink in surprise. “No.”
“What about my terrace in Manhattan, then? I thought you may prefer that one, it is only four bedrooms, though, and it doesn’t have as good a view.” He thinks for a moment. “And the commute to my place will take longer in peak hour traffic. No…I think I would prefer you in Park Avenue,
it’s a two–story penthouse, it’s a lot bigger and closer to my place.”
“I’m not moving anywhere.”
“What do you mean?”
“The kids‘ lives are here. Their friends and school are here.” I shrug. “I’m not moving them anywhere.”
“Yes. You are.”
“No. I’m not.” I feel my temper begin to rise. “You can’t just barge in here and demand that I move back to New York. You have no say in where we live.”
He narrows his eyes. “I want and will be taking fifty percent custody of my children. With or without your permission.”
“Your children?” I cross my arms as my temper prepares to blow. “That’s a joke, right?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he whispers angrily. “I have the paperwork to prove it.”
“You made it very clear the night they were conceived that it was a seminal transfer.”
His eyes flicker with fury.
“You are a sperm donor and nothing more.”
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“How fucking dare you,” he hisses. “You walk into my office late at night after a Christmas party and seduce me on my desk. Strategically fall pregnant. Carry my child in secret for nine months, give birth to not one but two of my children and never once call to let me know.” He stands. “Who the fucking hell do you think you are kidding with this Pollyanna act. And while we are at it, how dare you name my son Dominic?”
“What did you want me to call him?”
“Gabriel.”
“I know a Gabriel, and it turned me off the name.”
“You can talk, you’re a deceiving witch who is using my children as a weapon against me.”
“Get out.”
“No.”
“Get the fuck out,” I whisper angrily. “We don’t want you here.”
“They don’t even know me.”
“And that’s how it should stay. Go home to your husbande, Gabriel. Start again, have a million Italian
babies with her.”
He glares at me. “I’m organizing the move.”
“Go to hell.”
“You want to do this?” He raises an eyebrow. “You really want to push me, because I can go for full. custody if that suits you better.”
“And there it is,” I whisper angrily. “I knew it was coming. Get the fuck out right now.”
“You cannot stop me from seeing them.”
“I never said I was. If you want to build a relationship with them, you come here to do it. You are the adult; you are the one who needs to make the effort. You have a private jet, for fuck’s sake, you can fly in
whenever you want.”
“I want them closer.”
“Get to know them first.”
“If you live in New York, you can come back here every weekend.”
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“What?” I explode. “Can you even hear yourself? You have absolutely no interest in these children and their well–being. Let me get this straight, you want them to live in New York through the week and come back here on the weekends?”
“Yes.”
“But you work fourteen–hour days through the week.” He opens his mouth to say something but I cut him
off.
“And at the time when you could actually spend some quality time with them on the weekends, you want to pack them up and send them back here to get out of your hair.”
“That isn’t how it is.”
“That’s exactly how it is.” I march to the door and open it. “Get out.”
