Page 93 of Vicious Arrangement
“I ordered you breakfast.”
She gives a tiny laugh. “It doesn’t count if you didn’t make it.”
“This is New York, who has time to cook?” I help her into the bath and I stay with her, sitting on the floor.
“Is the food here?”
“Yup.” I get up and grab the plain pancakes and the syrup, and I break a piece off and hold it to her on the fork. “Can you hold this down?”
“I don’t know…”
“Try.”
She eats it and closes her eyes. After a few minutes I whisper, “Hey,” and give her another mouthful. “This is better than my cooking. You’re keeping it down.”
I’d rather sit here with her than think about whoever this prick is bothering me. He probably doesn’t know the family money came from my mother’s side, from Oscar’s. Dad had some, buthe married Mom for her money. A prick through and through, one who didn’t understand hard work but wanted its rewards.
Oscar’s words are so familiar they could be my own.
Jonathon Barry married Caroline Templeton and took on her last name, took over her money as his own.
And then, when Grandfather cut her off at the wedding from his vast fortune, I’d be the heir, I guess my fuck of a father took it out on her. Even though Mom had millions in her trust he used.
So if whoever this is wants my father’s money, he’s out of luck. There isn’t any. If he wants to bring some scandal to the table, he’s too late. The biggest one is already out there.
My father was a wife beater and a murderer who died by his own hand.
Aria glances at me as she uses the soap bar to create a little lather, and I try not to glue my gaze to her tits that look fucking magnificent when, hard nippled and calling my name. “Is something wrong?”
“Everything’s right from this view.” I trail a finger in the water, brushing over a nipple, before realizing what she means. I feed her another mouthful. “Just something annoying…”
“Sometimes if you talk, things make better sense or lose power,” she says. “And it’ll help me get my mind off my nauseous stomach.”
I eye her. She looks a whole lot better than she did, and she’s eating the pancakes bite by bite.
But I sigh. “Some prick called and emailed me, ordering me to get in touch, something about my father. I don’t want to knowa fucking thing and he’s probably just after money. They usually are. Or a retro story, which I never give.”
“Maybe you should talk to him. You can say no to whatever it is, but it’ll stop him from contacting you, and let you put this to bed. Maybe he found a letter, or maybe your father?—”
“My mom’s father, Oscar Templeton, raised me. I’m a Templeton and my father took on the name so this is going to be about the Templeton fortune, not anything to do with my father, unless they want to write some story, which I’m not into.”
“I’m glad you had family.”
I laugh bitterly. “What family? My grandfather blamed me. He hated me, not one drop of love was handed to me. Everyone else thought he was nice, but I knew just how cold and unfeeling he could be. Or…”
“Maybe he felt guilty, Noah. Because there’s no way he could see anything evil in a little boy, and you don’t have evil in you. If I thought you’d raise a hand in anger to me, I’d be gone. You never have, though.” She accepts the final bite of the pancakes, and I set down the plate.
When she swallows, she continues. “The only reason I’m telling you to maybe contact him is for you. To put this to rest so you can move on. You aren’t anyone but you, Noah, and you’re worth everything.”
Fuck. She’ll make me cry. “Finished with the bath?”
“Will you email or call?”
I push out a laugh. “I’ll think about it. I’m going to make an appointment just to make sure you and the baby are okay.”
After I’ve made an appointment,and the goddamn horse dog pushes into my room to see her. I guess the animal isn’t too bad. He gives me anxious looks as he stands in the bathroom doorway, whining.
“Angus,” she says as I edge past the dog to help her out of the bath and dry her off.
