Page 42 of Good Girl's Bad Lessons

“Upset?” Nico shouted. “The word doesn’t even begin to describe me. Do you know what it was like to be raised by Calogero? He became an alcoholic monster after my mother’s death.”

Tears rolled down Desmorais’s cheeks, and he sucked in a breath, his eyes glittering with regret. “I didn’t know Luciana had died until many years after. Then I thought it was too late.”

“You’re despicable. I’ve been wanting to buy this property. You wouldn’t talk to me,” he said, remembering all the hoops he had to jump through to even secure a lunch with Desmorais. How much he’d had to do when the man could have seen him if he’d chosen to do so. If he had wanted to do so.

Desmorais wiped the tears from his cheek with the back of his hand. “I have a lot to apologize for.”

“Why? Why weren’t you even a little bit curious to see how I’d turned out?” God, he’d been worried about someone else’s kid that day at the beach. A kid he had never met before. Yet his so-called…father never bothered to check in on him. Worse, he’d turned down every opportunity to meet him.

Desmorais grabbed a tissue from a box and wiped his tears. “I thought you’d be better off without me. I didn’t know about how Calogero had mistreated you. After your mom sent me that letter, I decided to put the past behind me. I met someone else. I married. I had a daughter. Eloise.”

A daughter… Nico had a half sister. An overwhelming sensation filled Nico, and he rubbed his eyes, his vision dotted. He had a sister he’d never known about. “Why not? Why didn’t you talk to me as an adult? When you knew I wanted to buy the property? When you probably knew why—all this time?”

Desmorais fell onto the sofa, the creases around his eyes bunching. “I wasn’t ready to see you.”

“Well, now, you’re too late. I’m the one who doesn’t need to see you.” Why waste any more time with the pointless discussion? Besides, Nico had done just fine without a proper father so far. “Emma, where are you? Let’s go,” he shouted in the direction of the kitchen. “We’re done here.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Nico? Talk to me,” Emma demanded, sitting across from him in the jet. After they’d left Desmorais’s home, he’d rushed into his car. She’d never seen him so…sad. Quiet. Disappointed.

She’d maintained her silence to give him time to process during the ride to the airport, but now, after the jet had taken off, she had to push him. Otherwise he’d bottle everything up inside.

“What’s there to talk about? I’m not my father’s son, which is a relief, but at the same time, my biological father isn’t much better.”

She unbuckled from her seat and put Nicky back inside the crate Desmorais had given her. She hadn’t had much time to say goodbye to Desmorais, but he’d insisted she take the dog with her, and provided her with shot cards from the vet and a health certificate.

“Did Desmorais show any remorse? He looked shaken, too,” she said, remembering the image of the old man with puffy eyes and regret tightening the contours of his face.

“I don’t know. It’s easy to show remorse after the deed’s done.”

“I’m sorry.” She slid onto his lap and gave him a hug. “Are you going to talk to your brother?”

“We get along well. I don’t want to ruin anything.”

“It’s your choice. He’s your brother either way. That’s what matters,” she said, kissing his nose. His arms enveloped her, and she soaked in the warmth, pulling them to each other.

Nicky barked from his crate.

“I can’t believe in the middle of all this, you kept the dog,” Nico said.

She cocked her head to one side. “Why shouldn’t I? I totally fell in love…” She started, then stared deep into his eyes, the weight of her words clogging her throat. Chicken, a little voice inside her teased. “…with little Nicky.”

“I received a text from Zaine,” Nico shouted from his home office. “Their flight is arriving next week. And then the wedding.”

Emma shut her laptop. She’d been doing some work at his place before another naughty lesson. For the past weeks, she’d ended up spending more time at his house than planned. He always offered to take her out for lunch or share takeout dinner, and a few times they ended up watching a movie in the humongous media room that looked like a mini movie theater.

The same place where he’d eaten her out once while she watched a new release.

Her cell phone rang, and she looked at the screen. Simon.

She answered. “Hello.”

“Hi, Emma.”

She heard a lot of background noise. “Simon. Where are you?”

“I’m in Miami waiting for my next flight to get back to L.A. Listen, I have something to ask you, and it may seem weird, but I need to do it.”

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