FOREVER BELOVED (Billionaire Love Series) (7 page)

He was full-grown and I had no idea how to
relate to him. I didn’t have much of a role model and I certainly
didn’t want to be a cold motherfucker like my father was.

I was stuck. Consequently, I pretended my
life hadn’t changed. I started working non-stop on the team, the
hotel, and my other investments.

The only time I took a break was when I
worked out. On a Wednesday afternoon in early September, when the
leaves were beginning to turn various shades of yellow, red, and
purple, I headed into my training session with Ibrahima.

I threw on my shorts and sneakers, and met
him by the climbing ropes.

He glanced at me with worry in his fierce
gaze. “You’re working too much. More than usual. What’s going on?”
he asked perceptively.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’d rather work yourself to death?”

“Maybe. It’s better than the alternative,
which is to stop and think about how fucked up my life is right
now.”

“Have you talked with anyone about what’s
going on with you? Whatever happened with that lady you told me
about?”

“Yeah, she’s the one causing so many issues
in my life. I just found out she had my kid.”

His dark face grew wide with shock. “Your
kid? You’re a dad?”

“Yep. Sort of. If I can start being a dad to
a twenty-two year-old I don’t know at all.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“Nope. I’ve talked to his mom recently and
that didn’t go well. But she did give me his number.”

“Did you call him?”

“No. I don’t know what to say.”

“He’s twenty-two. Just treat him like a
friend. Call him up and go to a game. You can hook him up with
that, can’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess. But what do we talk
about?”

“Whatever comes up. Let him take the lead. If
he wants to get into the heavy details, let him ask questions. Just
figure out what you want to tell him. Honesty would be the best
policy, but that’s up to you. Otherwise, just see what
happens.”

“I don’t know if I can handle that. I’m so
goddamn mad at his mom for not telling me about him. I don’t know
why she would do that. It doesn’t make sense. But you should have
seen him when I confronted her about it. He was in my face in a
heartbeat, protecting his mother. I gotta say when I realized who
he was, I was proud of his courage.”

Ibrahima smiled big. “Ah, already signs of
paternal pride. You have it in you to be a great dad, Beau. I think
you should give it a shot.”

I appreciated his confidence in me. “Do you
have kids, Ibrahima?” I had never bothered to ask. Too caught up in
my own shit.

His entire face lit up in a beaming smile. “I
do. Two boys and a girl. They try my patience, but I love them
dearly. I would give my life for each of them.”

I could tell he meant it. Ibrahima was a
great coach; I could only imagine how amazing he was as a
father.

“So what’s this young man’s name?” he asked
in genuine curiosity.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Charlie. Marla
named him after my grandfather. At least, she got one thing
right.”

“I’m glad you can see that, Beau. It’s good
to appreciate the little things.”

“I’m trying, but I’m ready to train.”

“Yes, yes,” Ibrahima let out in his rich
voice. “Come. I’ll work you hard today, Beau Shepard.”

I grinned. “Bring it on.”

He gave me an evil smirk “Let’s start with
burpees. Give me fifty.”

He meant what he said.

He kicked my ass the entire time, making me
feel every crunch, every burn, and every hold. But it was worth it
to forget everything for a little while.

After we finished my training session, I
hustled home to change for another charity function I had promised
to attend. I went through the motions and got through my
evening.

But on the way home from the benefit gala, I
thought about inviting Charlie to a game. It seemed harmless. We
didn’t have to talk about anything major and we could always watch
the game if we ran out of things to say.

Another month went by, while I gathered the
courage to meet up with Charlie. I remember it was on a random
Thursday in October when I decided I was ready to see my kid.

“Will you call Charlie for me?” I asked as
Donna as we stood in my office, preparing for a meeting.

I had filled her in about him one afternoon
when she’d asked me what was going on.

Her light blue gaze studied me thoughtfully.
“No, Beau. You need to do this.”

“Please, I’ll buy you a Ferrari,” I
pleaded.

“What the hell would I do with a Ferrari?”
she shot back. “Just call your kid.”

Damn it. I was probably the only rich man in
Baltimore who couldn’t bribe his secretary.

I reluctantly picked up my cell phone and put
his number into my contact list from the yellow post-it Marla left
me. I hit send, wondering if I was really going to go through with
this.

It rang three times, but he picked up.
“Yello?”

“Charlie?”

“Yep, that’s me.”

I cleared my throat. “It’s Beau Shepard.”

“Hey, dude. What’s going on?”

“I was calling to see if you’d want to join
me for the Gator home opener this Friday in my box.”

“Are you serious?” There was serious
excitement in his voice.

That made me feel better. “Yeah, I want you
to come see a game.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be there.”

“Do you want me to send a car for you?”

“What? No, man. I got my own wheels. I’m
good.”

“Okay, just tell the ticket agent who you are
when you arrive and they’ll make sure you get to the right
place.”

“Sounds awesome, man. Can’t wait. See you
Friday.”

That went better than I’d hoped for. He
actually sounded majorly excited about watching a game with me.

Friday rolled around and I was seriously
nervous. I had never been in this kind of situation before. I
wanted everything to be perfect. So I made sure Joaquin had stocked
the kitchen with every snack and drink choice possible. I knew
Charlie would probably be a ravenous beast, like any other
twenty-two year old guy.

Ten minutes before the game started, Charlie
showed up. Unlike me, he was relaxed, with a smile on his young
face. I couldn’t believe how much we looked alike.

There was no doubt he was my son. His wild,
curly hair reminded me of mine at that age. We were almost the same
height and he was skinny, like I’d been, waiting to grow meat on
his bones.

Still at some point, I wanted a DNA test done
before I put a trust fund together for him.

“So this is what a luxury box at the
Baltimore arena looks like? This is how the better-half lives?” he
asked, glancing around at the pool table and wall of TV’s. “I like
it.”

“Come on in, Charlie. Would you care for
something to eat?” I asked pointing to the buffet of junk food I
had prepared.

His dark eyes lit up with glee. “Yeah, man.
Those nachos look killer.”

“Help yourself. Want something to drink?”

“Yeah, I could go for a beer.”

“Are you old enough to drink?” I asked.

“I’m legal. Since last year.”

“Wow. You’re really full grown,” I said in an
attempt to understand I had an adult son.

I signaled to Joaquin to pour Charlie a cold
one, but it felt weird to give him a beer. Like I was breaking the
law or being a bad influence.

“Yep, I’m an adult, but I still act like a
kid most of the time,” he volunteered as he shrugged out of his
black leather jacket.

“Enjoy it while it lasts.”

He scoffed. “Like you grew up, dude. I see
you in the paper all the time for all the parties you throw.”

He wasn’t going to cut me any slack. “That’s
different. That’s business.”

“I don’t know about that. Sure looks like a
lot of fun.”

He was fishing for an invitation. I decided
to give it to him straight. “It’s all right. But to tell you the
truth, it gets old after a while.”

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of a
good party.”

He was definitely young. “Why don’t you go
get your nachos?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. I’m on it.” He
practically ran to the food.

Amused, I changed the subject as he heaped
chips, cheese sauce, hamburger, and jalapenos on his plate. “You
like hockey?” I asked as he took a seat next to me, so we could
watch the game.

“It’s all right.” He shrugged, more
interested in his nachos. “These are so good. Can I have more?”

“Sure, you can have as many as you like.” I
motioned to Joaquin, who was standing by for nacho duty.

“Cool. I’m so hungry. My mom says I eat her
out of house and home.”

“I believe it.”

“So what do you like to do?” I asked.

“Oh, jokes are my thing. Love the jokes,” he
said, taking a drink of his beer as we sat in the seat facing the
game.

“Yeah, I think you come by that honestly.” My
granddad was the same.

“Got any good ones?”

“Sure. Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Interrupting cow.”

“Interrupting cow w—“

“Mooo!” Charlie said, chuckling as he got out
the punch line.

I laughed from the sheer corniness of the
joke. “Nice one. So you like the knock, knock jokes?” I asked.

“I do. You can’t go wrong with a
classic.”

“That’s a classic? Try this one on for size.
An Englishman, American, and Irishman, all walk into a bar and
order a beer. The bartender gives them each a beer; however, there
are flies in each mug.

“Well, the Englishman pushes the beer aside
and says, ‘That's disgusting.’

“The American pulls the fly out and starts
drinking the beer.

“The Irishman pulls the fly out, sets it on
the counter and shouts, ‘SPIT IT OUT YOU BASTARD!’” I finished in a
bad Irish accent.

Charlie let out a peel of laughter, sounding
like a deranged hyena. “Oh, that’s a good one.”

“Yeah, it’s a classic,” I laughed, pleasantly
surprised he found my joke funny.

“That’s a keeper. I’m locking it in the
vault,” Charlie giggled, pointing to his temple.

“You do that,” I chuckled.

With humor in the air, we turned our
attention to the game and watched it for a little while as the
Gators took a 3-0 lead in the second period.

“I could get used to this,” Charlie
confessed, after his third trip to the nacho bar.

“I do like my box. I spend a lot of time
here.”

“Do you come to all the home games?”

“Pretty much. I usually use the time to
network and invite different people to enjoy the VIP
treatment.”

“Well, I will come back anytime you want me
to.”

I was pleased. “Consider yourself invited
back.”

“Cool. So what’s going on with you and my
mom?” he asked abruptly, as he took a sip from his bottle of
beer.

That was a loaded question. “Um...it’s
complicated,” I answered, hoping he wouldn’t want more
information.

“That’s a dumb answer. Of course, it’s
complicated. You just found out you have a kid and I just found out
I have a dad. But you have to treat my mom right because otherwise
there is no way we can move forward.”

I guess we were already in our first man to
man talk.

“I can appreciate you defending your mom. But
a lot happened before you were born. Your mom broke up with me and
then never let me know you were in the picture, which isn’t cool at
all. Believe me, if I had known, I would have been there.”

Charlie shot me a quizzical glance. “Have you
ever asked her why she never let you know about me? Maybe she had a
good reason. My mom is a very wise, wonderful woman. Growing up,
she always told me what a good guy you were and that she loved you
very much, b—“

“She still loves me?” I interrupted wildly,
my voice suddenly high.

“You didn’t know that?”

“No, no. I thought your mom had a much
different opinion of me.”

“Man, every time my mom talks about you, she
gets all glowy with this dreamy look in her eyes as she tried to
explain to me who you are, and what you’re about.”

“Really?” I asked in stunned disbelief.

“Yep. My mom holds nothing but love for you,
man, and if you can’t see that, you don’t deserve her.”

That just about knocked me on my ass. It just
didn’t make sense. Why would Marla tell Charlie such great things
about me, but never let me know I had a kid?

Something was fishy.

Things weren’t adding up.

CHAPTER NINE

Marla:

I was happy Beau finally reached out to
Charlie. I had prayed Beau would eventually come around, but it was
a relief when he finally did.

Charlie was tight-lipped about his night with
Beau. All he said was he had fun and hoped they would get together
again. I didn’t press him for details, but I did encourage him to
spend more time with his dad.

All I could do was cross my fingers and hope
they would continue to take steps to get to know each other.
Thankfully, I had a distraction to take my mind off this situation.
Stacy had flown in for her sister’s wedding and we were having
dinner at my house and then going out.

Knowing her, she would be dressed to the
nines and look amazing. I was determined to keep up and be more
adventurous in my style choices. So I put on a pink cocktail dress
I found buried in the back of my closet after I completed my exotic
make-up.

My eyes were dark and mysterious after
watching YouTube tutorials and consulting Emma, the smoky eye
queen. Normally, I was more organic in my makeup choices, but I
wanted something a little spicier for my evening out with
Stacy.

“You have to line the upper lid and under
your bottom lashes,” Emma instructed as I put my cell on
speakerphone and put it down on the bathroom sink counter.

“I do?” I asked as I held the black liner in
my hand and stared in the mirror at my upper lid. “How do I do
it?”