The Broken One (Corisi Billionaires, #1)(61)

“My only regret?” Rakesh’s father looked at him. “Not a single prospect for grandchildren in sight. The doctor keeps telling me my days are numbered, but I’m not going anywhere until I look into the eyes of our next generation.”

Love for his father shone in Rakesh’s eyes. “Then you’ll be with us a long time.”

“One grandchild.” His father looked to mine and waved a hand in the air. “Is that too much to ask?”

“From your mouth to God’s ears,” my father said. “Four sons and not one grandchild so far.”

“I have two, and they both say they have no time for a wife. No time? What else is worth a man’s time?” He covered his mouth with a handkerchief as he coughed. “I told Rakesh he should go back to see that sweet accountant woman he met a while ago. He needs a smart woman to keep him in check.”

My eyebrows rose, and my shoulders flexed. I’d almost forgotten that he’d met with Heather.

“Dad, please.” Rakesh looked almost as uncomfortable as I wanted to make him feel.

My eyes narrowed. “The woman I’m seeing is a tax accountant.”

My father scoffed. “Seeing? He says that, but has he brought her home for us to meet? No. If it’s the same woman, your son should go see her again; perhaps that would light a fire beneath the dragging feet of my son.”

Rakesh held my gaze and shook his head. “I’d never do that.”

“Good.” I nodded, and as my father continued to lament on my reluctance to bring Heather to Sunday dinner, Rakesh and I commiserated with a look. One day, who knew, we might be friends. For now it was good enough that we respected each other.

As the conversation turned to our siblings, my mind wandered. I thought about the name my father had given me and decided I’d been correct to not look further into it. I had to believe my father’s assessment of Gian’s mother. If Gian ever asked me to, I would help him find her, but whatever had happened back in Italy was probably best left there.

I needed to keep moving forward.

Heather.

I did want the family to meet her, but I also didn’t want to rush her. We saw each other or spoke every day. Her voice was the last I heard before I fell asleep each night and often the first I heard in the morning. She’d put Ava to bed, then call me. In the morning, she’d reconnect as she drove from Ava’s preschool to work.

Depending on how our schedules were, we’d meet for lunch. Sometimes we ate at her office, sometimes at the house with the elevator.

I now had a deep appreciation for some of the idiosyncrasies of that house. I’d once considered the tropical island–themed interior pool tacky. Fake palm trees, a sloping sandy beach, and an island with a tiki bar in the middle of the pool. Why would anyone think a house needed such a pool? The cost of maintenance alone was substantial. My opinion changed, though, after Heather and I spent a naked afternoon frolicking in the water and fucking on that island. That was all it had taken to convince me that every house needed a pool like that.

And an adult game room. With the same dedication as they’d covered every inch of the walls of their Disney room, the family had adorned another room with Kama Sutra artwork. Everywhere one looked there was a statue of a couple or a series of paintings depicting some sex act in graphic detail. I thought I was pretty savvy sexually, but touring that room with Heather was educational as well as inspirational for both of us. We’d spent more than one lunch reenacting the artwork. One time with mind-blowing results. Another left us laughing and wondering if that position was physically possible for anyone.

Friends as well as lovers, I was beyond being able to imagine my life without her in it. My father was right, it was time to introduce her to the family.

My phone buzzed, and I realized everyone was looking at me.

My father snapped his fingers. “He’s been in a daze since he met this woman. Sebastian, answer your phone.”

“Of course.” I stepped out of the room to answer it when I saw Heather was the caller. She never called me midafternoon. “Are you okay? Is it Ava?”

“We’re both fine. I’m sorry, I know you’re busy. I should have waited until tonight.”

“Heather, stop, you can always call me—always.”

She let out an audible breath, and my heart started pounding in my chest. She sounded worried. Nothing would keep me from her side if she needed me.

“My father called. He’ll be in the area this weekend. Cheshire has a strawberry festival. I told him we’d meet him there. Then I started to freak out as I thought about all the ways I could do this badly. I don’t want to rehash the past. I want him to see how amazing Ava is and for him to be the grandfather I know he can be. Was the festival a bad choice? Should I have chosen somewhere quieter? Should I meet with him first, talk everything out, or just plow ahead? I need to do this right.”

“You will. Stop second-guessing yourself. Meeting at a festival sounds like a stress-free way to introduce them and a nice memory for both.”

“Can you come with us?” she asked in a rush, and I swayed on my feet.

My immediate impulse to say yes was tempered by my desire to move forward in a way that was best for everyone. “You want me to meet Ava for the first time on the same day she meets your father?”

She went quiet for a moment. “I didn’t think of that. Are you free for dinner tonight? I know this is last minute, so if you can’t make it, it’s okay. I didn’t think seeing my father again would be so hard for me, but I’m freaking out a little.”