Page 41 of The Marriage Agreement
“That’s rich coming from the woman who made his father and brother think I had raped her.”
“That’s not—
“Really? How would you have interpreted your silence when asked did he hurt you?”
I was too scared. I don’t think he would take that as an answer. Everything happened so fast that morning. If there’s one thing I would do over again, it is that night. I should have said something. He’s right, but he didn’t know my father. His obsession with status and progeny. Nothing less than an old money blue blood would satisfy him. He never saw me as a daughter, but as a horse he could trade to improve his status among this town’s elite.
“I’m sorry.”
Damien does not react to my apology. Instead, he says, “I want Luke’s name changed to Sinclair.”
Chapter 16
Ivy
After Nolan visited Damien’s place, whatever truce Damien and I forged in Paris was gone. Damien and I barely spoke to each other as he prepared for the takeover of Hawthorne Inc. And now that the takeover is in the news and my role in it, that doesn’t make things any easier. People from my long-ago are calling me out of the blue, curiously enquiring while pretending to catch up. My only escape is Antoinette’s and Lake. I have taken to bringing him along to work, to the delight of everyone. Sonya especially enjoys spending time with him and teaching an eager Lake her recipes. ‘Sous Chef Lake,’ she called him.
Lake’s with her now as they make the afternoon batch of croissants together. It’s Sonya’s secret recipe she never shares with anyone so prefers to make them herself. Well, a secret to everyone but Lake. Two trays are already out of the oven and cooling on a rack when I return to the kitchen two hours later. Everyone is busy doing prep at their stations and few notice my entrance. Sonya and Lake have their backs to me and Lake is standing on top of a stool so he can reach the counter. Unable to resist, I pick one pastry and take a bite. The croissant melts into my mouth as I chew. It’s a heavenly blend of bread, cinnamon, and sugar that hits the right spot. No wonder she got a Michelin star. “These are coming out okay,” I say. The sound of knives hitting boards and the clanking of pots and pans drowns myvoice but, Sonya and Lake both turn and smile and go back to shaping dough.
Lake looks disappointed with my review. He shakes his head from atop his stool. “Understatement of the century.”
I chuckle. “Oh no. I thought you were teaching my child cooking. Now he talks like you.”
Sonya lightly bumps against Lake’s side. “Tell her that we like to tell it like it is.”
Lake shrugs as he presses a piece of dough under a rolling pin. “We like to tell it like it is.”
I raise my hands in mock surrender. “Hey. I want no fight. I like them.”
Lake shakes his head again. I turn to Sonya. “Will you be done by one?” I ask Sonya. “I need to take Lake back h…” I almost say home before stopping myself. Damien’s place never was or will be my home.
Lake looks at me with pleading eyes. “I can stay here. I won’t be a problem.”
Although I want him to, I won't give Damien an excuse to call me a negligent mother just because I let Lake stay at my place of work without me present. “I know, but I won’t be able to pick you up when the shop closes.”
“Sonya can take me home.” Home Lake called Damien’s place home. He looks up at Sonya with the same begging eyes. She casts a weary glance at me and sees my worry. “Is the vote today?” she asks. I nod. She smiles at Lake. “I’m going on a date tonight hon, so I have to get off early, Sous Chef.” Lake’s shoulders deflate. Sonya brushes away the flour on Lake’s cheek. “You can take these back home.” She puts three croissants into a paper wrap. “You made them after all.”
Lake’s eyes widen. “Thank you!”
“Now go wash your face in the bathroom before we go,” I say. He nods enthusiastically and rushes out of the kitchen. Sonyadrops the dough she was holding and brushes her hands on her apron. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You know what I am referring to.”
“And I said, everything is fine.”
She bends her head to the side. “Come on. You’ve moved in with your baby daddy, who’s currently trying to take over your family business and you’re looking for a family lawyer. That’s not how I would define fine. “
I look around the kitchen, but everyone is busy working. “I never said he’s Lake’s father.”
“Lake said Damien Sinclair is his father without saying a word. That face alone is a self-report. So, is he suing you or what?”
“No. Not yet, at least. I don’t know. It’s all… complicated. I just want to be prepared when shit hits the fan.”
“You know,” Sonya looks around, leans in, and whispers, “You can always come to me if you need help. It sounds moot saying that to an heiress, but I know a couple of busboys who can beat up a man without it leading back to you.”
I think of the bodyguards Damien has around him sometimes. They look like they did dark Black Ops shit in the Middle East. I doubt anyone Sonya knows could harm a single hair on Damien’s head. “Thanks. I will keep your number.”
