I didn't know all the reasons for his devastation at the time. It was more than just Leah leaving him hanging at the altar. Worse than that, I would discover in time.
I couldn't have known all of the machinations that went on behind the scenes in our world when I was barely nineteen years old, but I'd learned enough to know a lot of it wasn't nice.
Despicable was a much better adjective.
James had been twenty-seven when he found out there were many secret deals and plenty of depravity in plain sight if you knew where to look.
I think the discovery of just how depraved was part of my interest in choosing social work at Boston University. I wanted to live my life differently than the people in my "social" circle. I didn't desire to be impoverished, but I didn't desire to waste my money on frivolous excess either. I wanted to use it to help make a difference for people who desperately needed someone to care, and had no one.
No one at all.
After his wedding-that-didn't-happen, I heard that James stayed drunk for about a month before pulling himself back together. With fierce resolve to overcome the betrayal of those who'd done him wrong, a mask descended over his handsome face. James lost his carefree manner and the easy smile he'd always had for others, and most importantly, in my mind, for me. He became more closed off, and far less engaging after Leah worked him over.
I missed the old James terribly at first, but I didn't have many encounters with him during the years I was an undergrad at BU. I was busy being a student, and James was busy separating himself from his father's firm. There was drama over that decision at the time. I remember my parents discussing it, but in the end, James made his own stamp in the legal community, establishing himself as the go-to guy for contract law in New England. James R. Blakney & Associates, P.C. was retained by my dad for Blackstone Global Enterprises as soon as James had set up on his own. Nothing had changed with Caleb heading up BGE since Dad's death. In fact, James probated his will—a complicated undertaking for anyone faced with settling the billion-dollar personal fortune our father left to us—and he handled it without a blip. On top of being a close family friend, James knew the conditions of my trust fund. He knew what was required for me to gain access to it before my thirtieth birthday, too. He was the one who'd explained it to my sister and me at the reading of the will. Lucas and Wyatt had nothing to worry about given they were twenty-nine when Dad passed away.
It's fair to say I hated Leah. Not so much for being with James in the first place, but for wounding him and leaving him a changed man. For that reason, she was on my unforgivable sinners' list. Because I was not confident he was as capable of forgiveness and goodwill toward people who grieved him as he might have been in the past. Which was what worried me the most, because now I've done something to hurt James. Something that could make him hate me, even though it would kill me inside if he did.
I stole from him.
I took advantage of James in a weak moment. I knew it was wrong, and yet I didn't care as I crossed over a dangerous line with him. I indulged nearly a decade's worth of craving to experience the magic of being loved by James Blakney. Loved? Probably more like fucked. It was done lovingly, so I didn't care. Carelessness indeed. I knew the risks and took my chances anyway.
Still, it was so very wrong of me to let it happen, because the circumstances were too close to how Leah betrayed him. My betrayal was even worse, because the ripple effects would be felt by many.
And now?
I'd have to face up to the consequences of what I did.
To James.
To us.
To our unborn child.
Chapter One
JAMES
Three months earlier.
Boston
There was one reason and one reason only why I was at my father's law office today. The woman who birthed me. My mother asked me to see him, so I agreed, even though I'd rather take a swim in the Charles River. That I would prefer immersing myself into a polluted-as-fuck body of water to meeting with my dad, spoke volumes.
The truth? I loved my mother, but I couldn't say the same about my father. Harsh as it was to acknowledge, pragmatism told me I wasn't the first son to feel this way about a parent. History was filled with examples.
I dreaded this meeting because I knew whatever message he wanted to deliver to me personally wasn't anything I'd want to hear. Nothing he ever imparted was good news, but this felt like walking into an ambush. To say we had a stiff relationship was a polite way of describing it. I kept myself guarded because I had to. If your father sat on the First Circuit Court of Appeals that would probably do it for most people. The fact I practiced law in the same city as him required the appearance of family solidarity even if there was none. I had a fuck-ton of valid reasons for feeling the way I did.
Even though I'd been in his presence at family dinners and holiday occasions, I hadn't been in his office since the day I left it five years ago. The feelings of anger and disgust simmered below the surface where I'd forced them to stay. After this, I'd need a release to bring me back down to level. I knew where I'd be heading tonight. Annnnnd wasn't the irony just fucking beautiful considering where I was right now?
"He's ready for you, James." Patricia's smile held a touch of sympathy. She probably knew the reason for my summons. My father, the judge, only hired the best, and every lawyer with half a brain understood a smooth running office existed in direct correlation to the skills of his or her legal secretary.
"Thanks. Oh, before I forget, tell Chase to get in touch with Marguerite at my offices if he's interested in an internship." Patricia's oldest son was a first year law student at Suffolk and probably a smart kid if he was anything like his mom.
"Oh, that's so kind. I know Chase will jump at the opportunity, James." She smiled with genuine thanks before leading me into my father's inner sanctum.
He tracked me with his eyes as I entered the room. I had to work fucking hard to keep a lid on my emotions and remain impassive. I was on enemy turf for as long as this meeting lasted. I thought of my mother, and that helped to keep my feet planted. If not for her request, I'd be out the fucking door and back on the street where I could breathe again.
"Sit down, son."
I settled into one of his soft leather chairs and leaned back with an expression of relaxed comfort. An acting performance that should probably earn me an Academy Award because in reality, it felt like I was being ass-fucked on a bed of nails. I would probably walk out of here feeling the same way when this meeting was over.
"Thank you for coming today. I realize your mother had to persuade you."
I kept my eyes forward and ignored the calculated barb. "How is she?" I deflected by asking him a question.
"Your mother is very well as she always is." Undoubtedly he was lying, but I'd learned long ago that my parents' relationship was not my battle to fight. "I've asked you for a private meeting to share my news. You need to know what's coming."
I said nothing. There wasn't a thing on earth that could've compelled me to ask him for the information. I wasn't able to pretend that much with my father. All my energy was taken up by being present in the first place. I knew my silent disinterest rankled him. And I fucking loved that it did.
"Ted Robinson's recent cancer diagnosis has ended his political career."
"You know what they say about karma," I answered. All I could envision was the darkly beautiful goddess that was karma swooping in for her well-deserved due, because Ted Robinson shared space on the same list with my dad. Cut from exactly the same cloth. "Besides, he has Mrs. Robinson to care for his every need now, so he can certainly take some comfort in that."