Five
Bullshit.
MJ stood listening at the library window. Listening and seething.
“Kids’ play my ass,” he muttered. She was afraid. He didn’t know why, but he’d make her face her fear.
There was no way she could ever find an adult relationship even close to as all-consuming and mind-blowing as what she had with him.
No f*cking way.
He’d let her stay away for too long. Now she had these crazy-ass thoughts in her head.
But that was about to change.
Maddie was his.
Always had been. Always would be.
“I need to get inside,” Rachael said. “Enzo wanted to meet with me and MJ about something.”
The two women stood and MJ stepped away from the window. He ran his hands through his hair in a futile attempt to get his mind off of Maddie before it got screwed over by the Old Man. He’d yet to go to a meeting with Enzo that didn’t leave his head f*cked six ways to Sunday.
The one thing he knew for certain was that he could never trust the Old Man to tell him the truth. He took nothing his grandfather said at face value. There was always an ulterior motive lurking under his tongue with every word he spoke.
Sitting beside Rachael in the black leather chairs in front of his grandfather’s desk, MJ twirled the silky hair stuck in his watchband around his finger. His mind raced. He had to get out of this office and get to Maddie.
He knew he was in a riptide being pulled under while he fought to get back to shore and keep his footing. With her, it was a competition to see who would drown the other faster. He wouldn’t lose this time.
She would always be what he wanted. If she was near, he’d want to hear her laugh, watch her full lips quirk into that slightly off-center smile, be the one to put that hazy, needful look in her eyes when he kissed her.
“Do you understand what I’m telling you?” His grandfather pounded on his desk.
MJ hadn’t heard one word the Old Man had said. “I understand.”
“It’s not your fault your father doesn’t want to see you. He’s always felt guilty about Gina’s death. He thought you died, too. I’m sure he’s carried an enormous burden. You’d be nothing to him but a reminder.”
Rachael shot forward in her chair. “Your mother’s dead? Merrick knew there was a baby, but thought you’d died?”
MJ could only stare at her. “He didn’t tell you?”
His grandfather let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Of course he didn’t tell her. My son is nothing if not self-gratifying. He’d never tell the truth if it could be avoided.”
Rachael’s eyes met MJ’s. “He gave the impression… I didn’t think he knew about you at all. How did your mother die?”
MJ felt his mouth open, but no words would come out.
“In childbirth,” his grandfather said, filling in the blank. “My son took the news hard, blaming himself for her death and the baby’s.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Rachael said, shifting nervously in her chair. “How could he think it was his fault?”
MJ felt the words form like a ball of fire and erupt from his throat. “He didn’t keep his dick in his pants and knocked her up. If he would’ve, she’d be alive.”
“And you wouldn’t be here!” Rachael’s eyes blazed. Her nostrils flared. Her hands gripped the armrests like she was afraid if she let go she’d strangle him. “What happened between them was as much your mom’s doing as it was Merrick’s. It was consensual!”
“Was it?” his grandfather said, steepling his fingers and cocking an eyebrow.
“What?” Rachael’s eyes widened, and she eased back in her chair. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” his grandfather stood and came around to lean against the front of his desk, “that I spent an enormous sum of money to keep a family quiet. Gina was never forthcoming about the details.”
“But what did your son say?” Rachael’s face was void of color. Even her lips were faded to a dull pink. “Did you even ask him?”
MJ’s grandfather grinned, but his eyes remained hard and humorless. “A pubescent boy who needed the comfort of a woman after the loss of his mother isn’t someone you trust to tell the truth.”
“You trust your son to tell the truth.” Her voice was cracked ice, smooth and cold with jagged edges.
Enzo threw his hands in the air. “Either way. She’s dead. My son has taken the burden of her death on his shoulders for twenty years.” His eyes shifted to MJ. “I’m sorry. I thought maybe if he knew you were alive, he’d come to terms with it.” A smile slinked across his lips. “He still might. But if not, I’ve made certain that your future is secure.”
All business again, MJ’s grandfather hustled back around to his desk chair, sat and perched his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Rachael, I wanted you here to witness this so my son will know I haven’t stolen his fortune out from under him for no good reason.” He tapped a file folder and turned his eyes on MJ. “Merrick Enzo Rocha, Junior, I’m offering you full control of Rocha Enterprises upon your twenty-second birthday. If you graduate college, and after you graduate you’re able to successfully manage as the company’s president, all properties and holdings will be signed over to you.”
The use of his full name was something MJ had never heard uttered by his grandfather—or anyone else for that matter. He figured it was being used now to convince him of the sincerity of his grandfather’s offer.
It didn’t work.
Everything in Enzo Rocha’s world came with strings attached.
“Well?” the Old Man said, flicking his thumbs, questioning a response.
MJ figured it was best to go all-in at this point and try to pry out his grandfather’s true motives. “What if I don’t want it?”
The Old Man threw his head back and howled with laughter. He tugged his glasses off by one arm and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “What if you don’t want it.” He chuckled some more. “That’s priceless, MJ. Priceless. What else do you plan to do with your life? MMA fighter perhaps?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” He was more cut out to be an MMA fighter than the president of Rocha Enterprises.
“What’s your definition of successfully managing the company?” Rachael asked, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs.
MJ realized he’d pegged her right. She was someone who would go right for the kill every time. He bit back the urge to tell her to mind her own business. It was the question he’d been circling in his mind.
Enzo flatted his palms on the file folder and spread his fingers. “I’m a fair man, Rachael. MJ and I will do a full evaluation of each property and determine goals we mutually agree upon.”
“I’m sure you will,” she said. She shot Enzo a shrewd look. “Who will train him? You haven’t been running Rocha Enterprises.”
The Old Man licked his lips and steepled his fingers again. “Are you suggesting your boyfriend train him? If you find him, you can ask him of course, but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”
MJ watched Rachael’s chin jut forward. She’d soon learn obstinacy didn’t get you anywhere with his grandfather. You couldn’t affect someone who didn’t give a shit.
“I’ll let you know,” MJ said. “I need to think about it.”
The corner of his grandfather’s mouth twitched. “While you’re thinking about it, think about finding a permanent residence somewhere near. A corporate president doesn’t live with his granddad.”
Granddad? MJ had never once called him that. And the permanent residence was just a way to get him out of this house under the guise of looking and acting like a corporate president. He’d never been welcome here, and the Old Man couldn’t send him away to boarding school anymore.
Not that it mattered. MJ didn’t want to be here anymore than his grandfather wanted him to be. He should’ve found a lease that went through the summer.
MJ stood and smoothed the legs of his jeans. “That it?”
“That’s it.” His grandfather pushed his chair out from the desk.
“Wait.” Rachael stood and stepped up to Enzo’s desk. “Why now? After twenty years, why tell Merrick about him now?”
Enzo braced both hands on his desk. “As I said, I spent a lot of money keeping Gina’s family quiet. They agreed on one condition: Keeping Merrick out of MJ’s life. Once he was eighteen though it was out of my hands. MJ’s a man, as is his father, and men need to deal with the truth. I should’ve told him two years ago.”
MJ studied Rachael’s face. She wasn’t buying it. Good for her. It was all bullshit. Everything out of Enzo Rocha’s mouth was bullshit, MJ had learned that early on.
Rachael lifted her chin slightly higher and let her stony stare linger on Enzo for a moment longer. “Your son is nothing that you make him out to be,” she said, and strode out of the office ahead of MJ.
He caught up with her in the hallway. “Hey, don’t worry about any of that. I’ve known him long enough to not become one of his minions.”
Rachael’s gaze darted over his shoulder to the closed office door at the end of the hall. “Minion, huh? What do you think he has up his sleeve?”
MJ glanced behind him. Within the Old Man’s earshot was not the place to discuss Enzo’s motives. He took her by the elbow, led her through the house and out the back door to the patio. “I think you and I both know there’s no chance of me successfully managing Rocha Enterprises. Even if there were, I don’t want it. When I fail, he’s free to own everything with a clear conscience and not look like the bad guy. Keeping up appearances is as vital as air to the Old Man.”
Rachael shot one hip out and tapped her foot. “So, this is all a ploy to keep control of the company himself. I see.” She yanked her cell phone out of her pocket and started jabbing buttons sending a text message. “He better get his ass here,” she muttered.
“My… Merrick?” MJ couldn’t bring himself to say dad.
“Yes. I can’t fight this battle by myself. He needs to face this. And why wouldn’t he tell me your mother was dead and he thought you were too? God, that man!” She shook her head and poked the SEND button. “I’m sorry, by the way,” she said, looking up at him, “about your mom.”
He smiled, wanting to put her at ease. “It’s okay. I never knew her.”
She eased her phone back into her pocket and crossed her arms appraising him. “What do you want to do if not run Rocha Enterprises?”
His throat burned knowing he’d have to admit he was a total f*ckup, and he ran his hands through the back of his hair. “I did want to be a scout for probaseball.”
“Not anymore?” She rocked from foot to foot.
“I don’t think it’s an option for me at this point.” Getting kicked off the team was probably not a step in the direction of his dreams. No pro team would touch a guy who wasn’t a team player on and off the field.
Rachael tilted her head. “What are you going to do then?”
He chuckled. She was unbelievable. Why couldn’t she let it go? “It’s undetermined.”
He noticed her hand press against the phone in her pocket, as if anticipating a return message from his dad. What kind of a*shole lets his girlfriend walk into this f*cked-up mess and disappear when she needs him most? “You deserve better,” he said, nodding to her pocket.
She shook her head. “It’s fine. I can handle him.” Her phone chimed as if on cue. Her face lit. “See?” She tugged her phone out of her pocket, and MJ watched her lips move as she read. “He says he’s taking care of some business that has to do with you.” She shoved her phone back in her pocket. “Once you understand him, you’ll realize he has to circle a problem for a while before he rushes in and tackles it. Then watch out.”
“All hell breaks loose?” MJ fought the curiosity to ask her more about Merrick. He didn’t want to know anything more about a man he might never meet.
Rachael smirked. “Yeah, all hell frequently breaks loose when Merrick’s involved.”
She might be the most loyal person MJ had ever met. Or blinded by love. All of the fire and fight and stubbornness inside her reminded him of Maddie.
Except Maddie hadn’t fought for him.
Maddie had left him.