Miranda was gone, he opened the envelope. It held a scrapbook overflowing with photos and newspaper articles. On the first page, there was a photo of a newborn he recognized as himself. A duplicate was in his mother’s prized photo album.
Darius made his way through the scrapbook one aged photo, yellowed newspaper clipping and dog-eared magazine article at a time.
The man had been following his childhood, his academic career and his business triumphs. Yet, he hadn’t reached out to him once in thirty years.
What am I supposed to feel for a man like that?
Darius dropped the scrapbook onto the desk, slipped his Prada shades back on and met Miranda’s driver, Leslie, at the car.
“Where shall I take you, sir?” She opened the door. “Back to the airport or to your rental home?”
Darius slid into the back seat. “Neither. Take me someplace I can get a decent hamburger, fries and shake, please.”
He wasn’t sure what he’d do next. He only knew that he thought better on a full stomach, and he longed for the comfort of carbs while he plotted his next move.
Darius stepped inside the quaint little Royal Diner. The place looked like a throwback from the fifties, with its red faux-leather booths and black-and-white checkerboard linoleum tile floor.
He ordered a mile-high bacon cheeseburger, wedge fries and a thick, handmade strawberry shake. The same meal he’d ordered when his mother and Will would take him out to eat after a big win or a devastating loss.
It was still his go-to meal for either.
And today he found himself thinking of his mother and stepfather more than he had in months.
He was furious that his mother hadn’t told him Buckley Blackwood was his biological father. But part of him missed the great hugs his mom gave whenever he’d had a bad day. And the corny jokes Will would tell to lift his spirits.
But then, they hadn’t distanced themselves from him. He’d pulled away from them because they’d been lying to him his entire life.
Buckley Blackwood was just another lying parent who only revealed the truth when it was convenient. Darius already had a bookend set of those.
He should feel badly that he’d never meet his biological father. But the only thing he felt toward Blackwood was resentment. The man could’ve picked up the telephone or flown his private plane to reach him at any point in the past thirty years.
He’d chosen not to. Not even when he was dying and knew he had only weeks to live. Instead, he’d apparently spent the end of his life concocting this manipulative scheme.
But to what end?
Amanda Battle, the woman who’d introduced herself as the owner of the little diner, brought him his meal and shake. He nibbled on one of the fries, dipping it into the ketchup he’d poured on his plate.
Darius had spent the past twelve years musing about his mysterious biological father. Right now, he wanted to hate the man. But the scrapbook Miranda had given him didn’t correspond with the heartless man he’d imagined.
It wasn’t just that the old man had been collecting photos, news clippings and such about Darius his entire life. The photos showed signs of frequent handling. The dog-eared magazine articles appeared to have been read repeatedly. It was the kind of scrapbook he’d expect from a parent who actually gave a damn about his kid.
He sighed, nibbling on more fries. The two sides of the man who was likely his father were incongruent, at best. But clipping out a few magazine articles didn’t excuse Blackwood for being a shitty, absent father.
For that, he would never forgive him.
Darius took another of the wedge fries, swiped it in the milkshake and popped it in his mouth.
It was something people over the age of twelve usually found repulsive. But today, he deserved to indulge himself.
“A bacon cheeseburger, fries and a strawberry shake. I was going to ask if it was a really good day or a really bad one, but then you dipped your fry into your shake, so I guess that answers that.”
Darius froze, then turned toward the familiar voice. His eyes widened.
“Audra Lee Covington?”
No, it isn’t possible.
What would his grad school girlfriend be doing in Royal, Texas?
“So you do remember me.” She folded her arms. “I wasn’t sure you would. After all, you never returned my calls.”
Remember? He couldn’t forget her if he tried. She’d been his biggest regret. The woman who still haunted his dreams.
He stared at her, blinking. Still not sure he could believe his eyes.
She was stunning, as always. Her dark wavy hair was tucked behind her ears and fell to her shoulders. Gold-and-diamond starburst ear climbers decorated the outer curve of each ear. She wore a cream-colored, chunky-knit sweater and distressed skinny jeans that hugged every curve. And there was a small, star-shaped diamond stud in one nostril.
“Audra.” He stood, wiping his hands on a napkin. He inhaled her sweet scent as they shared an awkward hug. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Good to see you, too,” she said sarcastically as she stepped away, folding her arms again. Her lips pressed into a harsh line as she narrowed her gaze at him.
If looks could kill, he’d be laid out on the black-and-white tile floor with a chalk line around him.
“It’s good to see you, Audra, of course. I should’ve said I’m stunned to see you here in Royal, Texas.” He gestured toward the opposite side of the booth. “You look…amazing.” It was an egregious understatement. She was drop-dead gorgeous. “Join me?”
Audra’s sensual lips, shiny with lip gloss, quirked in a semi-frown as she studied him. Finally, she nodded and slid across from him in the booth.
“The new look—” she indicated his bald head, a look he’d transitioned to nearly three years ago “—I like it. It suits you.”
“Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “What did you order?”
“They make an incredible Cobb salad. It probably has as many calories as your burger and fries, but at least I feel like I’m making an effort.”
He’d always loved her refreshing honesty. Too bad he hadn’t afforded her the same. Their story still would’ve ended. But if he’d been honest with her then, at least he’d have no regrets where Audra was concerned.
“LA Fashion Week is just a few weeks away. I’d expect the great Audra Lee Covington to be in the design studio right now.”
Audra was a diamond heiress. She’d broken rank with her very traditional family and formed her own company that catered to a younger, trendier clientele. Her name got frequent mentions in fashion magazines when A-list actors, musicians and social influencers bragged that they were iced in Audra Lee Covington diamond earrings, necklaces, bracelets and tiaras.
“Royal isn’t my usual hangout. That’s for sure.” A deep smile lit Audra’s rich espresso-brown eyes, the same color as her shoulder-length hair. “I got an early start on the season this year. So when I received a lucrative request from a wealthy bride-to-be here in Royal, I couldn’t resist. I’m creating custom wedding jewelry for the couple and gifts for their bridal party. So I’m staying in town for a bit. Getting to know the area and the bride, who will be returning from New York tomorrow with her fiancé. I’d hardly expect to run into you here, either.” She clasped