Secret Heir for Christmas & Tempted by the Bollywood Star
Autor
LaQuette
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44
One
“There you are?”
Stephan looked up to find his uncle, David Devereaux, taking the last step on the staircase on the opposite side of the foyer door. Although younger than Ace by just shy of a decade, he and Ace were almost identical. So much so, there used to be a time where Stephan had difficulty telling the two men apart when he was a child.
But now, without the shroud of sickness and pallor around him, the distinction between the two men was sharply emphasized.
“Hi, Uncle David” Stephan stepped in, closing the foyer door and trying to leave the November chill outside. He quickly hung up his coat in a nearby closet and then stepped into the waiting hug David had for him.
He was grown. Thirty-eight years grown to be exact, and he had not a shred of shame in the absolute comfort he felt in being embraced so lovingly by his uncle. With the exception of his mother—whose normal disposition was icy, if he were being nice, and downright mean if he was telling the truth—most everyone in his family was down for a good hug whenever, wherever they could share one.
And right now, in the midst of all they were dealing with, it was almost impossible not to pass each other without doling a handful out.
“How you doing, Unc?”
David’s eyes brightened and he cupped each side of Stephan’s face with a warm hand.
“My baby nephew is standing before me instead of being more than three thousand miles away on another continent, and my only brother is still here for me to hold and tell him I love him. Add to the fact that Amara and Lennox are about to give me my first great-grand, and there’s not much to complain about. Even if I wanted to.”
Stephan marveled at how a man who’d lived to see his late sixties could carry the “I won’t complain” motto around with such grace and humility. But even while losing his only brother, he still found a reason to hold on to joy.
Stephan closed his eyes, trying to soak up the love and warmth radiating from his uncle’s hands, permeating his skin, and filling him with the strength he needed, that they all needed at this moment in life.
“Uncle David, you trying to make me feel guilty about being in Paris. You know I was over there working, right?”
“I know, nephew.” David’s smile grew. “But I still missed seeing your face every day while you were there. If nothing else comes of Ace’s decline in health, at least it brought you home to us. I hope you’re considering staying for good now that you’re back.”
Stephan’s gut twisted into knots and the skin on his arms prickled with anxiety. Return for good? He hadn’t even intended to be here for this long. He didn’t regret coming home for Ace. There was no way he could’ve given up this time to spend Ace’s last days with him. But being home wasn’t a good thing for Stephan. Not when his mother’s bitterness dogged him, and not when his presence threatened the well-being of his sister-in-love, Lyric.
David stood there, hope lightening his deep brown eyes, and Stephan had no idea what to say. It wasn’t that he had a problem with being honest with his family members or telling them no. But David wasn’t a stupid man. He was thorough, methodical, and analytical. It’s why, until recently, he’d held the position of lead counsel for Devereaux Incorporated since the company’s inception. Whatever Stephan said, he had no doubts his uncle would turn his answer over in his head, that eventually, he’d figure out why Stephan had left in the first place.
Because my lies broke the family.
“Is that my brother-in-love?” The boulder of guilt lodged in Stephan’s gut shifted slightly.
Lyric Devereaux-Smith was his late brother Randall’s widow. While Randall had been twenty years Lyric’s senior, she was only a few years older than Stephan. This meant she’d fallen easily into their cousin group more than two decades ago.
“Come here, girl, and let me love on you.”
Lyric squealed the same way she did every time she saw him after any time apart. Whether it was two days or two years, she always delighted in his presence. It was just one of the multitude of reasons staying away from his family hurt so much. Yet, he knew the alternative would bear even greater pain. Not just for him, but especially for the gentle soul who had her arms wrapped around him as she peppered his face with kisses the way only a sister could.
“You staying long? Josiah and I were gonna leave to go get something to eat. But if you’re gonna be here for a bit, we can order in and hang with you”
He looked over Lyric’s shoulder to find her man sitting in the living room off to the side of the foyer. Josiah gave him a quick nod to acknowledge Stephan’s presence, followed by a light thumping of his fist over his heart.
Admittedly, he and Josiah didn’t know each other that well. But as long as his beloved Lyric kept that ridiculous smile on her face, Stephan had no objections to Josiah whatsoever.
Stephan loved Lyric.
She’d been more than Randall’s wife for two decades. She’d been his sister from the moment Randall had brought her home. He’d adored his big brother, but the love he had for Lyric and the way she’d made him feel wanted, cherished, and not a nuisance, as his mother and brother had, it meant there wasn’t much in this world Stephan wouldn’t do to keep her happy and safe. Something his brother and mother hadn’t been so concerned with.
“Nah,” Stephan replied. “I’m running behind for something I have to do anyway.”
He lied. There wasn’t a damn thing he had to do later. He just couldn’t stay in her presence. Not knowing what he’d done. Not knowing the harm he could still do if the truth ever crossed his lips.
“I just came to sit with Uncle Ace for a bit before I head out.”
He hugged her again, and by the time he released her, Josiah was behind her, extending one hand to Stephan as he wrapped the other around Lyric’s shoulder.
“Good to see you again, Stephan.”
“You make sure to take good care of my sister.”
“I always do, my man. I always do.”
Satisfied, he left his three family members standing in the foyer and made his way upstairs to Ace’s room. The door was large, sitting at the top of the stairs, looming, making it impossible for him to forget what lay on the other side of it.
He took a breath, as he always did since he’d returned home to find his uncle slowly succumbing to cancer’s hold. It was time to put on the mask. Time to find the joy and love he needed to impart to Ace.
The love part was easy. Ace had showered him with so much love growing up, he’d been a decidedly neutralizing effect on Martha’s acrid and detached demeanor.
But finding the joy right now, when he knew how Ace was suffering, when he knew how much it hurt to think of not having his uncle in his life anymore, that was the hard part.
One last breath in, then Stephan squared his shoulders and knocked lightly on the door before twisting the knob and slowly opening it.
There, in the center of the room was his uncle, Jordan Dylan Devereaux, I, aka Ace. His thin frame was covered with his signature silk pajamas. Today’s were a royal purple, a stark contrast to Ace’s pale brown skin. Regardless of how sickness dogged him, he sat in the middle of his bed, the perfect statesman, waiting for his next visitor to enter.
“There’s my favorite nephew.”
Stephan shook his head. “I win that prize because I’m your only one?”
Ace shook his head. “Not the only, just the only one...” Ace stopped as if he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Stephan didn’t blame him. Thinking of Randall in the past tense was still difficult for him too.
Ace looked to the large clock sitting on a far-off wall and brought a reprimanding gaze back to Stephan.
“It is well after dinnertime on a Friday night. Why are you not out and about doing what young people do?”
“Thirty-eight ain’t all that young, Uncle Ace. After work there are only two places I want to be—here with you, or in my bed asleep.”
The amount of pity in the old man’s eyes told Stephan exactly what he was thinking.
“You have life. Take it from an old fool who wasted too much of his, go out and live. Go meet new people. Go find love. And if you can’t find love, have a whole lot of fun practicing. Don’t waste any time on me.”
Stephan stepped closer to Ace’s bed, sitting slowly next to the spot the man had patted with his hand.
“There’s no place in this world I would rather be than here with you, old man. Why are you trying to run me off when I just got here?”
“Because I’ve lived my life, baby boy. I want you to do the same. I won’t be here for much longer.”
Stephan bristled at the truth in Ace’s words. “Uncle Ace, the last time I checked, God wasn’t one of your names. You’ve beat this thing longer than the six months the doctors originally gave you. Who’s to say you won’t continue to put cancer on its ass?”
Ace pointed a finger at himself as a weary smile hung on his mouth.
“I wouldn’t exactly call this beating cancer’s ass. I’m still here and I’m grateful for that. But I’m tired, Stephan, and the only reason I’m still here is because I haven’t yet fulfilled my promise to my dearest Alva. When I know in my heart that all our babies are all right, then, and only then will I take my leave. As it stands, you’re the only one left I need to look out for.”
Stephan snickered. Not that he found anything remotely funny about this situation. But he knew if he didn’t laugh, the ball of grief growing at the base of his throat would be too large to breathe around soon if he didn’t disrupt it.
“I don’t want to talk about this, Uncle Ace. It’s morbid. And if death wants you, he’s gotta go through me. And for the record, I’on think death’s really ready to catch these hands.”
Ace’s eyes lit up with amusement until laughter shook his frail frame. Stephan was sure it was the absurdity of the image of him literally coming to fisticuffs with the Grim Reaper that had Ace’s infirm voice sounding the slightest bit fuller and lighter, and he didn’t care. The joy illuminating Ace’s face was enough to fill Stephan’s heart with a lifetime of contentment.
Ace wiped the sides of his damp eyes while finally exacting some control over his amusement.
“While I would definitely pay money to see that brawl, I don’t think it’s one you will win.”
Ace reached for Stephan’s hand, giving it a squeeze.
“A foolish man wastes his time trying to run from death. A wise man embraces it and spends his time enjoying and appreciating every moment he’s granted.”
Stephan could definitely see the truth in Ace’s words. It didn’t mean it made his heart hurt any less, though.
“Stephan, I know that if I tell you not to worry yourself trying to take care of the rest of the Devereaux cousins, you’ll just ignore me. You’re very much like me in that respect. Taking care of those we love is instinctual. It’s encoded in our DNA.”
There was no need for Stephan to deny the veracity of Ace’s claim. The fact was, he’d hightailed it on the first thing smoking back to the States as soon as he’d heard Ace’s condition wasn’t as stable as the old man had led him to believe. If that wasn’t proof that he had helicopter parent written in his future, Stephan didn’t know what was.
“You can’t stop loving your people, Stephan. But if you’re going to pour so much into them, suffer so much for them, you must have someone to pour into you so that beautiful light of yours doesn’t go dim.”
Ace’s words were precise, cleaving his heart in two like a heated scalpel cutting clean through his flesh.
“All of the Devereaux cousins will have a role to play in this family once I’m gone. You’re all gonna try to give your all to cover up your broken hearts. Which means all of you will need a rudder to help you navigate. Your cousins have that, Stephan. If you don’t find something or someone to hold you together soon, I’m afraid you will destroy that big beautiful heart of yours. And we both know that if you fall, you have secrets that could tear this family apart.”
Stephan stood up, walking to the window. It was almost winter, so the sun had disappeared into the horizon long ago leaving behind a midnight blue sky, whose inky hue felt like a replica of the darkness floating around in his soul.
“Are you asking me to keep those secrets to the detriment of myself?”
“No.” Ace’s response was clear, even in his frail state. “I would never ask that of you. I’ve begged you to let me set you free of these secrets for a long time. I never agreed with you having to swallow all of this down. You were so busy protecting everyone else, you wouldn’t even take time to mourn the brother you’d lost.”
Stephan shoved his hands into his slacks, his heart beating in his chest and his emotions welling up so fast that he was afraid he’d shatter into pieces right there.
He’d mourned his brother.
Every day of the last two years. Even more so when he was away from his family in Paris, paying penance for the secrets he held to protect those he loved the most. He hadn’t stopped grieving as far as he was concerned.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Uncle Ace.”
“I want you to give yourself permission to be free so you can open your heart up again and let love in.”
“There’s no room for anything but this weight that my brother forced me to carry. You know that, Uncle Ace.”
“Come here, baby boy.”
There was nothing like the elders in your life reminding you that no matter how grown you got, you’d never be more of an adult than them.
He’d like to say he hated it. Well, he certainly hated it whenever his mother tried to pull rank like that. But when Ace did it, it always seemed so loving that Stephan could never find even a sliver of anger to toss at Ace.
He returned to Ace’s bedside, lowering himself on the mattress and waiting for his uncle to speak again.
“Let me take this burden to the grave with me, Stephan. I should never have allowed you to take it up in the first place. You were hurting so much, and you insisted this was the only way. But if I’d known it would take you from me, I never would’ve gone along with it. Please, let me take this from you.”
Stephan could feel the fire of pain filling him. His entire body tensed, trying to cage it all in.
“I can’t do that, uncle.”
Ace’s smile was sad, his mouth slightly drooping as he took in the picture of Stephan.
“I somehow knew that would be your answer. So, here’s my counter.”
Ace held up two fingers as he looked Stephan directly in the eye. “I have two conditions.” Even in his current state with his body appearing so thin and feeble, a light breeze could probably topple him over, Ace was still the ultimate businessman. He’d wheeled and dealed, until he’d made his company a household brand and his name a bright star in the sky. Stephan should’ve known that dying of cancer wouldn’t be the thing to deter the man’s command and spirit.
“I cannot have you sitting here waiting for me to die. If you won’t let me lift this from your shoulders, then I want to see you spend a little time every day finding joy outside of this family, outside of our business, and outside of me.”
Stephan tilted his head, watching Ace, trying to suss out exactly what Ace was playing at.
“So, you’re saying I can’t come visit you?”
“No.” Ace chuckled and shook his head as if to say, this simple boy. “I’m saying that when you do, I want you to share verifiable proof that you are out there living and experiencing life.”
“What the hell does that mean, Uncle Ace. How am I supposed to prove that I’m living life?”
Much like when Stephan was a child and Ace had given him a directive, the man simply sat back, raised a brow, and dared Stephan to say another word. In Ace’s generation, grown folks didn’t explain themselves to the younger generations. Apparently that dynamic hadn’t changed even now when Stephan was nearing forty.
He took a deep breath, realizing being ticked off with a dying man probably wasn’t going to gain him any brownie points in the karma department.
“What’s the next condition?”
Satisfied with Stephan’s acceptance of the situation, Ace continued.
“I want to experience joy myself. And as time slips away from me, my mind keeps drifting back to those wonderful Christmas parties we used to have. You remember them, don’t you?”
He certainly did. Every year, Ace would go all out hiring the party planner de jour to turn Borough Hall into a Christmas delight. Devereauxs from all over the globe would gather and literally eat, drink, and be merry throughout the night until the wee hours of the morning.
Those parties, more like galas, were the high point of the year, and Stephan had always looked forward to them. Until two years ago. Randall’s passing, and Stephan’s departure immediately after the funeral, had seemed to erase Ace’s drive to put it all together.
“Your Aunt Alva began the tradition when we married. I kept it going after she died to keep her close to my heart. I want to experience one last Devereaux Christmas and I want you to plan it for me. This way, you’ll know how to carry on the torch when I’m gone.”
“Uncle Ace. I don’t think anyone in the family is up for a party right now, least of all you.”
“I am still the patriarch of our family, and my word is still law as far as our bloodline is concerned. You will do these things I have asked, or I will set you free of your burden whether you want to be free or not. What say you, young man?”
Ace squared his shoulders as best he could, daring Stephan to challenge him again. The old man’s ability to control the room, even from his deathbed, was unmatched and Stephan knew he was outranked immediately.
He scratched his hand lightly against his beard pretending consideration of his imaginary options. They both knew he was caught and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Not if he wanted to protect his sister-in-love, and even though she deserved it least of all, his mother.
“I guess it’s a good thing mistletoe is in season. Seems I’m going to need a lot of it.”
