Enchant Me by J. Kenner

14

“I can’t believe you did this to me again,” I tell Jamie, as some dude in cowboy chaps and very little else grinds in front of me.

“Oh, admit it,” Jamie says. “You love it.”

I lean back, then turn sideways, trying to appear stern though in truth I’m amused. “I’m not sure love is the word I’d jump to….”

“Face it, Jamie,” Cass says. “She’s got Damien at home, just like you’ve got Ryan. I mean, seriously, what’s the point for you, two? For that matter,” she adds, grinning wickedly, “what’s the point for me?”

“Poor Cass,” Jamie and I both say in unison, each taking a hand. “Thank you for being a sport.”

“And the point isn’t for you to enjoy it,” Jamie tells me. “Though that view is a perk,” she adds with a nod to a second dancer who’s joined the first. “The point is for our husbands to know we’re here. That adds that extra spice when you get home.”

“Trust me, there’s plenty of spice at home. And you, my friend, are a tease.”

“Yeah, but Ryan loves it. And admit it, so do you.”

“I’m saying nothing.”

“How about you, Syl?” she asks. “Having a good time looking at the scenery while Jackson drinks beer back home with his buddies?”

“Hell, yes,” Sylvia says. “After a few more drinks I’ll start sending him naughty texts.” She’s kicked back with her feet on the empty chair in front of her where my friend Lisa was sitting. But Lisa, Jane, and Emma have wandered off to check out the other stages. I’m not sure where the rest of the girls are. Probably doing the same.

We’re at Raven, a somewhat seedy strip club where my friends had taken me for my first bachelorette party. I smile at the memory. Maybe it really is fitting to be here.

I raise my glass and grin at Jamie. “I do love you, James.”

“Hell yeah, you do.” She lifts her glass and we clink. “To all the good times,” she says.

My phone chimes, and I pull it out to see a text from Evelyn: you there?

A wave of worry crashes over me. There’s no reason that Evelyn should be contacting me on the last night of her honeymoon. I tap out a quick yes in reply.

I’m calling now.

I shoot Jamie a look, then stand up. “Evelyn’s calling,” I say as I step away. “I’m going to go take this someplace quieter.”

I answer on the first ring. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Texas, I’m fine. Your father’s fine. We’re having a wonderful time. But this is worth the interruption. I’m about to send you an image. I warn you, you’re not going to like it.”

I pace as I wait for the familiar ping that signals the incoming text. When it arrives, I open it with some trepidation.

A Secret Stark!

Damien Stark’s love child revealed!

The words are typed in boldface, and Evelyn has texted an image of the paper.

Another text follows, this one with the familiar handwritten note:

That’s what the tabloids will be saying, and it will be true. Because he’s an irresponsible, self-centered liar. He kept the truth hidden from the world. Hidden from his wife. What will his children think when they learn? The children who know they belong to him, anyway. How long did he think he could keep this up? This pretense that his life with his wife and his picture perfect family is so good and perfect. There’s another child out there. I have proof. And I will reveal it tomorrow.

I read the words with a frown, but they don’t scare me in the same way that the note calling me a whore did. That note was in our house. This one is just delusional.

And it’s not as if Damien and I haven’t faced something like this before. Not that long ago, a woman he once dated insisted that her son was Damien’s child. Ultimately, records showed that Damien was not related to the little boy, but she’d spent plenty of time harassing us and trying to get the media’s attention.

I’m sure this is the same thing, and I tell Evelyn as much.

“I imagine you’re right,” Evelyn says. “But you need to keep two things in mind. The first is that we both know Damien had many years with many women before you came along. I’m sure he was careful, but you never know the truth. And you should be prepared.”

“Of course, I am. But this isn’t about finding someone’s birth father. This is about harassment, maybe even revenge. But for what?”

“Isn’t that the question of the hour?” Evelyn says. “And I agree. But I also wanted to give you a heads-up about this. I figured you’re weren’t with Damien tonight—I know Jamie, after all. But I need to let him know about this, and I called you first because I knew you’d want to scoot on home to our boy.”

“No, let me tell him,” I say, though the thought of actually showing him Evelyn’s text makes me ill. “We’ll call you after, but I think it should be me.”

“Are you sure, Texas?”

“Yes. What do you think the proof is?”

“I don’t know. There might be none and it’s a complete bluff. There might be a paternity test. There might be a birth certificate. Who knows? I guess we’ll find out tomorrow. Charles took this to Judge Kaplan an hour ago. I’m afraid the court refused to issue an injunction to prevent the various papers and sites from publishing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t speak legalese, but what I gather from Charles is that the bottom line is that we don’t yet know who to enjoin. There are hundreds of places that could publish this, but we don’t know whose actually sending the texts. Plus, there’s the First Amendment coupled with the whole thing being speculative. We don’t even know what this person’s going to say or if it’s true. Plus, it’s no secret that Damien’s weathered a lot of scandal. So the court doesn’t want to stifle something that might be true, when a falsehood won’t actually impact Damien’s reputation.”

I drag my hands through my hair, thinking that this is absurd, but there’s nothing I can do or say that will stop it. “All right. He’s over at Jackson’s house with the guys. I’m going to head there now. Thanks for calling. I’m so sorry that this had to happen during your honeymoon.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Texas. Your father and I just want what’s best for the two of you. And we have plenty of honeymoon still to come. We’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll be there by ten,” she tells me. “So plenty of time to see those kids before the ceremony starts at noon.”

“All right. Give Frank a hug for me.”

“I will.”

We end the call and I turn to Jamie. “I need to go.”

“I gathered. But why? What is going on?”

“Evelyn got another text. They’re going to publish in some news rag tomorrow that Damien has a child running around out there. Other than the ones we have together, obviously.”

“Oh, no. Nicholas, I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head. “At this point, I think I’m numb. It feels like just one more thing. But it’s not going to sit well with Damien. I want him to hear it from me.”

“Okay. No problem. I totally get it.”

We’d come in one of the Stark limos, but I don’t want to take the time for it to come back, so I’m on my phone looking for an Uber when a text comes in from a number I don’t recognize.

Baby, it’s me. I broke my damn phone—this is one of those burners Ryan always keeps around. Did you get a text about me? Something that’s going to be published tomorrow? I need to see you. We need to talk about this.

I’m going to head your direction. Meet me here. We need to talk. And there are things I need to show you.

The message ends with a link to a map. I start to tap it, but don’t. My hands, I realize, are shaking and my whole body feels cold.

“What?” Jamie says.

I look up at her and meet her eyes. “Does Ryan keep burner phones with him?”

Jamie looks at me like I’m crazy. “What? You mean so he can contact all his other women?”

“Ha, ha. No, I mean like for work or something.”

“I assume he has some scattered around the house. And I know he has some at Stark Security. The operatives use them sometimes.”

“No, I mean like on him. Would he have them today while he’s at Jackson’s? In his car, maybe?”

“Okay, that’s a weird question. Why are you asking me that?” I pass her my phone, and her eyes go wide.

“That’s got to be a hoax.”

I nod, thankfully she voiced what I already knew but didn’t want to admit. Because this text was trying to lure me somewhere. But why? “I know. Hang on.”

I dial Ryan’s number, and he answers on the first ring. “Hey, Nikki. Are you calling to tell me my wife’s run off with another man?”

“I don’t think you’ll get rid of her that easily,” I say, grinning at Jamie and thankful for the moment of levity. “Listen, you didn’t lend Damien a burner phone, did you?” Ryan is silent, but I can practically hear the shift in his tone.

“What’s going on?”

I summarize for him, and he mutters a curse.

“Forward me the text. I’ll send a team to the location. And don’t open the map link. It might actually be spyware.”

“Done,” I say, sending the vile thing to him. “Can I speak to Damien? No, I take it back. I want to tell him about this in person. This and one other thing, too. Can you not mention it until I get there?”

“Nikki, what’s going on?”

“I’m not in any danger, if that’s what you mean.”

“I don’t know about that. Someone was trying to lure you away. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to keep this from your husband.”

I close my eyes, realizing I’d expected that answer. “All right,” I tell him. “I’ll wait here.”

We end the call, and I slide down in my seat to watch the show. Or try to. I feel numb, my mind racing, and these dancing, gyrating men on the stage are like nothing more than the ephemeral background of a very strange nightmare.

I don’t know how much time passes before Jackson, Ryan, and Damien stride into the club. I feel the shift in the air, then realize that most of the club’s patrons have turned to look at them. I see anticipation on their faces; clearly these women are hoping that these men are going to get up on stage, too.

As far as I can tell, the guys are entirely oblivious to the other women in the room. As Jackson and Ryan find their wives, Damien crosses directly to me, then takes my hand.

“With me,” he says, and I have only enough time to look back at my friends and mouth goodbye before he leads me out. The limo is waiting, and we get in. Immediately, we pull away from the curb.

“What about everyone else?”

“They can find their own way home.” He pulls me close and kisses me, a long, deep kiss. The kind that’s more claiming than affection. As if he has to prove to himself that I’m real and safe, and that I’m his.

“Tell me the rest of it,” he says when we pull apart. “Ryan told me about the text trying to send you off to the middle of nowhere. But he also said there was something else you needed to tell me.”

I draw a breath, then show him the text and relay the conversation with Evelyn. “Charles can’t stop it. All we know is that there’s going to be an announcement tomorrow.”

Damien leans back, but he doesn’t look broken. He looks frustrated, and I can’t blame him.

“Sweetheart, I hope this isn’t true. But we’ve had this conversation before. There is a possibility. A slim one, because I’ve always been careful, but there is a possibility.”

“I know that.” He told me himself when we first started going out that he didn’t date, but he did fuck. In many ways, Damien had been as lost as I was before we found each other. I’d cut. He’d lost himself in his business, moving forward toward conquering the world, and on that journey he had a stream of gorgeous women on his arm. Considering his reputation back then, I suppose we’re lucky this hasn’t happened more often.

“Listen, I don’t know if it’s true,” he says. “And if it is, I don’t know what their endgame is. Why not just approach me? Why send these vile texts? I don’t know, and I don’t like it.”

He shifts in his seat and takes my hand. “There’s only one thing I know for certain right now, and that’s us. You and me, Nikki. Our daughters. Our son. Our friends and all the people we care about. They’re my world. You’re my world. I will find out who’s doing this, I promise. I’ll get us answers, whether this is a hoax or the truth or some mixture of both. But right now I need you to do something for me.”

I look at him and nod.

“Anything.”

He pulls me close and kisses the top of my head. “Right now, I just need you to let me hold you.”

Unlike Evelyn and Frank, we wanted our wedding in the afternoon, primarily so the kids would have a chance to play in the pool and on the lawn after the ceremony. By noon, everyone has gathered. The invited press is set up in the back, our friends are all sitting in the white folding chairs lined up on the lawn, the wedding arch is covered with flowers, and our children are standing in front of us at the back of the aisle.

This time, Lara and Anne won’t be scattering flowers. Instead they’re simply going to walk ahead of us, holding their little brother’s hand as he walks between them. The three of them look absolutely adorable in their fancy clothes, and as I lean against Damien, I don’t think that I’ve ever been happier in my life, not even on our original wedding day. That day had been amazing, but I wasn’t a mom back then. And, honestly, that colors everything.

The music begins, people turn in their chairs, and our children start down the aisle. We wait until they get halfway, then Damien and I take our first steps as well. He squeezes my hand and whispers, “I love you,” and I know that my smile couldn’t be any brighter.

I feel all the eyes on us as we walk the short distance to the arch. As we planned, as soon as we arrive, our children sit near the judge’s feet, making them an integral part of the ceremony, too.

Judge Kaplan smiles at us, then lifts his eyes toward our gathered friends and family. “Thank you all for coming to celebrate with Nikki and Damien, as they renew their vows.”

He takes a breath, getting ready to start the small speech before Damien and I speak the vows we wrote to each other, but he’s interrupted by a man’s voice from the back.

“Not everyone came here to celebrate,” he says, the words sending a chill up my spine. Damien squeezes my hand and we turn around to see a dark haired man who looks vaguely familiar standing at the end of the aisle.

I have a moment of déjà vu as I think that he must be the man I saw at Evelyn and Frank’s wedding. But as I look closer, I realize that he’s not. The two men look similar, but there are enough differences in their faces to make me certain I didn’t see this man last week.

Damien starts to take a step toward him, and I hear his soft curse. That’s when I realize who this person is. It’s Ashton Stone, and I recognize him from his picture on the television.

Before Damien can speak, Stone’s words ring out over the heads of all of our friends. “Damien Stark isn’t a man I can celebrate,” he says. “Neither should you. He may be wealthy. He may be powerful. But this is a man who had a son. Who shoved that child out of sight so that he wouldn’t get in the way of his fabulous life on the tennis circuit and then in industry. Damien Stark is a man who sacrificed family for money and fame. This is a man who doesn’t deserve your celebration. How do I know? My name is Ashton Carrington Stone. And my father is Damien Stark.”

I feel my knees go weak, and I think Damien’s have, too, because his arm goes around my waist and he holds me close. I expect him to signal to the security guards to take Ashton away, but instead he lets him speak.

I’m not sure if there’s a purpose, or if he’s just too shell-shocked to stop the man. Everyone in the crowd is silent, some looking at us, some looking at Ashton. I see Evelyn’s eyes on me, and the sympathy reflected there makes me want to cry more than this man’s words.

“Smells like scandal to me,” Ashton continues. “You have daddy issues, Stark? Well guess what? So do I. And now that I’m an adult with my own assets and resources, I’m not just going to sit back and stay quiet. I’m going to destroy you, destroy your business. You know I have the tech to build on, and I’m very, very motivated.

“It’ll be a challenge, sure, but it’s one I’m willing to pursue, and I’ll have a great time doing it.” He turns and steps into the aisle, then drops a large, sealed envelope onto the ground.

“I’m leaving now. Have your goons stop me if you want, that’s your choice. But you know that every word I’ve said is true. You left me. You forgot about me. You erased me from your life. And I’m going to erase you, too.”

And then as me and everyone else in the crowd gasps, Ashton Stone turns and walks away, with Damien standing still and silent beside me.

As soon as he’s gone, the crowd starts to murmur. I hear Damien’s name as well as mine. And someone’s voice rises above the unintelligible murmurs to very clearly point out just how much Ashton Stone looks like Damien.

From her seat in the front, Sylvia calls the children to her.

But Damien shakes his head. “No. Stay where you are, kids.” He looks out over the crowd, even at the press who are practically buzzing with what they’ve just witnessed. I’m certain they’re already quietly sending texts of this breaking news back to their offices.

“For the record,” he says, as he moves to pick up the folder, “I barely know that man, and I don’t know what grudge he holds against me. But it doesn’t matter. This day is about me and Nikki and our vows, and we’re going to continue this ceremony. If you’d all please take your seats, we can continue.”

Everyone gathered, including the press, falls silent as Damien starts to turn back toward the arch. But I don’t. I stay perfectly still, frozen by the mathematical reality that Damien clearly hasn’t yet considered.

Ashton Stone is in his late twenties, which means that if Damien is his father, Damien would have been around fourteen when Ashton was conceived. And that’s how old he was when he slept with Sofia, doing the only thing he could to keep his father from whoring her out.

“Damien,” I whisper. “We need to postpone the ceremony.”

He turns back to face me, and I can see the effort as he works to control his temper. “The hell we are. Today’s about family. This is our day, our day to celebrate our marriage and our family.”

“I know. You’re right. The day is about family.” I squeeze his hand, hating this so much, and hating even more that our private life is so damn public. “But, Damien,” I whisper, “I think Ashton Stone might be family, too.”