Kyle
Seth Williams Baker was in love for the umpteenth time. Considering how often women had shattered his heart as porcelain dropped from the highest shelf, it was remarkable. Four divorces down the line, and you’d think he’d learned his lesson. But Dad was the kindest man I knew—kind to a fault—and people saw it as an invitation to take advantage of him. Time and time again, he let them.
“We’re getting married this month,” Dad said, his voice brimming with excitement over the phone. It was the same tone he used six months ago when he swore Bianca was “the one.”
“Why the rush?” I asked, keeping my tone nonchalant as I doodled nonsense on my notepad. Not that I wasn’t interested; I was bloody fascinated. But showing too much interest in Dad’s endless love life only made him ramble more.
“Why waste time when nothing’s stopping us?” he said, as though marriage was as casual as grabbing a pint.
“Hello, I haven’t even met her yet.”
“Well then, hop on a flight and come meet her. I’m sure you’ll like her.”
That’s what he always said, but I’ve never liked them. Just from a glance, it was apparent that they were gold-diggers only there to suck his money. Sometimes, it was a wonder how he couldn’t see through them.
Dad was one of the best lawyers in New York, arguably the whole world, and had racked up a lot of money cleaning the ass off a lot of rich asses, which naturally gold-diggers would troop in like flies hearing the smell of honey.
“That’s what you said about Bianca. And Cheryl. And Laura.” I listed the names off my fingers, the sarcasm laced thick. “Let me guess. She’s ‘different,’ right?”
“She is, and don’t you judge someone you haven’t met,” he said, his enthusiasm unwavering. “You’ll see for yourself when you get here. But no excuses this time, Kyle. I expect you on the next flight.”
“God, you always do this to me.” I raked my hand through my hair, leaning back in my chair.
“And you always give in. It’s why I love you, mate.” His laugh was warm and familiar and annoyingly effective.
“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll try to make it work.”
“Good lad, and Kyle? You’ll see that Hazel is nothing like the others. She has a sweet little daughter who’s dying to meet you.”
“I wish I could say the same,” I said.
Dad either didn’t hear or pretended not to. “I’ll see you soon, then. And Kyle? Don’t forget to bring a date this time around.”
“Yeah?”
“Also, don’t forget that I love you, son.”
My brow shot up. Dad didn’t throw the L-word around unless he was particularly vulnerable. It usually came after he’d been dumped, not when he was about to tie the knot.
“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, suddenly feeling a twinge of guilt. “I love you too, you soft old git.”
“See? Wasn’t so hard to say, was it?” He chuckled before hanging up.
I stared at my phone, his words lingering like a bad smell. There was something about how he’d said it—like he feared it might be his last chance. Maybe I was overthinking it. Probably. Still, my mood was sour.
“That sounded intense,” Benjamin said, slurping obnoxiously on his third morning coffee. His wide grin made it clear he was enjoying my discomfort.
“Dad’s planning another bloody wedding,” I said, my voice dripping with disdain.
“What? Didn’t he just get divorced? What was her name again?” Benjamin darted his eyes back and forth like he was thinking with his eyes instead of his brain. “Right, Bianca.”
“Two months ago,”
“And he’s already looking to remarry? That’s fast.”
“That’s Dad for you. Falls in love faster than a London bus runs late.” I leaned forward, flipping through the papers on my desk to look busy. I didn’t want to keep talking about this, but Benjamin wasn’t one to drop a juicy topic.
“So if he divorced two months ago, when did he start dating his new fiancée? And where the hell did he meet her?”
Beats me to it.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they started dating last week. Maybe she an escort or an influencer.”
I had caught him several times with escorts during their summer fling tete-a-tete or whatever the hell they were doing.”
“Shut up, mate. Who’d be crazy enough to marry an escort?”
“Seth Williams Baker. I can see him doing that repeatedly, and I have no idea how to talk some sense into him.
“This time around, though, it’s too fast. Something is up. “
“I don’t think so, think he’s in love. You should have heard how he pronounced her name with so much affection and grinning like he was getting married for the first time, still believing in the stupidity that love is a forever thing.”
“What was her name again?”
“Hannah or Hazel, I think.” I sighed, my pen scratching uselessly at a legal brief I wasn’t reading.
“What if he’s right this time around? What if she’s the one?” He said again with the eye thing, and I shot him a look.
“Don’t be daft. Dad’s been wrong four times already, so excuse me if I don’t hold my breath.”
“You’re such a pessimist,” Benjamin said, shaking his head. “What if she’s his twin flame?”
“Twin flames don’t exist. It’s bollocks.”
“You know what they say about love,” he continued, clearly in the mood to wax poetic. “It’s a gamble. And sometimes, you win the lottery.”
“Or you lose everything,” I muttered, flipping the page on the brief, pretending to care about it.
“Suit yourself. But I’m tagging along for the wedding. Someone needs to make sure you don’t scare off Hazel before we find out if she’s the real deal.”
I waved him off, already done with the conversation. Work was piling up, and burying myself in it seemed the only way to stop thinking about Dad and his newest “forever.”