A Chance at Love (A Ferry Creek Novel): (a billionaire romance novel) (5 page)

"About the wagon?"

"When I was six or seven.
Maybe younger. My mother and father dressed me as a bat. I didn't want to walk
so my father took the wagon and painted the letter 'D' over in black paint so
the wagon said
'Ded Flyer',
you know, because I was a bat."

Beverly smiled. "That's
nice."

"Nice? Beverly... the man who
painted the wagon is dead. The man who thought of calling me the
'Ded Flyer'
is dead."

"So how did this man get a
picture?"

Sullivan raised an eyebrow.
"You tell me."

"I can't," Beverly said.
"But he wouldn't stop describing the picture. Then he said he just found
out you were his brother. That his father admitted he had a son with another
woman."

Sullivan pushed from the desk.
"Impossible. No. Never. This is a scam."

"What do you mean?"

"It's someone looking for
money," Sullivan said. "That's all. Someone digging around and
finding dirt on me. I'll call him. Better yet, I'll have one of the lawyers
call him."

"Lawyers?" Beverly asked.
"He sounded so serious. And sad, Sullivan."

"Beverly, you're a
sweetheart," Sullivan said. "But if I fell for every serious and sad
story out there we'd all be out of jobs."

Beverly hung her head. "I
understand."

She slowly stood and looked
disappointed.

"I'm sorry," Sullivan
said. "I appreciate your care. But... here..."

Sullivan grabbed the picture off
his desk and turned it around.

"Who is that?"

"My father," Sullivan
said. "He's been dead a decade. He's not sick and dying. And I don't have
a brother."

"Okay," Beverly
whispered. "I'll go back to work now, Sullivan."

Beverly turned and it tore into
Sullivan's heart a little. The woman had such good intentions. Sullivan reached
into his pocket and took out some money.

"Beverly, do me a favor."

"Sure."

"Get some coffees. For the
office. Go for a ride and clear your mind. I'm really sorry you had to go
through that. You should not have to take that kind of phone call. I'll make
sure it doesn't happen again."

Beverly took the money and left the
office.

Sullivan looked at the picture
again.

The face. The lips. Facial hair.
Everything...

Sullivan swallowed perhaps the
largest dose of pride he would ever in his life. The look on Beverly's face did
it. Something about that damn story and that damn picture... how could someone
get that picture?

'Ded Flyer.'

Sullivan smiled but it faded quick.

He touched his cell phone.

He'd have to make the call... not
to the lawyers, no. He wanted to hear this guy on the phone. He wanted to see
just how serious and sad this man really was.

Sullivan kept a stern face and
stared straight ahead. He called from his office phone because it just felt
more professional. No, more official. This guy would regret calling Sullivan
and harassing his secretary. And after ripping into the guy he would then call
the lawyers and they would handle all the wordy, threatening paperwork.

Just like that, it would all go
away.

When a voicemail picked up,
Sullivan puckered his lips.

What to do now...?

The beep came quicker than Sullivan
had expected and it was his chance to speak. After a few seconds of silence
Sullivan found his voice.

"Hello. This is Sullivan Chasen
calling. You had called my cell phone number and then my office. After speaking
with my secretary it's obvious this wasn't a business phone call. I must
reassure you that my father... my father is dead. I'm not sure who you are or
what you are looking for but I can promise you that any further phone calls
will be considered harassment and will be dealt with through my lawyers. Yes, I
said lawyers. Think twice and do a little more research before starting a
problem with someone. Have a nice day."

Sullivan ended the call and let out
a long sigh. He couldn't believe his heart was racing like it was. He never got
nervous. Ever. Hell, during some of the toughest negotiations he kept his face
straight and heart calm.

He leaned back in his chair and let
out another sigh. It had just been one of those weeks. From the moment he
stepped into the office on Monday until right then he just knew some kind of
news
–
good or bad
–
was lurking. Sullivan figured
it was all revolving around the meeting with Charles. It was obvious the man
needed his job and needed the deal to go through. Not for a second did Sullivan
actually believe he was giving Charles or the township a bad deal on anything.
He really did want to see that piece of land cleaned up. Behind that land was
an apartment building that had been for sale
‘
off
the record
’
for a few
months. Sullivan wanted to snag that while he could and clean that up to turn
it into a family community area.

It would all work out and benefit
everyone.

Sullivan got up when someone
knocked on his door. When he opened it, he saw Parker standing with his tie
loosened and a small bottle in his hand.

“
On
a Friday?
”
Sullivan asked.

“
We
just closed a deal,
”
Parker
said.
“
I thought it was
going to take longer, but come on. One sip.
”

Sullivan took the small bottle of
scotch from Parker
’
s hand
and walked it to his desk. He tapped the top of it, considering actually having
a drink. But he couldn
’
t.
Not this early on a Friday and not with his mind racing like it was.

“
Talk
to me, Sullivan,
”
Parker
said.
“
You looked really
pissed off right now.
”

Sullivan tugged on his tie as he
sat back down. He folded his hands and stared at Parker. It seemed like it wasn
’
t that long ago that Parker sat
across from Sullivan at the same desk with this look of hope in his eyes. A
hungry man looking to make something for himself in a lucrative business.
Somehow throughout the years Sullivan and Parker ended up closer than Sullivan
would have probably liked.

“
Just
feeling bothered,
”
Sullivan
said.
“
That
’
s all.
”

“
You
’
re going to be bothered,
”
Parker said.
“
When this deal is announced
everyone will want a piece of you to talk about it.
”

“
You
know why I wanted this, right?
”

“
Sure,
”
Parker said.
“
Helps everyone. Gives kids a
place to play without worry.
”

“
Then
you can handle it all,
”
Sullivan said.
“
The whole
thing.
”

“
I
couldn
’
t do that,
”
Parker said.
“
This is your baby.
”

Sullivan
’
s eyes looked to the picture on his desk.
“
I may have something bigger to
deal with.
”

“
Talk
to me about it. What can I do to help?
”

Sullivan considered his next
question, but it came out before he could really think about it.
“
Do you look like your father?
”

“
Do
I look like my father?
”
Parker asked.

“
Yeah.
Just a question.
”

Parker rubbed his jaw.
“
Well, Sullivan, my father took
off when I was one. I never saw him and I can
’
t
remember ever seeing a picture of him either.
”

“
I
’
m sorry about that,
”
Sullivan said.
“
That
’
s a shame.
”

“
Not
really,
”
Parker said.
“
My mother raised me just fine.
From what I understood throughout my life was that my father wasn
’
t that great of a man. Drinking
problems. Money problems. Jail time. The usual single mother broken hearted
story. Can I ask why you wanted to know that?
”

“
Just
curious,
”
Sullivan said.
“
That phone call that came
through today was from some guy stirring up shit. Claiming my father is sick
and dying. My father
’
s been
dead for ten years. It just... just gets to you, you know?
”

“
People
can be low, Sullivan,
”
Parker said.
“
I
’
m sorry that happened.
”

“
Seems
like you have a ton of work to do, huh?
”

Parker took the hint and stood up.
He saluted Sullivan with a grin and then reached for the bottle of scotch. Sullivan
’
s hand gripped the bottle before
Parker could get to it.

“
I
’
ll be taking this,
”
Sullivan said.
“
Personal reasons.
”

“
You
know how much that little bottle cost?
”
Parker asked.

“
You
know much the commission is on this deal?
”

“
You
win,
”
Parker said.

“
Always
do,
”
Sullivan said as
Parker left the office.

Sullivan looked at his cell phone.
He pressed a button for Beverly to ask if anyone had called, but he forgot that
she was out getting coffees.

Sullivan could have worked on a
dozen or more projects that were waiting for his attention. He just couldn
’
t bring himself to just let it
go. It angered him as much as it intrigued him. The fact that he just asked
Parker if he looked like his father was the line. That was a line Sullivan knew
he shouldn
’
t have crossed.
Parker was a nice guy but he was strictly business and nothing more. That
’
s what made him and Sullivan get
along so well. There was no outside talk.

Sullivan grabbed his cell phone
again and made another phone call.

This one was to the lawyers.

“
Hey,
Sandy, it
’
s Sullivan. How
are you? Listen, is Dave around today? Yeah. Can you put him on?
”

The line was dead and Sullivan realized
his mouth was running dry.

His mouth never ran dry.

He closed his eyes, refusing to
look at the picture on his desk as he made the phone call.

“
Sully!
”
a voice boomed.

Sully.

Sullivan hated being called that.
Nobody dared to do it but Dave. Only because Dave was the best damn lawyer
Sullivan had ever met in his life.

“
I
need you,
”
Sullivan said.

“
Who
did you piss off this time?
”

“
This
is personal.
”

“
Personal?
Do you pay yourself enough to afford me?
”

“
Just
bill me,
”
Sullivan said.

Dave laughed.
“
What
’
s going on? Nothing bad, I hope.
”

“
No,
nothing legal,
”
Sullivan
said.
“
I mean, I
’
m not in trouble. I just have a
question... I figured you
’
d
know because you know everything.
”

“
Whoa,
hold on. Can I get that on record? Sullivan Chasen just admitted that someone
other than him knows everything.
”

“
Yeah,
calm yourself, big boy. Let
’
s
talk DNA.
”

“
DNA?
”
Dave asked.

“
What
do you know about it?
”

“
What
do you want to know?
”

Sullivan opened his eyes. He stared
at his father. His heart ached a little.

“
Is
there a way to find out if I have a brother... or a different father than I
thought?
”

Bobby touched his pocket and cursed
himself. He left his cell phone in the truck. He always left his cell phone in
the truck and it was always a big problem. Just ask his ex-wife. That was one
of the many fights they relived over and over again.

In front of him, his father lay
partially awake, his head turned to the right, staring either out the window or
at the wall. Bobby could sense that, no matter what, his father wasn
’
t really seeing much nor did he
really care what he looked at anymore. Bobby had been told that they would keep
all suffering as minimal as possible. That may have been true for his father in
the physical sense, but for Bobby, suffering seemed to just be a card he played
every single day of his life.

He touched his father
’
s arm and felt how weak it was.
He squeezed and feared he
’
d
break the man
’
s bone. This
was a man who slept four hours a night and worked harder than anyone Bobby ever
knew. This was a man who kept The Pot Diner open during the worst of times.
This was a man who broke up fights on his own, helped any person in Ferry
Creek, no matter what, and this was a man who, to Bobby, was the tallest and
strongest man in the world. But now that strongest man waited to say goodbye.