His Call Read Free Page B

reversed that. Her incessant need for “real caffeine,” as she refers to it, is rubbing off on me slightly.
    That, and she keeps me up all hours of the night with her wandering hands.
    My phone buzzes from the kitchen counter where I left it last night, and I answer it without checking the caller ID.
    “Aaron Stone.”
    “Son.” My father’s voice is tight yet warm, and I know instantly that he’s calling with bad news. It’s the middle of the fucking night in New York. “How are you?”
    “Better than you, I assume, considering you’re calling me at three a.m.”
    He takes a deep breath that makes the line crackle. “How is your time off?”
    “What’s the problem, Dad? It’s eight in the morning and I don’t have the time or patience to run through pleasantries.”
    “What makes you think something is wrong?”
    “Twenty-seven years of life means I’m fairly well equipped to know when my father is keeping something from me.” I walk across to the window and trace the outline of the Eiffel Tower the way I ’ve watched Dayton do so many times. “Is there a problem with the business?”
    “Not exactly.”
    “Then what, Dad?”
    “Naomi.”
    I exhale harshly. Fuck. I knew she’d pop up somewhere. “What’s she done this time?”
    “Somehow she’s discovered that you’re in Paris and has taken it upon herself to organize a welcome dinner for you in your hotel.”
    A stream of curse words leave s my mouth. I’m not in the habit of swearing in front of my parents, but this situation calls for it.
    “She’s supposed to be in London. That’s the entire reason for this week ’s break—to avoid a confrontation with her.”
    “I know, but she found out, and you’re going have to attend this function.”
    “I’m not supposed to be working this week. You know that, Dad.”
    “I do, son. But the issue is that she’s invited a lot of the Paris staff, including models and some clients. You understand the implications if you don’t show your face.”
    “Yes.” I run my fingers through my hair, every one of my muscles tightening with the prospect of coming face to face with my wife.
    “You have to go, Aaron. Even if just for an hour. I take it Dayton isn’t yet aware of Naomi?”
    My jaw tightens, and I ignore his question. “Yes, we’ll be there.”
    “Aaron, you must tell her.”
    “Okay. Bye.” I hang up and let the phone fall from my fingers. It falls to the floor with a dense thud reminiscent of the way my heart dropped at the mention of my ex’s name.
    I fall onto the sofa and rest my arm across my eyes, sighing heavily. Fuck. This very situation is what I was trying to protect Day from.
    “That doesn’t sound like a great way to start your day.” Her voice softly travels across the room, cutting through my thoughts.
    “It’s not!”
    My voice is sharper than I meant, much sharper than she deserves. I can’t help it. I know Naomi is hosting dinner tonight to spite me and prove some fucked-up point.
    I lean my head back on the sofa and look at Dayton. She’s hunched over the counter, a mug under the coffee machine. Defeat radiates from her the same way surprise does. I know I’ve never spoken to her that way.
    She didn’t deserve that.
    I push off from the sofa and wrap my arms around her dainty waist. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”
    “Damn right you shouldn’t have.” She pours a cup of coffee, her chest jolting with a sharp breath. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? If not, I’m going to shower.”
    I laugh quietly, trying to relieve some tension. Damn, she knows me so well. Too well, sometimes, I muse. “Someone I’m not particularly fond of heard we’re in Paris this week. They’ve taken the liberty of organizing a company dinner here at the hotel tonight, and my father just informed me that we’re expected to attend. Required to, actually.”
    “What if we had plans ?” She steps from my loose hold and raises her