“I don’t know. Do I know how to be a good dad?” Aidan asked.
Stan looked at him with a narrowed gaze. “You didn’t have the best example in your father,” he admitted. He’d been a patron of Murphy’s Pub long before Aidan took over and had been good friends with Patrick Murphy, his father. “But I’ve known you since you were a kid and you’ve grown into a good man, Aidan. You gave up your career to take over this place after your dad died. You took care of your mother while she was sick, God rest her soul. You know how to be a good dad because you’re a good person. I’m certain of it.”
Aidan thought over his regular customer’s words carefully before he nodded. “You’re right,” he said at last. “Being there is more than some dads do, rich or poor. I’m just not sure if that’s enough for a kid like him.”
“A kid like what?”
“A rich kid. I can’t buy him a sports car or send him to some Ivy League school like other dads can. But I want to play catch with him and take him to his first Yankees game. I want to teach him what he needs to know to be a strong, honorable man in this world, so when he grows up with a fortune at his disposal, he doesn’t abuse his powers. I also want him to have a normal childhood.”
“What’s normal?”
“Having a trust fund opened the day you’re born isn’t normal. Neither are boarding schools, live-in nannies and being captain of the polo team.” Aidan shook his head. “No ma
tter what I say or do, my son is going to be a rich kid. That’s a given. All I can do is try to keep him levelheaded so he isn’t a spoiled, obnoxious rich kid.”
“Good luck with that,” Stan said, taking the last sip out of his pint glass. He shuffled off his stool and tugged his coat back on.
Aidan chuckled at his regular and went to close out his tab. “Thanks.”
Five
The sound of the phone ringing—again—was enough to set Violet’s teeth on edge.
That morning, she’d stepped out into her kitchen and found herself ankle deep in cold, murky water. Understandably, her day had gone downhill from there. Hours of phone calls, troops of repairmen and insurance company paperwork had left her slightly less damp, temporarily homeless and extremely irritable. So when the doorman rang to let her know she had another guest, she wasn’t exactly receptive to the news. But it was Aidan, so she said to send him up anyway.
She waited in the foyer as Aidan stepped out of the elevator and stopped. Her front door was standing wide-open with a huge industrial fan blowing in on the wood floors. His eyes were wide with surprise as he ran his hands through his long strands of auburn hair.
“What the hell happened here?” he asked as he took a giant step over the fan into her apartment.
Violet sighed and pointed to the disaster area she once called a kitchen. “Apparently one of the pipes from the upstairs bathroom corroded and finally burst in the night. It took out my kitchen ceiling and filled most of the apartment with several inches of water. This is one of the joys of living in a pre-war building, I guess. I never expected to wake up to a mess like this.”
Aidan looked around with a grim set to his jaw. “This is going to take a while to fix. The wood floors will have to be replaced. They’re already warping. Some of the floor and ceiling supports, too. The insulation soaks up the water inside the walls, so that might have to get ripped out and replaced along with all the drywall that got wet. Maybe even the cabinetry. It’s a big job, for sure.”
“Do you know much about construction?” Violet asked.
He shrugged. “Not really, but I’ve done some jobs here and there. Dad’s bar flooded during Superstorm Sandy and I had to help with some of that. I’m going to be doing most of the renovation of my mother’s house when we get the money. It will help me stretch the dollars further. I know it takes time, though. Did the repairmen give you a timeline?”
“No, but I’ve basically given them a week to get it back to functional. If they do a good job I might pay them later to renovate the kitchen. I was thinking about doing that at some point anyway.”
“A week isn’t very long for all that work.”
“Well, with the amount of money I’m willing to pay to fix this, they can figure out how to get it done. I can’t stand to stay in a hotel for longer than a week at a time, and that was before Knox came along. As it is, it’s going to be a tight squeeze with Tara, the baby and me. Even a suite at the Plaza is going to feel claustrophobic after too long with all of Knox’s things.”
“The Plaza?” Aidan said with a strange expression twisting his face. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” Violet said, not entirely sure why he thought it was an odd choice. It was just down the street and convenient. “I already made the reservations. We can’t stay in the apartment when it’s a construction zone. Tara is packing up her and Knox’s things right now.”
“You don’t have family you can stay with? What about your parents?”
Violet stifled a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand and softly shaking her head. While it did seem like a logical option, there was no way she was packing up and going home unless she had no other choice. Even with her parents out of the country, she’d suddenly be fourteen again and they’d be in her business, having the housekeeper spy on her and report back. And they’d be in Aidan’s business if he came around the apartment, as well.
“No, thank you. I’d rather stay in a hotel than do that. I’ve told you how they are.”
His blue eyes searched around the room for an answer, although she doubted he’d find it among the warped wood and soggy insulation tiles. “What about staying with me, then?”
Violet stopped and it was her turn to frown. “With you? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” Aidan said. “You’ve been to my place before. It’s not the Plaza by any stretch, but I’ve got two roomy bedrooms and a full kitchen, which you won’t have at the Plaza. I’m at work most of the time, so you’d have the place to yourself. It’s just for a week and it would give me more time with Knox.”