Sienna closed her eyes. She wouldn’t feel sorry for him. She wouldn’t let herself. He’d always been a scoundrel, the personality trait contributing to his success in the entertainment industry for over four decades, but embezzling over six million dollars from his own company was more than the actions of a scoundrel—it was the act of a criminal, and he was where he deserved to be. “Dad, I’m not sure—”
“Anything you can do, Kitten. That’s all I ask.” Another one of those weighty pauses stretched between them. “I know I’ve been a crap father, but if I ever get the chance, I want to make it up to you.”
Sienna rubbed her hand down her face. God, I so don’t need this right now. She opened her eyes and stared at the floor. So much for not painting James Dyson. “I’ll work something out.”
“I love you, Sienna. Always have. Just wasn’t that good at showin’ it.”
A small smile pulled at her lips before she could stop it. She rolled her eyes. She was too damn soft. “I know, Dad. I love you, too.”
“I’ve told Zach to let up a little. Hope it helps.” He cleared his throat. “And, Kitten, don’t…don’t let him go off on his own, okay? Not until I’m out. Drive him to school and that kind of thing. And if anyone comes round saying they’re from Pablo Reynard, tell them to leave you alone, and that Reynard will get his money.”
“Is this Pablo Reynard dangerous?” Her pulse thumped faster at the unusual request. “What aren’t you telling me? Is there something I should know?”
“No. No, not at all,” he said, the denial a hurried tumble of words. “Just want my two children to be safe, is all. If I can’t see you both often, I want to know you’re together while I’m in here.”
She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “We are safe. Don’t worry.”
“I won’t, Kitten. Take care.”
“You, too, Dad.”
Swallowing a lump in her throat the size of a soccer ball, she disconnected. Just when she’d thought she couldn’t get any more confused about life and her role in it, she did.
“You okay?”
She looked up to find Zach standing before her, surprised by the faint concern on his face. “Yeah, I’m okay. Question?”
He nodded.
“Have you ever had anyone called Pablo Reynard come up to you?”
“I think that was the name of the guy who offered to pay me to have sex with him yesterday.”
Sienna blinked. “Are you serious?”
Zach snorted. “No.”
“Zach,” she groaned, heart a sledgehammer in her throat. “Don’t do that.”
A sheepish apology tugged at his lips. “Sorry. Why?”
She dragged her fingers through her hair and gave him a wry grin. “No reason. Just…if someone called that comes near you, run as fast as you can away from him, okay?”
He gave her a curious nod. “’Kay.”
Forcing herself to relax, she rubbed her palms over her thighs. “So, what do you want for lunch?”
Zach shrugged, a guarded tension falling over him as he dropped onto the sofa. “Dunno. Don’t think I’m hungry.”
Pulling in a slow breath, she walked across the room and lowered herself onto the cushion beside him. “Think we need to talk.”
His Adam’s apple jerked up and down his throat. “What about?”
She shrugged back at him. “Stuff. Like what happened this morning, maybe?”
He grimaced, looking away. “Do we have to?”
“I didn’t mean for you to see that. But you did, and I think you’re old enough to talk about it.”
“We did talk about it,” he shot back without turning to look at her. “You told me it was complicated.”
“Okay, I deserve that.” She sighed, rubbed at her arm some more, and then raked her hands through her hair. “That man—”
“James Dyson.”
Her heart jumped into her throat. “Oh, you know who he is now?”
Zach pivoted on the cushion to glare at her. “Once I calmed down, I tried to remember where I’d seen him before. He’s been on the news. I remembered the name and Googled him. I know exactly who he is and how much money he has.”