“Thank you, Jonathan.” She smoothed her hair and straightened her sweater and slacks. She did have to talk to her father. Not only about the party she was going to plan for him, but the baby she was going to have. As her parent, she supposed he deserved to know.
Greer slipped her flats back on and then headed down the stairs and into the main part of the castle, looking for her father. Finding a person in the Dutchman castle was sometimes like finding a needle in a haystack, but her father had a few favorite haunts. He wasn’t in the movie room, the library, or taking laps in the indoor swimming pool. She found him in his study, seated at an enormous glass desk, going over proofs of the next magazine issue.
“Hello, Vader,” she called out as she entered.
“Little Greer,” he greeted, putting aside the folder and getting to his feet. “I’m glad you made it. I have a lot of ideas for the party.” He extended his hands to her and she put her hands in his and they exchanged air kisses on their cheeks. “Come sit down, and I’ll go over my checklist.”
That was about as warm as Stijn Janssen got with her, Greer thought wryly. She was treated more like an old business associate than a daughter. There was no asking how one was doing, what she was up to, how her wedding planning business was going. It was always—and always would be—about Stijn and Stijn alone.
At sixty-five, her father was still an impressive figure. Over six feet tall, his hair had finally faded from pale blond to silver, but his shoulders were as broad as ever and his face just as tanned. His cheeks were unlined, but the set of his mouth got a little thinner every year, and he was starting to get a gut. Not that Greer would ever say that to him. “You look well, Vader.”
He shot her an unreadable look. “I should. Those women are working me to the bone. So demanding, all three of them. You met them? My triplets?”
Ah yes, nothing like getting reminded that her father didn’t really think of her as a daughter. As if she wanted to hear about his sexual conquests. “I did. They seem very nice.”
“They’re stupid,” he said bluntly, sitting back down in his chair and digging through a few folders. “But they’re enthusiastic.”
Calling them stupid seemed cruel. “You do have a type,” she said lightly.
He shot her another look, and this time it was irritated. “I do not. Your mother was nothing like them.”
Yes, and you discarded her and me. But she bit those words back. “Speaking of mothers . . .”
Stijn pulled out a piece of paper and then put on his reading glasses, perching them on his broad nose. “Now let me tell you my idea for the theme. I was thinking something with ice. Something elegant, though. This is a showpiece of a party. There will be very important people there and we don’t want to look trashy. So, ice. Ice can be elegant. Maybe diamonds. I think—”
“Vader,” she interrupted. If he got started on work, she’d never be able to broach the subject of her pregnancy.
He paused and angled his head so he could stare at her over his reading glasses. “What?”
“You should know that . . .” She sucked in a breath, and then forced herself to admit the words. “I’m pregnant.”
He blinked. “Can you work? Is it going to be a problem with planning my celebration?”
“No, it won’t be a problem—”
He tapped his glasses, pushing them farther back on his nose. “So I was thinking diamonds. An elegant theme. Like satin and diamonds. Or does that make you think of strippers?”
She bit back her sigh of disappointment. Why had she expected her father to show any sort of emotion? He never called her unless he needed something. He never remembered her on holidays. He didn’t care about family. Of course he wouldn’t care about her baby. Maybe she was still reaching for that dream of family after all. Hope sprung eternal, and Greer had always been an optimist. She idly touched her stomach. She’d just have to be enough family for her baby without anyone else.
“Greer? Diamonds?”
She sat forward in her chair and pulled a blank piece of paper off his desk, and picked up a pen. “Perhaps we can tweak the idea, Vader. Maybe not satin and diamonds. How about black tie and diamonds? Or perhaps just call it a black tie affair?”
“Good idea,” Stijn said, grinning. “See, this is why I wanted you to do it. You have good taste.”
And Greer kind of hated that she got a little inward thrill at her father’s approval.
Chapter 3
Three Months Later
The Dutchman castle was crawling with people. Some were photographers, some were celebrities, some were rich stockholders like Asher himself, and some were just skimpily clad girls looking to capitalize on their hotness.
So basically, it was like any other Dutchman party.
Asher flashed his invite as he entered, heading for the gardens. He strolled in, put his hands in his tuxedo pockets, and surveyed the area. An enormous draped awning had been set over one portion of the gardens, and the rest was open-air tables nestled snugly on the cobblestone patio that encircled the enormous swimming pool. The pool itself was covered in huge floats shaped like diamonds and blow-up swans. Tacky, but again, typical for a Dutchman party. Each table had wooden folding chairs, a floral centerpiece, and creamy white tablecloths edged with black ribbon. The party was a strange mixture of classy and tawdry. For example, the table settings were gorgeous, but strolling between them were the unmistakable Dutchman girls, carrying flutes of champagne.
One wandered up to him with a tray in her hands. Her wench costume was cut so low that her breasts were bare and spilled out, and the skirt barely covered her thong. She wore the sky-high wooden shoes that were the Dutchman brand, along with the white cap. And she gave him an interested smile that looked as if he were her prey. “Can I get you anything? Drink? Lap candy?” She winked at him.