Prickly Romance: Single Dad AMBW (Billionaire Dads)

Prickly Romance: Chapter 1



DEJONAE

There are certain things you just don’t do in life.

Like accompany your chai obsessed, supermodel best friend to sneak in a latte behind her husband’s back.

Or drag her three-month old baby into a vicious middle school street fight.

Or immediately fall in love with a nine-year old ninja only to find out her dad is the devil himself.

But guess who did all three?

I lift a trembling finger as I stare down the man who single-handedly ruined one of the biggest nights of my life.

“You? You’re her dad?” I croak.

“That is what I said,” Ryotaro Sazuki responds in the world’s most impatient tone.

If I could find a loose stone to throw at his face, I would.

Sazuki rips his gaze away from mine. Despite his gruff voice, his touch is gentle when he cradles his daughter’s face.

I start making quick comparisons. Sazuki is tall and regal. Broad shoulders taper down to a lean waist. With his silky hair brushed back, his brown eyes and chiseled jawline reveal a chillingly sharp face. Even though he’s dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and slacks, looking every bit the under-the-radar billionaire that he is, there’s something cold and dangerous about him.

His daughter, on the other hand, is pure sunshine. Golden-brown skin, full, Cupid’s bow lips, and long curly hair that reaches almost to her tail bone. The only hint of her mixed ancestry is in the shape and tilt of her stunning brown eyes.

This really is Sazuki’s daughter.

I can’t believe the Lord allowed this man to procreate.

Sazuki mutters something in Japanese and Niko seems to understand because she nods.

Turning slightly so the sun hits his formidable cheekbones, Sazuki grunts. “What happened here?”

My jaw drops at his rudeness.

Vanya pushes her stroller forward and sets a hand on my arm. “I got this.”

She’s way too calm. And I can only assume that being a new parent has given her inestimable patience.

“We were out for a stroll,” Vanya begins, “and overheard some boys harassing someone in the alley. Dejonae ran off like Superwoman, and by the time I got here, the boys were on the ground and your daughter looked unharmed.”

Baby Ollie starts cooing like she wants to give her eyewitness account.

Sazuki inhales a deep, measured breath. His nostrils flare and, with his eyes closed, he looks more intimidating than ever.

Sazuki’s daughter glances up with a sheepish expression. She pokes her dad in the shoulder. Lips moving soundlessly, she signs, “How did you find me?”

“Akira.” Sazuki scans her face. “You were supposed to meet her at the school gate.”

Niko chews on her bottom lip and doesn’t respond.

Abruptly, Sazuki turns to us. When his eyes meet mine, he frowns in distaste.

Glad to know the feeling is mutual, jerkface.

He dips his head, still looking annoyed. “Thank you.”

“Deej did most of the rescuing.” Vanya gives me a dazzling grin.

Sazuki seems unarmed by Vanya’s smile, which is totally understandable. The plus-sized model is gorgeous. Vanya’s been rocking fashionable clothes all through her pregnancy and that hasn’t changed now that Ollie’s joined us in the real world.

Today, she’s wearing a flowing blue dress with a plunging neckline that shows off her cleavage. Her hair is slightly curled at the ends and brushes against her bare shoulders.

Sazuki finishes his little scan and then returns to scowling at me. “Thank you as well.”

Wow. Growly much? “No need to thank me. I’m glad your daughter’s okay.” Bending slightly, I sign to Niko. “It was nice to meet you.”

She grins, making her eyes collapse with happiness.

Sazuki’s shock is hidden quickly. When he looks at me this time, it’s with more than just disdain. He hesitates, mouth opening and closing before he comes to some kind of internal conclusion. Hands steady on Niko’s shoulders, he steers his daughter away.

Niko stops him with a slight touch on his arm and I make note of how he leans down to watch her. One of my sister’s biggest frustrations growing up was not being heard when she had something to say. I can tell that Sazuki and his daughter are close by how in-tune he is to her needs.

He’s still a major douche-canoe.

But he’s not a… horrible dad.

“I want her to come with me,” Niko signs.

The scowl that crawls over Sazuki’s face is ten times darker than before. “No.”

Niko pushes out her bottom lip.

Vanya inches the baby stroller toward me and peers at the father-daughter duo. “What are they saying?”

“Niko wants one of us to go with them.”

“Go where?”

“Don’t know.”

“And which one of us?”

“I’m not sure. She didn’t specify.”

Just then, Sazuki’s sharp gaze swings to me and I swear, it’s like he’s impaling me with his eyes.

Vanya clears her throat. “I think I have an idea which one of us he doesn’t want, but look… his daughter is pointing to you. I think she wants you, Deej.”

“I’m not going anywhere with him.”

“Why not? He’s cute.”

“Cute isn’t the right word,” I mutter. Sazuki’s too sharp. Too angular. Too intense.

“You’re right. Sexy is a better word, I think.”

“Aren’t you married?”

“What are you? The marriage police?” She snorts.

I scowl.

“Deej, I’m married. Not blind. And I’m not looking for me. I’m thinking of you. You and Sazuki can clear up whatever happened at the gala.”

“I’m never forgiving him for what he did at the gala.”

“What exactly did he do to you?” Vanya asks.

“Throwing me off his keyboard wasn’t a big enough infraction for you?”

“I meant, what did he say?

I shake my head. “All you need to know is that he’s rude and obnoxious and not worth my time.”

Niko’s hands are still moving at warp speed. Sazuki watches intently.

“Did you know that Sazuki’s daughter was deaf?” Vanya whispers while the two fight it out.

“I don’t think anyone knew he had a daughter.”

Vanya pulls the shade a little further over Baby Ollie, who’s starting to fuss. “You know he comes from a line of super famous, super rich, super mysterious musicians, right?”

“I’m familiar with the Sazuki family,” I respond dryly. Anyone with classical music training would have studied them at one point or another.

Vanya peers at Ollie. “I wonder if the reason Sazuki stayed out of the spotlight, maybe even the reason he’s moving permanently to the US, has anything to do with his kid.”

“It’s none of our business either way.” I bend over the stroller and coo, “Isn’t that right, Ollie? Tell your nosy mama to butt out.”

Vanya and Hadyn’s three-month-old stops crying long enough to grant me a befuddled expression.

A sound of abject frustration comes from behind me. I check over my shoulder and see Niko pushing her dad my way. Sazuki’s almost digging his feet into the sand to keep from coming over.

“I wonder why she wants you to go with her?” Vanya muses.

“Probably because I understand her.”

“That simple?”

“Imagine how black travelers feel when they see another black tourist in a foreign country. It’s like you know them and they know you even though you’re strangers. The deaf community is kind of like that.”

Vanya suddenly looks away. “Oh shoot. He’s almost here. Act natural.”

I roll my eyes.

Sazuki stops in front of us. He inhales a deep breath that fills his whole chest and then leaks out a resigned sigh.

“Are you busy?”

I keep my arms loose at my sides. “Yes.”

“She’s not. She’s very un-busy.” Vanya nudges me forward with her elbow.

I shoot a dark glare over my shoulder.

What are you doing?” I hiss.

“Ollie’s getting fussy. We’ll head back home so I can put her down for a nap.” Vanya juts her chin at Sazuki and Niko. Her long, dangling earrings brush against dark cheeks. “Go with them.”

“What about chai?” I ask, knowing it’s her weakness.

She hesitates but not for long. “We’ll grab chai another time.”

“I’m sorry.” I frown at Sazuki because the last place I want to be is alone with him. Even if he comes with an adorable daughter. “I’m supposed to be Vanya’s bodyguard. She gave birth a few months ago and she hasn’t really recovered yet. I should make sure she gets home safely.”

“That is fine with me,” Sazuki says in his crisp accent. He tries to take his daughter’s hand.

Niko pulls away, looks imploringly at me, and rubs a circle on her chest.

It’s the sign for ‘please’.

Must resist.

Must…

“Okay.”

Niko jumps happily.

Vanya grins so wide I’m surprised her cheeks don’t pop off her face.

“You’ll pay for this,” I whisper as I pass her by.

She winks and waves goodbye before she and Baby Ollie go traipsing in the opposite direction.

“What’s your name?” Niko signs.

“Dejonae.” I sign each letter slowly. “But you can call me Deej.”

“Niko.” She gestures.

“Pretty name,” I answer with my mouth instead of my hands.

She beams, confirming her lip-reading aptitude.

We walk to Sazuki’s fancy SUV. The thing is built like a tank. Sazuki opens the back door and gestures bluntly. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are on anything but me. The tension in his body suggests that he is not a fan of this plan.

You think I want to be here, you grumpasourus?

Although every bone in my body is telling me not to go anywhere with him, I climb in.

The car smells like him, minty and expensive. I’m surprised to find the passenger seat empty. The first time I met Sazuki, he had a small platoon of bodyguards following him around.

Niko scrambles in after me and locks the door. For a second, I have a mild panic attack.

What if this is their act?

What if they’re a father-daughter team of con artists?

What if I’m their next victim?

Then I realize I’m being ridiculous.

Sazuki is a billionaire with an incredible and extravagant family background. If he has to con poor college students for cash, then the entire world is doomed.

Niko slides into the seat right next to me. Her eyes are brilliant even though the light is dim thanks to the tinted windows.

“Where are we going?” I ask her, keeping my face turned to hers so she can read my lips easily.

She runs her fingers sideways, back and forth, as if there’s a piano right in front of her.

I dance my fingers over imaginary keys. “Piano lessons? That’s so cool.”

Sazuki clears his throat. “Seatbelt, Niko.”

She struggles with the belt and I lean over to clasp her in.

“Thank you,” Niko signs.

“Welcome.”

Sazuki starts the car before I’ve buckled up. I guess I know which one of our lives he values more.

Jerk.

“How do you know how to sign?” Sazuki growls at me.

I translate his question for Niko.

Her smile gets wider and she nods.

“My sister is deaf,” I say out loud. “She’s also a model.” Well, an aspiring model. But being in the local Macy’s catalogue totally counts in my books.

Sazuki makes a left turn. “Is that how you know Miss Beckford?”

“It’s Mrs. Mulliez now and—” I realize I haven’t translated his words for Niko and quickly rectify that. “Your dad asked me how I know my friend,” I sign.

Sazuki glares at me. “She can see what I am saying.”

“How?” My eyebrows pull tight. “She can’t read your lips if you’re driving and she’s in the backseat.”

I hear a tap-tap and drag my attention back to Niko. One sneakered foot is pointing to a screen that’s embedded in the back of the chair. I hadn’t noticed it when I slid into the car. The screen shows the lower half of Sazuki’s face, starting at the bridge of his sharp nose, his small but full lips and ending at his chin.

“Whoa. Is that forwarding the feed in real time?”

“It is,” Sazuki says.

Pulling out my phone to snap a picture so I can show Yaya later, I ask, “Who came up with that idea?”

“My dad,” Niko signs.

It’s too late to look unimpressed.

“Hm,” I say, trying my best to reverse the ego-stroking.

Sazuki slows for a red light. His eyes meet mine in the rear-view mirror. One corner of his lips hitches up in a ghost smile and…

Dimples.

Two of them.

My heart flails.

Dimples that big and cute do not belong on a man who looks like he could slay as the star of a samurai action movie.

I quickly glance away.

Get ahold of yourself, Dejonae.

My attention snags on Niko’s comic book. I tug it from the middle of the chair. “What’s this?”

She snatches it from me and hides it against her shirt.

Sazuki’s half-grin fades, replaced with a parental look of censure. “Her favorite comic book.”

“Let me guess.” I tap my chin. “Echo?”

“What’s Echo?”

Who’s Echo,” I correct Sazuki. “She’s a Marvel superhero.”

“Superhero?” Niko signs.

“She’s deaf and a great fighter.” I frown, slightly perturbed by their confusion. “You don’t know who Echo is?”

“No.”

“But she’s deaf.”

“Am I supposed to know all the deaf superheroes?” Sazuki fires back.

I do.” I lift my chin proudly. “I searched them all up. It was important to me that my sister see how capable she can be.”

“By introducing fictional characters to her?”

“You had better role models?”

“Chisato Minamimura. Ayumi Hamasaki.” He pauses. “Even Beethoven.”

“I actually recognize that one.”

Niko giggles.

The ghost smile on Sazuki’s face is fleeting. “We do not have to look to fictional creations for encouragement.”

“I disagree. I don’t think anyone should be limited by what’s already been done. When we look at fictional characters, they aren’t bound by physical rules or fear or even history. These heroes are the very essence of what someone can accomplish without limits.”

“These ‘heroes’ are also not real,” he insists.

“And Beethoven’s dead. What’s your point?”

“Yes, but he lived.”

“And who’s to say there’s not a deaf crime-fighting ninja out there, kicking the butts of drug lords and kingpins? We don’t know. Anything is possible.”

Niko giggles and shyly slides the comic book over to me.

Last Game?” I read the name on the cover. It’s got a sketch of a couple holding hands. “This… wait, this looks like a romance.”

Niko signs something I don’t understand.

I scrunch my nose in confusion. “Can you say that again?”

She signs, “M-a-n-g-a.”

“Manga?”

Her little head bob is both quick and adorable.

“I’ve told her to stop reading that trash,” Sazuki mumbles.

Niko isn’t even looking at the screen when she signs, “My dad calls it trash, but it’s really good.”

“You are not dating until you are married,” Sazuki admonishes. “There is no need for such books.”

I exchange a look with Niko.

The little girl rolls her eyes like she was raised by a black woman.

“Niko will return the book tomorrow.” Sazuki lowers his head so both his eyes and mouth get caught on camera. “And you will apologize to Akira for making her worry.”

Niko glances down, feeling the weight of her father’s censure.

I decide not to take up for her in front of her dad. Anything I say probably won’t help since Sazuki hates me anyway.

Instead, I slide the book back to Niko and sign, “Tell me all about your favorite stories. I’ll check them out for you.”

She brightens and bobs her head enthusiastically.

Sazuki watches me suspiciously through the rear-view mirror, but I smile innocently. This is between me and his daughter. What he doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt him.

“Hi, Niko!” An overly cheerful woman with big eyes, limp purple hair and a nose ring pops in front of us like an extra in a horror movie.

I launch back, yelping.

Niko’s laughter peels out over the hollowed halls of Terrence Holler Music Academy.

It’s a pretentious name for what is basically a rich people’s after-school center.

Vaulted ceilings, chandeliers, and detailed wooden finishings remind me of an old church. The students are all wearing private school uniforms, complete with preppy skirts and sweater vests.

The adults look equally stuffy. My sneakers, crop top and high-waisted jeans are out of place amidst their sharp pencil skirts, pumps and panty hoses.

Who even wears panty hoses anymore?

Sazuki gives me a scolding look for yelling.

I curb the urge to stick my tongue out at him. He’s lucky my parents raised me to be somewhat of a respectful member of society.

Purple Hair slants me a blank stare. “And you are?”

“She’s my friend. Deej,” Niko signs.

“I see.” Purple Hair does not look impressed.

Sazuki wears his perpetually annoyed face when he says, “We apologize for the imposition. Niko insisted.”

“I want her to stay,” Niko signs.

Sazuki gestures to me. “I hope you do not mind if Miss Dajon—”

“It’s Dee-jonae. Deej. Not Daj—”

“—If this woman,” Sazuki cuts me off, “sits in on Niko’s piano lessons.”

Every muscle in my body tenses. Did this man just cut me off?

Niko grabs my arm and drags me down the hallway, saving Sazuki from—at minimum, a tongue lashing and at most, a swift kick in the groin.

We gain speed as we turn the bend. Niko’s curly hair flairs behind her and, I can’t lie, my inner child bursts out.

Musical instruments blare from every room. Violins, cellos and flutes. A cacophony of beautiful, musical chaos.

We skid to a stop in front of an empty room. The sounds bleed into silence. The room’s got thick soundproof walls and lots of overhead lights. I inhale deeply, loving the scent of sheet music and instrument oil.

Niko shows off a grand piano. It looks exactly like the one Sazuki brought into the Belle’s Beauty gala—the one he pushed my hand away from before he whispered in my ear and made everything inside me freeze.

“Is this yours?” I ask.

Niko grins, her head tilted and her eyes shining.

“Can you play?” I sign.

Niko takes the bench and pats the seat next to it.

When I start to move in, Purple Hair and Sazuki arrive.

“That’s my seat!” Purple Hair blurts out before my butt can touch the cushion.

I freeze, mid-stoop.

“Sorry.” Her puff of laughter lacks sincerity. Edging behind the music stool, she clasps her hands together. “The professional sits there. Not just anyone can teach, you know.”

What is your problem?

“Right,” I say coldly.

We exchange places. I stand behind Niko and her teacher, while Sazuki leans against the door and watches everything with his shrewd eyes.

“Niko,” Purple Hair signs, “you remember what we did last week?”

Niko bounces her head.

“Let’s begin.”

The teacher sets the metronome on top of the piano desk. Leaning forward, she taps out the beat on Niko’s leg while the little girl reads the music.

Niko plays expertly, hitting all the right notes. Unfortunately, she’s a little behind the beat.

“No, no, no.” Purple Hair shakes her head. “Niko, we’ve been over this. You need to feel the timing. Feel it.”

Niko gives her a frustrated look.

“Let’s go again.”

Sazuki’s phone rings while Niko and the teacher start from the top. He leaves the classroom to answer.

Free from his overwhelming presence, I start to relax.

Niko’s light brown fingers sail across the keys. She’s incredibly talented. There’s a youthful, passionate expression to her music. She reminds me so much of my sister. Both of them are determined, talented, and capable of doing anything they set their minds to.

Niko hits a bad note. Her nose scrunch says she knows what she did wrong, but the teacher still points it out to her.

“You were supposed to go to A#,” Purple Hair says with barely hidden annoyance.

Niko signs, “I know.”

“She’s probably nervous because I’m here,” I say, trying to smooth it over.

“That is exactly why I don’t allow visitors in class. She needs to focus and she can’t play her best with an audience.”

Keep quiet, Deej.

Don’t start a fuss.

This isn’t your place…

“She’s going to have to play in front of an audience eventually,” I argue.

Purple Hair swivels in her seat as if she’d been waiting for a chance to fight me. “Learning in front of an audience and performing in front of an audience are two different things.”

“You have to start somewhere.”

“Ma’am,” Purple Hair speaks in her best, I’m about to call your manager tone, “if you can’t remain calm and quiet during our session, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

I scoff. Who exactly does she think she is?

Rather than let the tiger jump out of me, I glance at Niko and calm myself. After a deep breath, I respond in a similarly condescending manner.

Ma’am, if you can’t convey the point of your lesson without getting impatient and snappy at your student, maybe you should pursue a different line of work.”

Red steals into her cheeks. Her eyebrows join in the center of her forehead. “Maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” I fire back.

Purple Hair half-rises from her chair.

Niko, sensing the tension in the air, turns too. Her beautiful eyes lock on my face. There’s a wrinkle between her arched eyebrows and a tightness to her lips that signals discomfort.

She doesn’t understand what’s happening and we haven’t been speaking slowly enough for her to read our lips.

A twinge of remorse hits my chest.

I shouldn’t be starting fights in front of children.

Feeling slightly ashamed that I lost my temper, I bend to Niko’s level. “It’s okay, sweetie. Your teacher and I are just having a discussion about… Mozart.”

Purple Hair flares her nostrils, but her voice is still that sickly-sweet tone. “Who exactly are you again?”

“I’m just a friend.”

“Well, Miss Friend, are you a licensed music teacher?”

“No.”

“And,” her eyelashes flutter non-stop, “do you have a Bachelor’s Degree in ASL?”

“No.” I shuffle my feet.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t speak on things you don’t understand.”

“Your methods are flawed. You shouldn’t be so defensive when people point it out.”

She gestures to Niko. “Since you’re so full of advice, would you like to take my position?”

“I would actually.”

Her eyes widen. She didn’t expect me to agree.

Too bad.

I never back down from a challenge.

Ever.

I approach the piano. Purple Hair doesn’t move out of the way at first and I have to wedge myself between her and Niko.

Niko shifts nervously. “I’m sorry I can’t play it better,” she signs.

“It’s okay.”

“Look, you’re wasting our time—”

“Shush.” I lift a hand at Purple Hair.

Her gasp of outrage barely penetrates my focus. While silence settles, I flip open my purse and search for the modified headphones I always carry around. Next, I pull out my phone.

“What are you doing?”

I ignore the question.

“Do you think she’s going to hear anything on those headphones?”

I ignore that too.

“She’s deaf!

I sync the headphones with my cell and open the metronome app. The steady tic-tic-tick chants in my ear. Good.

Niko gives me an uncertain look when I slide the headphones over her ribs.

“Do you feel that?” I ask.

She pauses. Her eyes fall closed and I can sense the way she gets in-tuned to her body. After a few seconds, Niko nods.

“Good.” I take her hand and set it on the piano. “Try again.”

Niko plays with uncertainty. Purple Hair grins in delight when she falters. I pretend the aggravating woman isn’t in the room and keep my hand on Niko’s, coaching her through the music until she gets better at the timing.

“That’s right.” A smile inches over my face when she falls into the pocket of the rhythm. “Niko, that’s perfect.”

Niko’s eyes light up and she gives me a hug. I wrap my arms around her back, squishing the headphones into her stomach by mistake.

She makes a pained grunt.

I wrench backward. “Sorry. Sorry.”

She laughs and waves my apology off.

Plucking the headphones away, I turn to the teacher. “When one of our senses is impaired, we rely more heavily on the others. But what people often miss is that we also rely on our gut instincts. The spider-sense, if you will.” I wave the headphones around. “You’re tapping her leg to help her keep the time, but your timing is off.”

“What?”

“You’re playing a little ahead of the metronome.”

Shame burns her cheeks red and she glances away.

“But even if you were directly on time, it can’t replace feeling. Niko’s got great instincts. Let her trust it.”

Purple Hair huffs and opens her mouth to answer when a voice rumbles, “Interesting.”

We both turn around.

I’m shocked to see Sazuki standing in the doorway. He’s watching me with hawk eyes.

I lick my suddenly dry lips. “How long have you been standing there?”

He stares me down, refusing to answer.

My cell phone chimes.

It’s an alarm I set to remind me of my next class.

I jump to my feet. “I need to go.”

Niko pouts.

“I have a graduation project I need to prepare for,” I say apologetically to her. “But I’d love to hang out again.”

Purple Hair gestures to the door. “Goodbye.”

Jeez.

I stalk past Sazuki, but I’m not rude enough to leave without at least acknowledging him.

Careening to a stop, I tear off a piece of paper from the notebook in my bag and scribble on it. “This is my number if Niko wants to get in touch with me.”

He takes the number without a word.

Okay then.

I smile at Niko once more, shoot another glare at Purple Hair—who returns it, and leave Sazuki behind.

It’s strange, but I swear I feel his gaze burning into my back long after I’m gone.


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