Billionaire's Unexpected Bride by Alexis Winter

Author:Alexis Winter [Winter, Alexis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-03T16:00:00+00:00

8

Drake

HAVING to hold myself back and watch her walk away was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I managed it. I don’t want to come on too strong. I don’t want to scare her. She’s obviously in the middle of a mental tug-of-war. When she’s no longer in my office, I take a seat behind my desk again. My mind fills with images of the other night. Just thinking about her makes me hard. The most frustrating thing is, I was hungry for her and had a little too much to drink that night, so I don’t remember much of it. I want to do it again—burn it into my memory so it can last forever.

Harrison walks into my office and drops a file folder in front of me. “This is everything I found on Linda Hammond.”

“Thank you,” I say, shaking the dirty thoughts from my head as I lean forward to study the contents.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Not at this time. Thank you.”

He nods once, goes to take a step, but then stops.

“Is something bothering you, Harrison?”

“You and the lawyer . . .”

“Are none of your business,” I say, finishing his sentence.

“I know that, sir. But . . .”

“No buts.”

“Is there reason for me to worry? You are like a son to me, after all.”

“I’ll let you know when your opinions are needed. Until then, please, get back to work.”

He nods and finally leaves my office. I hate to make him feel unappreciated, but I really need him to mind his own business when it comes to my personal life. What Celeste and I are—or aren’t—doing is none of his concern.

Now that I have my office to myself once again, I open the file in front of me. The first page is a piece of paper with all of Linda’s employee information. Her tax papers are included. I’m guessing that’s how Harrison managed to pull all this information together. The paper trail follows her throughout her time here at the brewery and then a few towns over in Mooresville after she quit. She rented a small two-bedroom apartment when she arrived there, and took a job at a local grade school, where she became a cook. She worked in that job for four years, and at some point during her first year, she took a six-week leave. I stop reading and think. Maternity leave is usually around six weeks, but then again, so is something like FMLA. I try to find more details about her leave of absence, but there’s nothing else available.

When she left the school, she moved to Southern Florida, where she lived until the day she passed away, just a few weeks ago. Her passing could explain the sudden need for this dipshit to find my father and claim what they think is rightfully theirs. In the entire folder, there’s no mention or proof of children.

I grab my phone and call Harrison’s cell.

“Hello?” he answers.

“You didn’t find any proof of this so-called brother—or sister—of mine existing?”

“Nothing, sir.

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