Grumpy Romance : A Romantic Comedy (Billionaire Dads)
Grumpy Romance: Chapter 16

HOLLAND

Kenya jots notes in a small, wired notebook. A studious wrinkle forms between her eyebrows.

On the scale of one to stunning, she’s a perfect ten of a distraction. Especially when she’s in work mode.

The presentation changes on the screen. I only know because the colors across Kenya’s face shifts from red to blue. The way her brown skin absorbs the hue leaves my mouth dry.

She’s gloriously put-together this morning. The shirt buttoned to her neck and the long black pencil skirt must be intentional. Her attempt to dress down is a giant failure. This woman is a natural beauty. Makeup. Fancy clothes. She doesn’t need any of it.

In fact, I’d prefer if she didn’t have any clothes on.

My fingers tingle. I want to free her curls from that tight bun and watch it expand and expand until it touches the sun. I want to bury my face in her chest and kiss my way down until she—

Ezekiel taps me on the elbow like a miserable prep school principal.

I shoot him an aggravated glance and he returns it with a scowl.

After dropping Kenya home last night, my executive assistant was moodily silent for the rest of the ride. I didn’t mind. A lecture from Ezekiel would have spoiled an otherwise great night.

But I should have known silence would lead to action.

Ezekiel is attending a Belle’s Beauty meeting even though his presence is not required. Given the scolding look he’s flashing my way, he’s here on a mission to keep me in check.

As if anyone can keep my raging desire for Miss Jones in line.

I tried and failed.

Ezekiel doesn’t have a flying fig of a chance.

“Mr. Alistair?” The marketing director glances at me. “Do you agree with these choices?”

I slap my folder closed and stare at Kenya. “Yes. I like what I’m seeing. ”

Kenya shoots me a curious look.

The rest of the room shuffles.

The marketing director stammers, “I’m sorry, Mr. Alistair. Did you say you… actually… like it?”

“Yes.” My tone drops. “I like it a lot.”

Kenya finally catches my drift. Her eyes widen in realization. Just as quickly, they narrow in annoyance.

Damn. Will I ever tire of her fire?

She quickly glances away.

“We’ll go with that.” I rise to my feet. The chair skates back from the movement. Buttoning my suit with one hand, I gesture to Kenya with the other. “Let Baby Box know of our choice and get the production team started on the samples. We’ll need to be ready for the New Year’s issue.”

She nods. “Understood.”

“Meeting’s over.” I glance at each of the team members. “You all know what to do. No one goes home until this order is placed.”

They grumble under their breath. Some of them try to smile. Others barely manage a grimace.

I have them working on a Saturday. To most of them, I’m public enemy number one. But the Baby Box deal is a necessary accelerant for Belle’s Beauty. We have to fit in the project amidst our regular end-of-the-year promotions and product launches.

“Good work, everyone,” I say.

Twelve pairs of frightened eyes swing to me.

No one moves.

Eyebrows tightening, I freeze too.

The marketing director quivers. “S-sir?”

“I said good work.” Annoyance bristles the back of my spine. Why is everyone acting so surprised?

A big, gleaming smile unfolds on the director’s face. “Thank you.” He blinks rapidly. “Thank you.”

I lean back, confused.

The team starts to perk up. Frustrated smiles turn genuine and everyone eagerly darts for the door. Kenya is at the front of the crowd.

“Not you, Miss Jones,” I bark.

Her heels skid so fast on the carpet I see a plume of smoke.

“I need a word,” I murmur.

She whirls around, her eyes sharpening. “Regarding?”

I motion for her to come closer.

Ezekiel clears his throat again. “Alistair, might I remind you that you have a conference call regarding the software licensing deal?”

“I’ll be there, Ezekiel.” I wave him out.

His eyes darken in disapproval.

I arch a brow.

Growling under his breath, he prowls away after giving Kenya a squeeze on the shoulder. I roll my eyes at his theatrics. He’s so obvious about his new loyalties. I should cut his pay for that.

“You shouldn’t tick off the man who makes the best coffee in the building,” Kenya warns.

I lean against the desk. “He’s being overprotective.”

“Of you?”

“No.” I jut my chin out at her.

She laughs. “Ezekiel knows I can handle myself.”

“But he also knows,” I take her hand and pull her toward me, “how persistent I can be. Especially when I meet resistance.”

A smile flits across her gorgeous face. She tamps it down and replaces it with a frown. “You shouldn’t be like this.”

“Like what?” I murmur, dragging her to stand between my legs.

My body salutes her nearness. I let my nose hover against her smooth neck and inhale her wildly intoxicating scent. She’s wearing that perfume again. I need to make a note of it and buy her a year’s supply.

“Alistair,” she breathes.

An electric tingle flares through me.

“That’s not my name.”

She blinks rapidly. “I have work to do.”

“Say my name and I’ll let you go.”

She purses her lips.

To prove my point, I lock my hands around her waist and paste her body against mine. She’s warm to the touch. Softer than any woman has a right to be.

I want to keep her right here against me for the rest of my life.

She squirms. “What if someone sees?”

“Ezekiel is probably guarding the door,” I whisper.

She stops struggling and tilts her face up.

I touch her cheek reverently. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“My dad called this morning. He wants to have lunch with me.”

“You think he wants to talk about the wedding?”

“I don’t know.” Her shoulders slump. “He’s been weirdly silent about the whole thing.”

“Do you guys normally go weeks on end without talking?”

“Sometimes.” A sigh slips from her plump lips. “I know he and Felice have discussed it. And Sasha’s clearly in touch with them, so he’s heard her side of the story. With all that’s going on, I thought he would reach out and check on me. You know? Since I’m his biological daughter.”

I frown. “You and the cheater are step-sisters?”

“I don’t see her as a step-sister.” Kenya is a little too quick to point out. “We’re really close.”

“Is that why she did what she did?”

Her lips disappear into her mouth.

I touch her chin until they reappear. “What are you going to tell your dad when you see him?”

This time, when she sighs, she looks weary.

“Your sister was wrong. Everyone in the family should be turning against her. Why are you afraid of what they’ll say to you?”

“It’s not about right or wrong. It’s about her health.” Kenya glances away. “Sasha was… sick when we were teenagers. There’s always a chance the cancer could come back. Nobody wants to see that.”

“So it’s your job to swallow your hurt and pain for her sake? That’s ridiculous!”

“Now you sound like Sunny.” Her lips twitch.

“Tell me what you want. Any form of revenge you need, I’ll get it done. Quietly.”

“I’m not going to put out a hit on my sister, Alistair.”

“Holland.”

Her nose scrunches.

“You need to say my name if you want to be free.”

“Ew.”

I blink, astonished. “Did you just say ‘ew’?”

“I’m not calling you that. It’s weird.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s your first name.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you expressed disgust at the name my parents painstakingly chose for me. And I’m also going to ignore the fact that you indirectly insulted all the people who live in Holland.”

“That’s another thing. It’s the name of a country.”

I chuckle. “Kenya is also the name of a country.”

“True.” She smiles and it’s so disarming that I almost lose my breath. “You love being right, don’t you?”

“It’s not that I love it. I’m just rarely wrong.”

“Humility is a virtue, Alistair.”

My phone starts ringing.

“It’s not bragging when it’s true.” I bury my nose in her neck and rock back and forth.

She pushes me. “That’s probably Ezekiel.”

“Ignore it.”

“We have work to do.” There’s laughter in her tone. I relish that.

With a groan, I let my arms fall away from her. “You win. This time.”

“Get used to accepting defeat.” She winks.

I capture her hand before she can walk out. “Hey.”

She stops. Glances over her shoulder.

“I appreciate you being honest about your family situation. Thank you for trusting me.”

Her breath hitches.

I bring her fingers to my lips and kiss her palm. “Now get out of here before I change my mind about letting you go.”

She doesn’t waste a second. Kicking up her heels, Miss Jones flees the conference room.

I chuckle at her skittishness. That woman has no idea how much I like a challenge. She’s fighting her feelings for me, and I don’t have a problem teasing it out of her.

Smirking, I stride out of the conference room.

Ezekiel joins me, his face harried and his eyes narrowed. “Are you going to make that a habit?”

“What?”

“Sneaking away with Miss Jones?” He shuffles behind me.

“I plan to.”

“Alistair.”

“We might have to get blinds for my office. That frosted glass is not going to work anymore.”

“Are you insane?” he hisses.

I pat his shoulder. “Didn’t you say I had a conference call?”

My phone rings again.

It’s Darrel.

I pick up. “I’m busy.”

“Give me a slot of your precious schedule.”

“Are you asking or telling?” I bark.

His tone softens. “Sorry. I was asking.”

“You okay?” It’s unlike him to be so tense. He’s a man of few words and even fewer facial expressions. Although he has the mug of someone who couldn’t be bothered, he rarely snaps at people.

“I’ve got a client who’s not answering the phone. She was being treated at my clinic and she’s got two kids…”

I frown. “You need me to send Bernard? He can help with whatever it is.”

“No, I’ll handle it. I’m just worried. I hope the kids are okay.”

“Why? You think she’ll hurt them?”

“I can’t discuss that with you, Alistair.” He sighs.

“But you brought it up.”

“Maybe I’m overthinking it. She missed the last two sessions. Something doesn’t feel right.”

“I hope you figure it out, Darrel.”

“Thanks.” He clears his throat. “Get back to work. I’ll come see you tomorrow when you’re free.”

“I’m working tomorrow too.”

He sounds astonished. “When do you sleep?”

“When the work is done.”

Ezekiel capers to me. We’re running low on time.

“I’ll be at Belle’s Beauty tomorrow. Text me before you head out.”

“I will.”

Ezekiel wrings his hands. “Does your brother-in-law know about…” Eyes darting around, Ezekiel whispers, “you know who?”

“He does.”

“And he approves?”

“Yes.”

Ezekiel looks stunned.

“Darrel believes that falling for someone else will help me—”

“I meant, he approves of letting you loose on an innocent woman?”

I scowl at him. “If this is your way of turning in your resignation, I won’t accept it. You’re stuck with me.”

“Darrel is usually more objective.”

“Not when it comes to his brain-science-kumbaya theories.”

“Hmph.”

I open the door to my office. “Oh, Ezekiel, would you make a cup of coffee…”

“Of course.”

“… And send it to Miss Jones? She loves your brew.”

He slaps a hand to his forehead and groans. “Is that what I’ve become? An errand boy for your secret love affair?”

“Remember she likes it as sweet as me.”

“Then she must like it bitter.”

I frown. “You have something to say, Ezekiel?”

“Not at all.” He shakes his head.

“Spit it out.”

“You’re not going to listen anyway.”

“You’re right. But you can at least play along. It’s more fun that way.”

“It seems Miss Jones has elevated taste in coffee.” Ezekiel tuts at me. “And such disappointing taste in men.”

I scowl at him.

He lifts a hand, his poise intact. “I’ll bring the coffee over to her at once.”

“You’ve been getting really snappy lately.”

“Call me if you need anything, Alistair.”

“Hey!”

He ignores me.

“Don’t forget who…” the door slams shut, “signs your paychecks.”

I’m alone.

I purse my lips and then chuckle.

There’s still… I check my watch… a couple minutes until the call. I pull up my email and start typing.

To: Kenya Jones

From: Holland Alistair

Subject: Coffee Instruction

————-

Dear Miss Jones,

Ezekiel will be stopping by with a coffee for you to observe and analyze. I’d like you to think of me when the flavor hits your tongue as I expect a similar experience when you supply my coffee going forward.

I’m sure you are aware of how pertinent caffeine is to running my business and, since you are now my main supplier of java, I would like to underline the importance of this task.

If you moan, I would like to hear about it.

If you lick your lips, I would like to see it.

Yes, this time I am requesting an in-person report because an experience like this cannot be read about, despite your exquisite story-telling skills.

This report is expected by midnight tonight where I will personally quiz you on all the ways your mouth can experience pleasure. I’m eager for your feedback.

Until then, regards.

Holland Alistair

Fine Industries CEO

I don’t care if I get a response. Just thinking about her reaction fills me to the brim.

Sadly, I’ll have to wait until my appointment is done before I can check my inbox.

Two hours later, I arch my back and push away from the desk. The licensing deal for Fine Industries is coming along well. I was averse to taking my hands off the steering wheel at first, but I’m feeling better about the license play.

Belle is growing up too fast. It burns me every time I have to deal with a business emergency over spending time with her.

As soon as Fine Industries starts sharing the load, I can start to take my foot off the gas. I’ll finally have time to take her out on picnics and to the zoo. I’ll even brave those massively cheesy indoor playgrounds with the germ-filled ball pits for her.

And maybe I’ll invite Kenya along. Introduce her to Belle. See how they click.

And maybe…

A ping from my phone jerks me out of the fantasy.

It’s an alert from my email.

To: Holland Alistair

From: Kenya Jones

Subject: Be Careful Or You Might Choke

————-

Dear Mr. Alistair,

I received the coffee from Ezekiel. As per your instruction, I reviewed it and made notes as to your taste and preference.

Unfortunately, I realize that the coffee was extremely hot and, in the future, it may prove a hazard as I can imagine it splashing on a very sensitive part of you and burning it to a crisp.

Also, the sweetness of the brew might cause you to overindulge. You might find yourself choking or even knocked out on the floor from trying to move too fast too soon.

Please note that an in-person report is not required. I will be out of the office with the rest of the production team as we convince the factory to make room for us in their production schedule. This task is quite a challenge as they are not interested in accommodating our Baby Box launch.

Thank you for that, by the way. I could think of no greater use of my Saturday. I’m truly grateful to have such a machine of a boss.

Regards,

Kenya Jones

Sales Manager for Baby Box

I laugh so hard that Ezekiel bursts into the room.

When he sees that I’m just pointing at my email, he rolls his eyes and backs out.

I read the email again.

Kenya Jones is a freaking delight. She stirs me up in ways no one has before.

I don’t want to click away from that message, but I force myself to get back to work. She’s made herself clear, and I think I’ll be pushing it if I keep going after her today.

A knock on the door breaks my concentration.

It’s Ezekiel.

“Sutherburg from Baby Box just called. He wants to know when would be convenient.”

“For our biggest client?” I check my watch. “He could come now if he wanted.”

“Should I inform him?”

I nod. Baby Box is the stepping stone to greatness that Belle’s Beauty has been looking for. We’re already receiving a deluge of partnership offers. Starting off with a brand as prestigious as Baby Box was the right move.

I rub my eyes and massage my back. It’s embarrassing to admit, but maybe I’ll have to invest in one of those orthopedic office chairs. It’s better to use gadgets for the elderly than to ruin my back and look like one before my time.

Three knocks sound at the door.

I glance up in surprise. “Come in.”

“Mr. Alistair.” Sutherburg charges into the room like we’re long-lost cousins meeting up at the annual Christmas dinner. “How have you been?”

I frown at his exuberance. “Sutherburg.”

My voice is cold, but that doesn’t seem to tamp down his brilliant smile. He tugs a red scarf off his neck and perches himself in my sofa like it’s a guesthouse.

Annoyance crawls over my spine, but I let it go with a deep breath. Customer service isn’t reserved for our sales clerks and admin department. It’s my job to keep Belle’s Beauty allies happy too.

Smoothing a hand over my jacket, I coax my expression into a less severe scowl and take the chair across from him.

“I didn’t expect you to arrive so quickly.”

“Oh, I was in the area and thought I’d stop in.” He smirks. “Is Miss Jones around?”

“Why would you need to know that?” My voice has an edge.

“No reason. No reason.” He waves away the words like they’re harmless mosquitos. “I’m checking up on our star player for the January subscription.”

“We’re preparing as quickly as we can.”

“I’ll say. I was stunned when your assistant told me you were in the office on a Saturday.”

“You’re also here on official business,” I point out. There’s something in the way his eyes are darting all over that doesn’t feel right. He’s a jovial man, but he didn’t climb to his position by playing nice. “What exactly is this visit about?”

“Straight to the point, huh?” He slaps his knee. “I like that about you, Alistair. You’re all business.”

I frown at him. Flattery isn’t going to work on me.

He tugs at his tie and swallows so hard his Adam’s apple almost slaps me in the face. “The thing is, Alistair, Baby Box is really impressed by Miss Jones’s work and reputation. We heard about her quick thinking during the pre-order event and we’re also aware of her background in sales.”

“I’m well aware of Miss Jones’s strong points. It’s why I gave her the position.”

“Right. Yes. Well, we’d like to keep the collaboration between Baby Box and Belle’s Beauty going.”

“And what does this have to do with Miss Jones?” I hiss. He’s dancing around the topic and it’s frustrating.

“We… I mean I think she would be an asset to Baby Box and her skills would be more duly served in our organization.”

My lips hitch in a cruel smile. “You’re trying to steal my employee from me, Mr. Sutherburg?”

“Oh, no. No. If stealing was our goal, we would have used a talent scout and gotten through to her that way.”

Ezekiel enters the room then, a tray in his gnarled hands. He sets it on the table and shares out the coffee, giving me time to get my temper in check.

Sutherburg rubs his hands together. He slants Ezekiel a nervous nod when the cup appears in front of him. Reaching out, he wraps thick fingers around the handle and brings it to his lips.

I lean back in my seat and rest my elbow on the chair handle. “If you’d tried to sneak off with my employee, I would have come after you with guns blazing.” My head tilts to the left. “But you knew that.”

Ezekiel’s eyes go wide.

I nod at him. I’ve got this.

He returns my look with a bob of his head and leaves quietly.

I bring the coffee to my lips and drink. Taking my time setting it back on the table, I bring one leg over the other. “Mr. Sutherburg, why do I get the feeling that poaching Miss Jones and being brazen about it wasn’t your idea?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

Calmly, I take another sip of my coffee. “Walsh must have sent you.”

“He’s quite impressed by Miss Jones’s abilities.” Sutherburg plucks his collar away from his neck. I notice a flush spreading beneath the fabric. “We’re both in agreement that her skillset would be perfect for a better position at Baby Box.”

“Mr. Sutherburg, you must see how insulting this entire conversation is.”

“Insulting? Alistair, no. We’re peers. Comrades fighting for the same goal. What’s a little shift in employees? I’m sure you can find another sales manager like Miss Jones.”

“Then why don’t you find another sales manager like Miss Jones instead of trying to take my people?”

He swallows again. The flush is moving up to his cheeks now. “Mr. Alistair, I’m not here to ask your permission. This is simply a courtesy given our business relationship. Baby Box would like a long and prosperous collaboration with Belle’s Beauty. We wouldn’t want anything to endanger that.”

“Are you threatening me, Mr. Sutherburg?” I unfold my legs and press my feet into the ground. Leaning my elbows on my thighs, I look up with a dark smirk. “You don’t want to do that.”

“No. No. Of course not. No threats here. We wouldn’t dream of—”

“Miss Jones is mine.” My gaze narrows. “You can go back and tell Walsh that. And if he insists on coming after my people, I will be forced to take extreme measures. Now that is a threat.” I set the cup down. “But I’m sure it won’t get to that because neither of us want any issues. As you said, Baby Box and Belle’s Beauty should have a long and prosperous partnership.”

Sutherburg gulps.

I jut my chin at the door. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Sutherburg, I have a very packed day.”

He clamors to his feet. “I’ll relay your message accurately, Mr. Alistair.”

“Thank you.” I wave him out.

He disappears and, a few seconds later, Ezekiel trots in.

“Sutherburg looked like he crapped in his pants. What did you say to him?”

“What he needed to hear.”

“You know Baby Box can yank their support at any time. And where will that leave us? We’re already pouring money in and pressuring the production—”

“Walsh wants Kenya.”

Ezekiel’s eyes bug. “What?”

“He wants her…” My fingers stretch out and then curve into fists. “As a woman. I knew that. But now he also wants her as a business play.”

“I knew he had a reputation, but I didn’t think he was this seedy. What are you going to do?”

I rub my chin. “Tell Bernard to follow Kenya to the factory. Escort her wherever she needs to go this weekend.”

“What about you? You can’t drive.”

I release a shuddering breath. “Hire a chauffeur service.”

“I can do that for Miss Jones.”

“I want someone I trust with Kenya at all times.”

“You don’t think Walsh would do anything extreme, do you?”

“No, he’s not stupid. I just don’t want him anywhere near Kenya in case she takes him up on his offer.”

Ezekiel leans back. “Is it so bad if she goes to work for Baby Box?”

I slant him a blistering stare.

“I’m not talking about putting her in dark rooms with Walsh.” He scowls. “But… if it’s a legitimate offer, it’s not a bad deal. It’ll be easier for you two if she’s no longer your employee.”

“No.”

“The risk of getting caught is gone. In fact, you can broadcast your relationship if you want.”

“I can broadcast it now. I’m not ashamed to be caught up in that woman.”

“Yes, but for her, it’s a different story, Alistair. I’ve been working in offices all my life. Women get the shorter end of the stick in these kinds of scandals. And, for a woman as capable as Kenya Jones, it would be vastly detrimental. She’s worked hard and people are just starting to acknowledge it.”

“I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“You can’t protect her from gossip. Especially the way you’re moving.”

I run a frustrated hand through my hair.

Ezekiel steps closer to me. “You can’t have it all, Alistair. At some point, you’re going to have to make a choice. The longer you drag it out, the more people will get hurt.”

“I won’t give her up.”

“Then you better have a solid plan in case the Baby Box deal falls through. Because choosing Miss Jones might mean the end of the company.”

When I head home, I try to put the heaviness away from me so Belle won’t notice. She’s coloring with Mrs. Hansley when I walk in.

I take over from the nanny and plunk myself next to my daughter. We color together until my hands cramp and I beg her for another activity.

She punishes me with two rounds of princess movies and I’m relieved when she falls asleep in my lap before the final musical.

I will never understand these plot points. Why do characters break out into song at random moments? It’s the most unrealistic thing ever. Who feels like singing when they just got kidnapped by an evil troll?

After putting Belle to bed, I grab my cell phone and text Kenya.

Holland: Did you get home okay?

I look over the latest data pulls on my tablet, while shooting constant looks at my phone.

At last, I see a notification.

Kenya: Yes. Bernard brought coffee and sandwiches. Your idea?

Holland: Thought you might be hungry.

Kenya: Thanks.

I smile. She’s got me wrapped around her little finger. It should be scary, but it’s freaking exhilarating.

Holland: Have a good time with your dad tomorrow.

I set the cell phone away and continue with the data pull.

I’m not sure when I fall asleep, but a loud sound startles me awake. Groggily, I roll out of bed and stumble into the kitchen.

Belle is up, bright-eyed and beaming. Her long brown hair falls in limp strands to her shoulders and she bounces on the tips of her toes. “Daddy.”

“Baby girl,” I plod toward her, “what was that sound?”

She points to a book turned down on the ground. My heart stalls when I recognize our wedding album.

“Where did you find this?”

Her eyes get big and round. “Mrs. Hansley hid it under her clothes in the closet.”

I swallow hard. The nanny must have been reminiscing about Claire, especially with Belle’s constant questions about where her mother went.

“Here, sweetie.” I pull her into my lap and settle the photo album on the floor in front of us.

“This is mommy?” Belle points a little finger.

I get choked up. “Yeah. That’s your mommy.”

In the picture, Claire is beaming. Her eyes are brighter than emerald gems and her lips are curved up. Full of life. Full of promise.

“And she’s in heaven?”

I choke out a yes.

Belle pats the pages. “Can I see her?”

My eyes get teary, but I refuse to cry. “Not today, sweetheart.”

“But I want to see her,” Belle whines.

“You can’t, baby.” I think of the headstone where Claire’s remains were buried.

“I want to! I want to!” She kicks her legs and flails her arms.

“Belle.”

“I want to see her!” She shrieks. “I want to see her!”

“Stop it,” I roar.

Belle goes quiet.

I realize I shouted a little too hard and my heart breaks into pieces. “Belle, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

Her little lips trembling, she scurries away from me and runs into her room.

“Belle…”

The front door opens and Mrs. Hansley’s cheerful voice rings out. “Alistair?”

“In here.” I wearily walk out to her.

Her eyes widen when she sees me. “What happened?”

“Belle’s upset.” I release a giant breath. “I have to go to the office now.”

“Now? It’s Sunday.”

I run a hand over my face. “The faster I can get the licensing deal settled, the more time I’ll have with Belle.”

She sighs, clearly not liking my answer.

I turn away without a word and get ready. When I’m done, I pass by Belle’s room. “Belle, sweetie?” I rap my fingers on the door. “Daddy’s leaving, okay? But I’ll be back and then maybe we can go for ice cream. Huh?”

Still no response.

Defeated, I slump to the living room. Mrs. Hansley is folding Belle’s clothes on the sofa.

“I’ll take her for a little walk. Maybe she’ll feel better after getting some fresh air.”

I nod solemnly.

“She’ll be fine, Alistair.”

I take her word for it and meet Bernard downstairs.

On the way to the company, I let my mind run circles around Belle’s tantrum. How do I explain what I did to her?

A ball lumps in my throat. The only way I can face my daughter is if I get Belle’s Beauty off the ground. If I can present a healthy, flourishing company to our daughter, it’ll honor Claire’s legacy. It’s my penance. My one shot at redemption.

The company is empty when I walk in.

I pass Kenya’s office and, even with the strain of my day, a smile flits over my lips. She must be meeting with her father by now. I hope that conversation turns out better than she expects.

Being a father is tough. I can’t imagine Belle growing up and feeling like she can’t come to me with her problems.

My thoughts take a long time to settle, but I finally get focused on work.

What feels like minutes later, my phone rings.

It’s Mrs. Hansley.

I pick up. “Hello?”

“Alistair!” A frantic thread rings through her voice. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

My body instantly goes on high alert.

“I lost her.”

“What?” I jump out of my chair.

“I’m so sorry, Alistair. I turned my back for one second and…”

“Where is she? Where’s my daughter?” I growl.

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Hansley whimpers. “She disappeared.”

My heart in my throat, I fly out of my office and tear a path down the stairs.

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