Page 68 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

Me: Beautiful

Sugar Plum: Don’t even. I look like an exhausted pigeon.

Me: But a beautiful exhausted pigeon ;)

Sugar Plum: I have to work now. I will talk to you later.

Me: Bye, Twinkle Toes.

I stuck my phone in my pocket and walked into my dad’s office to find him looking at me over his fingertips with a glint in his eyes. He and my mom had both been thrilled when I told them Haven was here in California.

They’d wanted me to bring her over for dinner right away, but I didn’t want to overwhelm Haven that much yet. I knew they’d ask her question after question and be way too overenthusiastic about everything, so I figured waiting a bit for that moment was better.

“How’s Haven?”

“Tired, but good. The premiere this weekend has them all working double time to get everything perfect. Especially Haven. She puts a lot of pressure on herself,” I replied as I sat in the chair on the other side of his desk.

We were both working from the packhouse instead of in one of our offices in the city. He’d said he had something confidential to discuss with me, which usually meant pack business. The best part about working from the packhouse was that I could dress down, so today I was in jeans, a black T-shirt, and some Nikes.

“What did we need to discuss?” I asked, getting straight to business.

I wanted to get everything taken care of quickly so I could spend time with Haven in the evening after stopping by Jack and Shirley’s with her. She would be tired, but we didn’t need to do anything crazy. I’d be fine just staying in with her for the evening and watching a movie or something.

My dad tossed a manila folder across the desk to me.

“Is this—”

“Yes,” he answered before I could finish.

I snatched it up and began reading it, flipping through the pages, hoping to find something incriminating within them.

My brows furrowed as I scanned the documents, then I went back and started at the beginning, looking at everything with more attention and care.

“How is this possible?” I growled after I’d read through everything at least twice.

I’d spread out all the pages on my dad’s desk in front of me. There weren’t as many as I had thought there would be, and none of them held what I hoped for.

“That’s what they found.”

“Nothing? You’re telling me they found nothing? Not even a parking ticket or a late fee on a credit card?” I asked.

“They’re clean. Clean as a whistle.”

“Clearly they paid someone off to wipe their records or something,” I growled. “They’re lawyers, so I’m sure they know people and have the money to do that.”

“Wesley, look, I know you were hoping we would find something on Haven’s adoptive parents, but the fact is that we didn’t find anything.”

“Look harder,” I said, tossing the empty folder onto the desk.

“I can’t find something that isn’t there, Wes,” he said.

“You could if you dug deeper,” I retorted. “But let me guess—you don’t want to get your hands dirty.”

“Wesley,” he warned.

“No, I get it. You have your priorities. Once again, you’ve made that very clear.”

“That’s not it, and you know it!”

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