Page 98 of Fiery Romance

My mouth opens. Shuts. Opens. Shuts again.

Since I woke up this morning, I’ve been thinking of exactly what I’m going to say and waiting for the right time to blurt it out.

But how do I tell my twelve-year-old I don’t hate him—that in fact I love him to death—without sounding awkward as hell?

Returning my attention to the road, I drive to HQ rather than the warehouse.

Lincoln greets me with a nod when I walk in. He sees Abe and both his eyebrows hike.

“Shouldn’t he be in school?” Lincoln mumbles.

“Don’t ask.”

Abe stalks off and disappears around the bend. I told him he didn’t have janitor duties here. As long as he stays out of trouble, he can do what he likes until we return to the warehouse.

“Is my eight o’clock here yet?”

“Mr. Porter’s in your office.” Lincoln motions in that direction.

I frown. “Any idea what this is about?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Shoulders tight, I open the door to my office. The furniture is new and expensive. Mostly a ploy to make clients think the fee is worth paying. For the most part, I spend little of my time in here. That’s why everything still has that freshly out-of-the-box smell.

“Mr. Porter.” I shake his hand then round my desk. The photo of me, Anya, Regan and Abe stares at me. I make a point not to look at it. “How can I help you?”

He talks about the weather and asks about my kids. When I don’t answer the obvious invite for small talk, he gets the hint and shifts gears.

“Mr. Bolton, I’d like to start by saying how much I admire you. Even outside of your impressive military career, you and your family are well-respected in the financial community.”

I frown, not expecting this line of flattery.

“Your brother especially is an up-and-coming talent. All eyes were on him the moment he took over the reins and he has not disappointed.”

“Cody’s been doing an amazing job,” I agree.

I wouldn’t be living the life I am without him. He agreed to fill the role of businessman so I could join the army. Numbers, investments and chasing new opportunities? That role was made for him.

I lean forward, my eyes steely. “But what does my family history have to do with you, Mr. Porter?”

He shifts in his chair. “A man like you, with a family as wealthy as yours, I believe, would be quite magnanimous.”

He’s throwing big words into this speech.

That can’t be good.

I fold my fingers together and cut to the chase. “This is about Island?”

He trembles slightly but presses on. “I understand that you bought the bank to teach her a lesson. I believe she’s gotten the message.” He sets a folder on the desk and slides it over to me. “But I hope that I can convince you to release her.”

“Release her?”

“Island isn’t like you, Mr. Bolton. She doesn’t come from a fancy background with a fancy family. She doesn’t have a line of zeroes behind her name. She’s a struggling entrepreneur with a very expensive loan.”

“And I’m the Big Bad Wolf you’ve come to vanquish. Is that it, Mr. Porter?”

He reddens and runs a portly hand down the crooked tie beneath his suit jacket. “Of course not. No.” He shakes his head vehemently. “Not to be crass, Mr. Bolton, but compared to you, Island is inconsequential. You might even say she’s a nobody.”

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