Page 117 of An Engagement for Erica

Couldn’t be anything too personal if the woman didn’t know that.

“She was told that,” Alice said. “Security was even called. She’s throwing a fit and wants to speak to the next person in charge. They said it was you, then her eyes lit up. She isn’t going to leave until she speaks with you.”

“I can only imagine what this is about. No way I’m bringing her to my office or upstairs.”

“If you talk to her in security, they can hear behind a wall,” Alice said.

He wasn’t sure he was aware of that. Like in an interrogation room. Not surprising his father might have put that there. His father was into all sorts of voyeur-type things or any number of activities.

“There is a conference room on the first floor off of the lobby,” he said. “Have her brought there and I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

“Got it,” Alice said and left his office.

He sat back to figure this out. The last thing he wanted to do was be alone with someone who was associated with his father.

But if he brought a witness in with him, he might not want anyone to know what was said either.

Not that he thought there would be much surprise in terms of activities his father had partaken in.

He could have Joel with him. His grandfather trusted the guy enough to have him on the inside feeding him information so he’d like to think he was trustworthy for this.

It was his company now. He ran it. He was going to make that decision.

He got up and started to make his way to the first floor and by the time he got to the room, he’d pulled his phone out and put it on the table.

“I’m recording this conversation,” he said. “State your name please.”

Alice was right when she said the woman was rough and ready.

Her dark brown roots were an inch or more down her scalp with the rest of her hair being something that should be blonde but looked more like hay, in color and texture.

She was sitting, so he didn’t know what she was wearing, but the fitted sweatshirt that dipped down low and showed off her cleavage led him to believe the shirt didn’t cover much of herwaist and he could only imagine what she was wearing below that.

“Kristi Brown,” the woman said. Her voice was raspy on top of it. Not of the sexy kind but the one where years of smoking ate at her vocal cords.

“Tucker Nelay,” he said. “What can I help you with?”

“I hadn’t realized your father had died,” Kristi said. “I was with him a few months ago.”

“A few months ago is two, or thereabouts,” he said. “My father passed away in June. About four months ago.”

How had that much time gone by?

The last remaining possession of his father’s was the house and he would be closing on it next week sometime.

He could put the past behind him where it belonged at this point and move on.

“I lost track of time,” Kristi said. “It was in early June that I saw him.”

“And?” he said.

“I’m pregnant with his child,” Kristi said.

He snorted. “You’re joking, right? My father was sixty years old. With the amount of drugs and alcohol he consumed, I’m surprised he could even get it up.”

“They have pills for that,” Kristi said. “I supply them if needed.”

“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You’re pregnant with my dead father’s child. So you say. A man you didn’t even know died and it’s been four months since you’ve seen him. What was your relationship with him? Or I can guess, but I’d like it on record.”

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