Page 56 of If You Give a Billionaire a Bride

“And what was so important that you couldn’t wait until she was back at her office?” Cash asks.

“I got a concerning call from one of my lawyers when I landed. The Stafford legal team wants to do a deep dive into Townstead’s financials, but my team already provided the standard information required.”

Cash raises a brow. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here. You damn well know all communications regarding the acquisition should go through our lawyers.”

“This is an extenuating circumstance, and I knew you would be able to get me in touch with your brothers. Considering we’re family now, it’s the least you can do.”

Translation: He figured he could use me to get to Cash and his brothers—unbelievable.

Cash snickers. “What do you think my brothers are going to do about it? They’re investing millions into this deal. As far as they’re concerned,allyour financial records are fair game. It’s called enhanced due diligence, in case you haven’t heard of it.”

I put my hand over my mouth, stifling the surprising urge to laugh from watching Cash put my dad in his place.

“I don’t give a shit what you think. Get your brothers on a call right this instant so I can talk to them,” my dad demands, the vein in his forehead bulging. “It’s urgent.”

Cash folds his arms across his chest, his gaze cold. “Did you make an appointment with my assistant?”

My dad rears his head back. “Why the hell would I need an appointment?” He scoffs.

“Because I have a busy schedule, and my afternoon is booked solid.” Cash shrugs.

“What are you playing at,boy,” my dad spits out.

“I don’t have time for bullies who threaten their own daughter,” Cash hisses in a hushed tone. “Everly and I stayed married like you wanted, so what the hell do you have to complain about? You work her to the bone, and I refuse to let you ruin what little time I have with my wife.”

My gaze darts between them. Cash’s fists are clenched at his sides, his posture rigid, and the vein in his neck pulses. My dad tries to maintain an indifferent front, but the sweat on his brow is a clear giveaway that he’s scared shitless.

Cash can be intimidating when he wants to be, and it’s such a turn-on that he’s willing to stand up for me.

“I’ll make sure Harrison hears about your blatant show of disrespect,” my dad seethes.

“Something tells me he’ll take my side when he finds out you raised your voice at his sister-in-law.” Cash turns to me and places his large hand on my lower back. “Come on, Ev, let’s go.”

With no argument from me, he leads me past the reception desk and through a pair of glass doors, leaving my dad behind with his mouth hanging open in disbelief. He guides me to his office, shutting the door once we’re inside.

Like his home, the room is sparsely furnished with only a desk, a leather office chair, and a budget rolling chair in the corner.

I glance up at him. “Did you move to a new office recently?”

He shakes his head. “No, why?”

“Because there’s nothing here,” I say, stating the obvious. “My workspace has a cozy couch, a couple of plants, and some knickknacks to make it feel more like home since I spend so much time there.”

Cash perches on the edge of his desk and pats the wood for me to join him.

“Having me work in the London office was meant to be temporary,” he explains. “Harrison hasn’t given a specific timeline, but I didn’t think it was worth settling in fully.”

I take a seat next to him, not bothering to move away when he scoots closer so our legs are touching. “Is your office and apartment in Maine furnished?” I ask, curious about his life in the States. I imagine he’d have a nice setup based on the penthouse he owns here.

He glances over at me. “No. I’m traveling more than I’m in Maine, and when I am in town, I spend my time with my family.”

My heart aches for him. Now I see the reality behind his carefree attitude and unbothered demeanor. The easy smiles, flirtatious gestures, and playful antics serve as distractions, concealing the scars of his past—both seen and unseen.

His insecurities related to his physical appearance and how others see him have clouded his perception of reality. He avoids attachment, whether with people or places, the ever-present fear of rejection haunting his subconscious.

It hurts me to think he believes he can’t find happiness because of his flaws. What he doesn’t realize is that we all have imperfections. Some are visible, while others linger in the shadows of our minds.

In some ways, we’re so much alike, both afraid of trusting someone with our fragile hearts and unable to see past our own misgivings. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to him. He makes me feel safe and secure, and everything he’s done since our night in Vegas has been to make my life easier.

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