Page 83 of Daddy Down Under

“I owe you one hell of an apology. I should’ve come to you directly instead of believing rumors.” He muttered a curse. “I knew from the get-go there was something off about that man, and James felt it too. I should’ve listened to my gut. I’m so sorry, Cash. We did you wrong.”

My father had always taught me that the measure of a man wasn’t how bad he fucked up but how he handled it when he did. Character shows in a genuine apology, he’d always said, and he was right. I could easily forgive Garrett for believing Preston. After all, I knew firsthand how charming Preston could be. “Thank you for acknowledging that. That means a lot to me.”

“Can I ask how Mr. Levine knew about this deal? James and I did wonder how he knew we were looking for a buyer since we didn’t make that public knowledge.”

My face tightened all over again as a heavy weight settled in my belly. “We suspect my accountant has been feeding him information.”

Garrett made a sound, then said, “That explains why his offer was higher than yours by enough to consider it seriously. It surprised us, seeing as how he hadn’t had access to our books but felt comfortable making an offer.”

More proof that Markowitz had been behind it. “I fear he knew my exact bid through my accountant.”

“God, that’s horrible. Is there something you can do legally?”

“Yes, but it means I have to travel back to New York as soon as possible.”

“I completely understand.” Garrett hesitated, then said, “Dare I ask if your decision to buy our company has changed?”

“It hasn’t, but I can’t sign the papers until I’ve sorted out the situation with my accountant. I hope you will honor our deal even if there’s a delay in closing it.”

“Cash, I promise we won’t even talk to another buyer until you’ve made your final decision. That’s the least we owe you.”

“Thank you. I’ll reach out as soon as I know more.”

We ended the call, and I turned to Ocean, feeling a surge of gratitude and admiration. “You were incredible. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Let’s not waste time thinking about that.”

“But can I say thank you for being my…my anchor?”

Ocean’s lips quirked into that heart-stopping smile of his. “It’s in my nature to want to take care of you, baby boy. Just like it’s in your nature to try and shoulder everything alone.”

His words hit home, and I felt a twinge of vulnerability. “I’m not used to having someone to lean on.”

Ocean’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding that made my heart ache. “You’d better learn, then, because I’m not going anywhere.”

I pulled him closer, our foreheads touching. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

In which we return to a gloomy New York to talk to the FBI, and I finally allow myself to let go.

The familiar Manhattanskyline loomed above me as I stepped out of my private car, but after weeks in Melbourne, the city felt foreign, almost hostile. Gone were the endless azure skies and golden sunshine I’d grown accustomed to down under, replaced by a heavy gray ceiling of clouds that pressed down on the concrete canyon of buildings.

The biting wind whipped between the buildings, carrying the acrid scent of exhaust and wet pavement, making me miss Melbourne’s warmth even more. February in New York showed its ugliest face today—what had started as pristine white snow had devolved into treacherous gray slush that pooled in deceptively deep puddles along the curb.

I teetered on the edge of one, attempting to maintain some semblance of dignity while playing an awkward game of hopscotch around the mounds of dirty snow in my Italian leather shoes. Ocean, who had gotten out before me, made it look easy, of course, sidestepping puddles with grace.

“Careful!” He grabbed my wrist, preventing me from face-planting. I’d been watching him instead of the sidewalk. Oops.

“Thank you.”

He gently shook his head, smiling, then took my hand and laced our fingers together. A thrill rushed through me. I loved that he was so open in his affections, not caring who saw.

We were in lower Manhattan, a few blocks from Wall Street, to meet with the FBI agent I had spoken to the day before. He’d been intrigued when I’d talked to him about my suspicions of corporate espionage and, much to my surprise, had set up a meeting for today. I hadn’t realized federal agents could move that quickly, so that had been a welcome surprise.

The second surprise had been Ocean insisting on coming with me. I’d assured him he didn’t have to, but he’d made clear it wasn’t up for debate. His presence meant more than I could put into words.

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