Page 98 of Unlawful Seduction

“Oh, I apologize, Dr. McGregor. I was on a red eye and the flight was turbulent.” He pulled out an old-fashioned business card, handing it to me as way of introduction.

Sighing, I accepted, quickly glancing at the name. Michael Zephyr, attorney at law. “I figured as much.”

“What gave it away?”

“The useless look about you.”

He chuckled. “Yes, formidable indeed.”

I laughed although the sound was disgusted. “For the record, I want nothing to do with Mr. Callum. Oh, and by the way, we both know his real name isn’t Beckett Callum. Cut the antics. What do you want? I’m not signing some NDA if that’s what you’re doing here.” My stomach was in knots from what I believed the man was doing here. He had the slick look of a New York attorney, the kind of guy who would use anything to getwhat he wanted. The bastard who’d brought my son to life was making a play to be in my son’s life. Or worse, to take him from me.

I would fight to the death to keep that from happening.

He laughed. “That’s not why I’m here. Sit down, Dr. McGregor. I think you’ll want to. I brought the coffee simply because I thought you might enjoy a break. Not for any nefarious reasons. I do believe it’s your favorite, cappuccino with a half shot of hazelnut.”

Anger swelled to the point I was this close to throwing him out. “Well, I guess Beckett has thought of everything. How much to sell my son?”

His eyes opened wider, but he was a consummate professional. “I assure you that’s not what our meeting is about either. I can only imagine what a shock Beckett’s return has been for you.”

Laughing, I shook my head. “I doubt you do.”

“I assure you these past few years have been difficult on him as well.”

“Look, I’m a busy woman. Just tell me why you’re here before I grow weary of the bullshit.” No, the man didn’t deserve my wrath, but since he was an agent for Beckett, at least I had an opportunity to speak my mind without fear of losing myself to the heightened level of emotions refusing to leave.

“Very well, I’ll get to the point.” He took a few extra seconds retrieving a file from his briefcase.

“While you’re retrieving whatever you insist is so important, tell me about Mr. Callum. Is he staying or leaving town like he didbefore?” In my mind it was a simple question that should allow for an easy, quick answer, but Mr. Zephyr was having none of it.

He placed the file on my desk, peering up at me as if presenting a challenge. Fine. I’d play on his terms. For now. I sat down in the chair, taking a really good look at the man. He was around Beckett’s age, a concerned look in his eyes. In my mind, attorneys were good liars.

“It’s my understanding that he plans on selling the cottage and moving on. Or at least that was the original plan.”

Original plan. Until he’d seen my son.Ourson. “What is this? Your lame attempt at taking Brady away from me?”

“Hardly, Ms. McGregor.”

“It’s Dr. McGregor. Then what is it?”

He pushed the folder forward another inch. “Please. Take a moment to look this over.”

Doing so was the last thing I wanted to do, but felt obligated. I opened the folder and almost immediately reached for the coffee. It was still warm, the flavor just as I preferred. This man had gone to great lengths to find out certain things about me.

I wondered what else had been discovered. I might not be an attorney, but I knew what I was looking at.

“A trust fund?” I asked as I lifted my head. He did want to buy me. My hands were shaking.

“Yes, for Brady. He can gain partial access to his funds when he reaches eighteen, the remainder when he’s twenty-five. In addition, there’s a monthly stipend for you as well that will continue until Brady is of age. That should help withsome general expenses. Oh, and an educational fund has been established as well that you can also feel free to fund as you wish.”

It was all too much and too clinical.

I returned my gaze to the paperwork, trying to keep any emotion from my expression. As soon as I flipped the page, I wasn’t certain whether to be floored or pissed off. I chose being pissed off. “A twenty-million-dollar trust fund?”

He acted as if that was chump change. “Yes. If you believe that’s not enough, I can talk with Mr. Callum.”

Oh, for God’s sake. I was floored and angry and hurt and… “To save me searching, I’m curious about the monthly stipend you mentioned.”

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

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