Page 26 of A Billionaire Gentleman

Jude Holden said it with such a matter-of-fact tone that I almost didn’t process what he was really asking me to do. How cruel was this man that he’d hire someone to break up a relationship? He must’ve seen my opinion on my face because the next thing he said was an explanation of sorts.

“They met at the end of June and have barely spent any time together since. The engagement is my son’s idea, not Deklin’s. The boy is just trying to make his father proud.”

I picked up my napkin, then realized it was cloth and put it back down again, my fingers itching to do something. “Why didn’t you just talk to your son, then? Or grandson, for that matter?”

Jude reached into his jacket and retrieved a piece of paper. “Because neither of them can know the real reason the engagement needs to be called off.” He held the paper out to me. “This is extremely sensitive information, Miss Brennan, but I think once you see what’s on this paper, you’ll understand why I have to do this.”

Curious, I took the paper and opened it. My eyes widened as I read what was written there. Mr. Holden’s methods were unorthodox, to say the least, but I no longer thought him cruel. If anything, he was trying to cause the least amount of damage to the people he loved.

Tears burned my eyes as I looked back up at him. “Why me?”

He cleared his throat and looked at the private investigator, who leaned forward. “Let’s just say that someone who knows of your situation brought you to my attention, and I thought you’d be perfect for the job.”

Someone who knew of my situation?

My parole officer? Child services? Sanders Flannery? Pasha?

Those were the handful of people who even knew a little about my situation. Would any of them try to help me? And if they did, could I turn this opportunity away?

“I’ll do it,” I said as I handed him back the paper. “But I’m not a prostitute. I’m not going to sleep with him for money.”

“I won’t ask you to,” Mr. Holden said as he tucked the paper away again, looking satisfied and relieved. “But I will need you to come to Houston with us for a while. I don’t think the short amount of time we’re here will be long enough.”

My heart fell. “I can’t go to Houston. I have a job and an apartment. I have visits with my son that I can’t miss.” My face burned as I added the one thing I didn’t want to say. “I’m on probation. I can’t just up and leave.”

“I’ll pay your rent until you’re done,” Mr. Holden said immediately. “And you’ll have enough money to keep you going while you find a better job when you come back.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think you understand. I have a drug conviction. I might not have been given any jail time, but it changes things for employers.”

“I know all about that, Miss Brennan.” Mr. Holden waved his hand like it didn’t matter. “When you’re finished with this, I will give you a glowing letter of recommendation and a list of all of the places my family owns. From there, it will only be a matter of finding the best fit.”

“And I’ll speak with your parole officer,” Royd said. “I don’t foresee any issues.”

“As for your visits with your son, you’ll have access to the Holden family jet to fly you back and forth as often as necessary.”

I leaned back in my chair, my head spinning. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll do it,” Mr. Holden said.

Our food’s arrival gave me a few minutes to think. “Mr. Kichner, how much do your services cost?”

“Depends on what you want,” he replied. “And Royd is fine.”

“Would I be able to hire you to dig into my ex and see if you can find any proof that he set me up for the drug bust?” My fingers tightened around my fork, the cool metal pressing into my flesh as I tried to caution myself against too much hope.

“I’ll pay for Royd’s services,” Mr. Holden offered. “Unless I need him for something specific, he’ll work exclusively on digging up everything on your ex-husband.”

“Why would you do that?” I asked, my forkful of pasta dropping back to my plate.

A shadow passed over his face. “Let’s just say that I have a soft spot for women whose husbands are abusive bastards.”

In that case…

“Thank you.” I wasn’t going to let my pride get in the way of someone helping me clear my name. Help me leave that job. Get my son back.

“Good.” Mr. Holden retrieved an envelope from the same inside pocket as the paper he’d given me earlier. “Here’s half of what I’ll pay you. You’ll receive the rest when the engagement is broken. If my grandson appears to be incapable of being dissuaded from his engagement, you may keep this, but you will forfeit the remainder.”

I took the envelope, unsure if I was supposed to look inside or if that’d be tacky.

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