Page 89 of Serving the Mogul

This one was special. As a board member, I even sat in on a few of the meetings. All-In was an organization based in Houston that focused on helping single parents living near or below the poverty line. I don’t know if my mother would have reached out for help, but ever since I became involved with All-In, I’ve seen the difference they make in people’s lives.

I had no problem admitting that this organization was vital to me on a personal level. While I avoided interviews and charity events like the plague, if it involved All-In, I swallowed the bitter pill and went because I knew it made a difference.

However, I had never brought a date before.

Did Tina have anything she could wear to such a formal event?

I knew she was struggling to keep her business going, so I’d made sure she had access to capital, but she wouldn’t use that to buy a dress for a formal.

The solution came to me right on the heels of that, and I reached for my phone.

“Well,hello, brother dearest,” Zoey said, her enthusiastic cheer carrying through the phone.

Zoey Roberts was another of my many half-siblings, and she was fiercely independent and stubborn. She’d only been in preschool when I met her, and it had been impossible to keep her at a distance even then.

“Zoey. How are you?”

“I’m just fine, and you hate small talk, so don’t bother. What do you need?”

Laughing, I said, “That’s one thing I love about you, Zoey. You always get right to the point.”

“Awww…thank you! But who are you? My brother James doesn’t hand out compliments like that.”

I frowned—but not because of what she’d said. She was right. I wasn’t the sort that handed out compliments.

“Maybe I’m just trying to soften you up since I want a favor.”

“No need,” she said airily. “I already love you more than most, so I’ll probably say yes.”

“Can you make me a dress?”

“When you saymake you a dress, do you mean make itfor you? Or for a woman?” she teased.

“Zoey.”

“Okay, okay…but…I’m still wondering if you’re an imposter. Who is this dress for, and what’s her style?”

Leaning back in the chair, I considered the question for a few seconds, then talked.

Almost every minute, Zoey would ask for more details or clarity. Her boutique in Houston was one of the best in the state. Not surprisingly, since she graduated at the top of her class from The Fashion Institute of New York.

“Okay…” Zoey murmured after grilling me for what felt like hours.

In reality, it had only been maybe ten minutes, and I suspected some questions were to satisfy her nosiness.

Her last comment threw me.

“So…this woman. Tina. You seem to have become rather attached to her, dear brother.”

I opened my mouth to deny the claim, but I couldn’t even form the words.

“You’re speechless,” Zoey murmured. “I don’t think that has happened before. Does she feel the same about you?”

Does she feel the same?Tina? Did she feel anything for me?

Shit. The question hit me square in the chest, and I realizedwhyI couldn’t deny the claim.

It was the truth.

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