Page 8 of Confusing Cade
“Hope you had a good night, sir,” the valet said as he stepped out of my Ferrari in the turning circle drive of the palatial home. He noted my expression. “Everything okay?”
“Fine.”
I slipped the valet a one-hundred-dollar bill and slid into my driver’s seat. The fundraiser was still buzzing, and nowhere near done, but I’d had enough. I needed out and needed to clear my head. The crowd, the chatter, and the overpriced drinks were all too much. At least it was for a good cause. The National Breast Cancer Research Foundation. My mother’s face flickered in my mind, her smile fading as cancer took her. If my money could spare someone else that pain, I’d keep writing checks.
I pulled out of the valet area onto the quiet South Florida streets. It was early December, the air warm with a crisp Atlantic breeze. I rolled down the windows, opened the moonroof, and headed north toward my Palm Beach Island home. The town was still, but the holiday season’s chaos loomed. Soon enough, the island would be nothing but snowbirds, packed restaurants, and endless parties. The best and worst time of year.
The fundraiser stuck with me as I drove. I wasn’t big on crowds or causes, but this one hit differently. My mother’s fight, and those three years of watching her fade, drove me to give. The foundation’s work, with a focus on better treatment and earlier detection, really mattered. That’s why I kept showing up, year after year, cutting checks and shaking hands. It wasn’t about the recognition, social clout, or political capital, no matter what my worst critic would say. God knows I had enough accolades in this part of the Sunshine State. No, this was about doing something that mattered, something bigger than me.
But too bad tonight had also included her.Bella Moretti.
A name that still had the ability to conjure so many mixed feelings after all these years.
And that night, surprise. Shock, even, that she was still in South Florida. Sure, her dad loved Palm Beach County—she and her sister had been born here. But this place had also been the site of his epic downfall. Why stay someplace that had so many bad memories?
Can’t she afford to leave?
I arrived at my driveway and maneuvered my car into the garage, then parked it in the open spot next to the mudroom door. My house was about half the size of the location of the fundraiser, but it was just as elegant. It was also the first purchase I’d truly made on my own after inheriting my father’s empire three years ago when he died of a heart attack in his sleep.
Three years.
I had no idea how quickly that time had passed. I missed him. I didn’t miss his arrogance and self-righteousness. No, I’d always hated that. But I missed having a dad, the man I could call when I needed some fatherly input. Or to laugh at a client’s ridiculous demands.
I placed my keys in the bowl on a table near the door, kicked off my shoes, and made my way to the bar between the living room and kitchen. Once there, I took a long pull of the bourbon in the decanter. The drink did little to calm my nerves or temper my frustration about my unexpected reunion with Bella.Reunion?No, I had blindsided her. Not only had she not known I was there, but she’d also had no clue I knew about her FanZone account.Why did I blindside her like that, knowing she hated me?I kept thinking about the fiery frustration in her eyes when she realized it was me and kept dwelling on the disgust that I heard in every syllable of the few words she tossed my way.
There was sadness too.
Shit.
My phone buzzed, and I ripped it from the pocket of my tuxedo pants. It was David asking where the hell I was and if I’d left the party. I tapped out a quick reply and placed the device face down on the nearby credenza. David was a good friend, possibly even my best friend. I appreciated his concern, but he would never know how hard it was to see Bella, knowing about her FanZone page like I did.
Speaking of which...
I glanced at my phone again.Has she posted anything new?
A few taps later, Bella’s profile home page filled my screen. Since my last log on, she’d added exactly three new photos, all bikini shots with a private pool and garden as a backdrop. The quality was high and the resolution sharp.
And I had to hand it to her. Bella knew how to hustle. I thumbed through the gallery as mixed emotions seeped deep inside me. She was gorgeous, a classic beauty that seemed rare in a world of tattoos, enhancements, and filters. Plus, I admired her determination.
But Bella shouldn’t have needed to lower herself this way, to reduce herself to a woman who sold her body online to strangers.So why is she on there? Does it have something to do with my family?
And why does she give thousands of strangers access to her beautiful body?
CHAPTER FIVE
