Page 25 of My Billionaire Neighbor's Secret

He pushed his eyeglasses up the bridge of his nose. As he came closer, my knees felt like buckling. I wanted to faint at his feet. But I just stood there smiling professionally.

In my mind, I was panicking.What the hell was I going to say to him after what happened last night?

Oh, this was turning out to be a very interesting afternoon.

Chapter 12

CARTER

Iwatchedastonsof boxes with the names of hotels and casinos I owned were brought down from the truck and carried inside the building that had replaced the home I once knew.

I couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact feeling I had during that time. It was like a fusion of gratefulness, compassion, and even pride. I had overcome my troubled past. I was now made, and it was my turn to give back to the institution that had taken care of me from when I was an infant up to when I was adopted at eight years old.

This had been my home. I wish I’d never left it then, but perhaps I wouldn’t have arrived at where I am today if not for everything that I went through.

“Carter!” a familiar voice called, filling me with warmth.

I smiled at Jillian, who now had white and gray hair and wrinkles on her face, but still emitted such radiance with her sunny, friendly disposition.

We embraced briefly.

“How have you been, Jillian?” I asked. I saw her only two weeks ago, but I felt like I was coming home to real family whenever we got together. She was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother.

“I’m good, thank you,” she answered with a bright smile. “Never been better. And you? Every time I see you, I feel so proud and happy. I always knew you were special, but what you’ve become today… It’s just so amazing!”

I returned her smile, touched by her words. “Thank you. All my values are intact, thanks to you.”

“Awww… Thank you for always being so generous.” She squeezed my hand and guided me to the kitchen, where she’d baked my favorite chocolate chip cookies. I wasn’t hungry, but I couldn’t say no to that.

“You’ve still got the best cookies,” I told her honestly. “And every time I eat these, I remember how kind you were to me and to all the other kids.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know about…” she started.

It was only last year that I told her about what had really happened to me in those two foster homes. Since then, she has kept apologizing to me nonstop and feeling so bad that she had not been able to rescue me then. Well, she couldn’t have known, and I too, had no way to reach out to her.

When I was a teenager, I visited this place, this same orphanage where I’d started. Jillian had been away on some social work mission in another state. I got her number, and we became friends over the phone. That time, I just couldn’t tell her yet about all the suffering I had gone through. All I said was that it did not work out with the two foster families I was with, but an old wealthy businessman had given me a good home and was educating me to fulfill my dream of becoming a hotel owner someday.

“I told you already that it was never your fault,” I said gently, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s alright. I’m in a good place now. That’s all in the past.”

She nodded.

We chatted some more as I finished the cookies. She was the oldest worker now in the orphanage, one of the pioneers. She ran the place with social workers who were not there when I was one of the orphan residents.

The boxes were all brought into the lobby. We checked them out, and everyone was just so grateful and happy.

“This is too much, Mr. Croft!” one of the social workers exclaimed.

“It’s no big deal,” I assured them. “As I have always told you, this was my very first home, and I just want to give back. I want the children here to be taken care of very well and to enjoy a few luxuries that we didn’t have back then. I know how it feels to be one of them.”

They nodded in understanding. Except for Jillian, all they knew was that I had been an orphan there before. They had no inkling about what had happened after I’d left the orphanage.

Some of them started sorting the things we’d brought. There were food items, toys, books, clothes, toiletries, musical instruments, and many others. Most of them were brand new though some were donations from employees and guests of our hotels.

At that moment, I had a flashback of when I was about four or five years old, digging through a pile of donated toys. Finding one that I liked, I felt so happy and special. It had really meant a lot, and I’d treasured that toy for many years.

Through the window, I saw a new group arriving. A familiar figure came out of the car, her skin glowing under the sunlight. Even though she wasn’t facing front and was wearing a pair of sunglasses, I already knew who it was.

What is Leigh Andrews doing here?I thought with curiosity. I could feel something tingling in my spine. I felt my heart begin to race. The desire to get closer to her was overwhelming.

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