FIVE

MAX CRANE

She had that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look as she raised her gaze to mine. Her lips puckered into a pout, and a soft, mewing sound escaped her lips.

I ran a hand through my head – probably for the hundredth time. It had been long since any woman sparked my interest to this extent, but now, her seeming oblivion to who I was irked.

“I’ll ask you for the last time, who are you?”

Those ocean-blue eyes widened again, giving her a sort of pixie look. Everything about her looked pixie, from the jet black hair that fell in rivulets down to her narrow waist to the heart shaped face framed by dark, sooty lashes, and dominated by her wide eyes, and cupid bow lips I could spend forever tasting.

It was getting more and more obvious she wasn’t one of those million-dollar escorts paid to put up an act, she was the aunt of a baby somewhere everyone was saying was mine.

The fact that she’d taken away my distraction, the only thing that took my mind off what today was should really annoy me, again, it was surprising that I wasn’t so annoyed.

Having a new branch like the Minnesota host our tenth anniversary had been Logan’s idea. He wanted the party to be so far away, I wouldn’t have to show up, he was the only one that knew what today meant to me.

And then the damn stakeholders had called and started yapping stupid stuff about legacy and demanding I attend.

Being in that hall had made every fiber in me go cold. I wanted nothing more than to drink myself into oblivion – with some female company of course – and then wake up the next day like 12 of May never existed in my calendar. And then she’d shown up.

She was whimpering now, like a kitten without claws, those large blue eyes staring up at me like I was the big, bad, wolf from her childhood bedtime stories. I let out a breath as I let her go.

“What’s your name?” I tried more gently this time, shutting the door with the back of my leg and leaning against it.

“Leslie Homer,” she breathed.

Homer…. Minnesota branch had been slammed with a law suit from a Jeffrey Homer. “Homer, as in Jeffrey Homer?”

She nodded, looking guilty. “Okay, I’m not exactly Barbie’s sister. She cheated with my husband – ex-husband, Jeffrey, and now she’s dead, they’re making me take custody of the child. I figured Jeffrey wasn’t the only one she was messing with, followed a trail of pictures, and I found you.”

“So you’ll want a DNA test? I’ll schedule it for tomorrow. If the child is mine, you can meet with my secretary to reimburse you for your efforts, if not – well, I can write you a tidy check to help you find the father –”

“Hold up hold up, wait!” She was already saying before I finished speaking. The flash of protective fierceness was back in her eyes. “You don’t think I’m going to hand over that child to you, after what I’ve just witnessed this night. It’s very obvious you are unfit to raise a child! I really hope you are not the father, cause if you are, I’ll fight you in court with the last drop of my blood, you are not taking her.”

Blood wasn’t the weapon used in court cases, it was money, a disgusting amount of raw dirty cash, and a room full of lawyers. Judging from her obvious thrift-store-bought outfit, she has none of those yet I admired her spirit.

“What’s your deal though? I had to ask. “Are you putting on a show so I’ll offer you more money? I already said I’ll pay for your troubles so far –”

She reached out a hand and slapped me, surprise flashing more in her eyes as her hand connected with my jaw. “ How dare you reduce the fate of an innocent baby to – mere money?”

I wasn’t prepared for the surge of anger that filled me, nor for how her disdain was beginning to rankle.

I grabbed the hand she’d  used to hit me, fighting the urge to squeeze till she was chastised. Instead, I brought it up to my lips and kissed her knuckles. Her pupils dilated as I whispered. “Next time you touch me without consent Mom Cheri, I’m going to be doing a little touching of my own.”

She yanked her hand, moving backwards as though I’d  scalded her. “I’m just making sure that poor baby doesn’t end up with you –”

“Well so what do you want? If you don’t like my ‘mere money’ ways, then move in with her. I’ll pay you enough to take care of her.”

Other girls would jump at the offer, she only looked more exasperated. “What is it with you men thinking I’ll happily uproot my life and comes play nanny for you? Have you imagined I may want my own life, to get married and take care of my own children?”

“Then marry me.”

Her eyes widened, and even I was equally surprised, but as soon as I said it, it started to make sense.

 Stakeholders had been hounding me without end on how I should get married so people would view Helix Co with more respectability, the hard, concrete, cash evidence of our goodwill not withstanding. Leslie, was exactly the kind of girl my Nan would have wanted me to marry, and a marriage contract easily solved the issue of the child. It was not as though I was holding out to fall in love with someone or any such nonsense. If I was going to get married, I might as well do it now.

I straightened and took a step towards her as she took several steps backwards. “It would be a marriage in paper, and appearances alone – we’d  share each other’s  beds of course, but we don’t have to be exclusive. You’ll be placed on a monthly allowance of half a million.”

Her eyes flared, and I half expected her to go on a long rant about reducing the sanctity of marriage to a money transaction, instead she asked. “What if the child is not yours?”

“The contract is only for if the child is mine. We’d run the DNA test tomorrow, I’m sure you’ll want some time to think about it, so I’m giving you till the week is up, till then, I’ll allow you to continue keeping the baby.”

She stared at me like she was going to cry, then she turned and fled the room.

The marriage offer was probably a tad bit impulsive. I had the vague feeling I would spend the rest of the marriage regretting it.