I glance at my watch again. I don't have time for this shit, but I also can't seem to drag myself away. I tell myself it's because if I'm going to take this place down, I might as well find out everything I can before I do.
And then there's the matter of the girl, that headstrong little brat who scared off three nannies before I found out what was going on.
A part of me wants to take her by the shoulders and shake her. I was raised in a home that didn't abide disobedience, where the back of a hand or worse was what I could expect if I didn't snap to.
But that wasn't a happy home. That isn't a home I want to emulate.
Which is precisely why I didn't have kids.
Goddammit.
I don't have time for any of this.
I will find my brother, and I will kick his deadbeat ass from here to wherever the fuck he hid. And her mother. Where the hell is her mother?
I have to admit, a part of me's intrigued by the girl. She's sharp as a whip, I'll give her that much. And clever, too. I don't know what the hell she did to run off the first two nannies we hired, but the third she sent on a wild goose chase through downtown Boston while the entire time, Daniella was hiding in my office closet.
I was the one that found her.
I was the one that hauled her out of there to answer to Killian and Winnie, who were half-frantic looking for her.
The girl's got pluck.
And now, all on her own, she's scrounged up some sorta half-baked detective or something to help her find her mother?
I'm more than a little intrigued, and it has nothing to do with that stunning woman hiding behind her frizzy hair. I know a diamond in the rough when I see one.
But now's not the time to be watching the way her pretty amber eyes, the color of a creamy dark chocolate, light up when Daniella has her attention. The way she bites her lip adorably when she jots notes down in a notebook. A few unruly curls have escaped her—bun?—and are hanging on her forehead, bobbing up and down like springs when she nods her head.
I really shouldn't watch the way her V-neck dress spills open, how her pert breasts push up like ripe peaches, or the way she's got a teeny scar in her upper lip that I'd love to run my tongue against.
It's been way too long since I've had a woman, and I will not have this one.
She's my neighbor, it's true, but she's also fucking up my business, and I won't allow that to happen.
I need this space she has and goddammit, I'll have it.
I polish off the smoothie sample. Damn, it's good. Would buying a full-size one be considered fraternizing with the enemy? Maybe I can discreetly DoorDash one or two and stash them in the fridge.
I swipe the app open on my phone and half listen to the conversation in front of me.
"When was this, Daniella?"
"Call me Dany."
"I like that." Regina smiles, and for one heart-stopping minute, my world comes to a stuttering halt. Her whole face lights up when she smiles, a flash of white teeth against blush red lips. I swallow hard, but it's getting harder to feign aloofness.
Maybe I can try another strategy.
Maybe I can pretend to be friendly, find out what really makes this God-awful place tick, then hit them where it hurts.
I've kind of made my millions riding the douchebag train. Why stop now?
"A week ago, my mom went missing," Dany says. "I was all alone for a few days, but don't worry, I had food and I knew how to get myself to school." She blows out a breath. The girl's only in second grade but seems way more mature than she should be. There are reasons for that, and I wonder what they are. "But my teacher found out my mom was gone and then someone came to the house for me. My mom's a missing person and they had me go with this guy over here."
She jerks her thumb at me. Our first encounter involved me hauling her out of my office closet, so I guess I didn't make the best first impression.
Regina nods. She's less interested in me, and a lot more interested in what Dany has to say. "Before your mom went missing, were there any signs that something was wrong?"
Dany looks away and bites her lip. I know body language enough to know the answer to that question is a resounding yes.
And at that moment, I don't care that the little girl's run off three nannies. Hell, maybe they were shit nannies to begin with.
I don't care that she's made my life miserable the past few days.
Right now, all I see is a lonely little girl whose mom left her, and I want to hear the rest of this story.
I press the button on DoorDash to order the smoothie sent to my office, then shoot Killian a text.
Me: Incoming smoothie, put it on my desk. Drink it and die.
A minute later, I get a response.
Killian: Smoothie? WTF is that about? Wait. WAIT. Did you get the non-GMO cookies, too?
I send him an emoji of a skull-and-crossbones that seems to get the point across better than words.
A minute later, he sends me another text.
Killian: Goddammit, we lost the girl again.
I take a picture of her and send it back to him.
Killian: You found her?
Me: Yeah
My fingers hover over the phone. I can't tell him why she's here. For some reason, that seems private, and I don't want to reveal her secrets.
Killian: She left without eating her lunch, and skipped her breakfast, too. You have to get her fed, or you'll be in trouble for neglect.
Me: I own a fucking restaurant. This shouldn't be a problem. Also, I am so going to kill you for this. I know you were behind it.
Killian: Don't know what you're talking about
Me: You do. You know I don't have children for A REASON
Killian: hahahahahaha and now you do
If he wasn't my cousin, I'd have fired his ass a long time ago. Why do families get away with murder?
I roll my eyes and shove my phone in my pocket. Jesus.
"It seems we're boring Mr. Swan," Regina says, narrowing her eyes at me.
Oh no she didn't.
"Excuse me?" I square my shoulders. Where does she get off leveling uncalled-for judgments?
Not that I ever do a thing like that.
She sits up straighter, and I note the way her spine stiffens as she folds her hands in front of her. Small hands, with short, neatly trimmed nails, no jewelry. Not even a shadow that a ring ever grazed her finger. I wonder if she's ever even been with a man before. There's definitely a virginal vibe about her.
"You seem bored, Mr. Swan. Perhaps Dany and I should conduct the rest of our interview privately, and you can come back later to pick her up?" She cocks her head to the side. I know a challenge when I see one.
A pussy would tuck his tail and run. An asshole would give her good reason to get her panties in a knot. But me? I can be every bit the gentleman that's dominated the restaurant business in one of the most competitive cities in the country.
"So sorry you misunderstood my facial expressions, Miss—"
"Mills," she finishes for me.
"Mills. But I was merely responding to a business associate of mine and my reactions just now had nothing to do with your interview. I do, however, think we need to move this interview elsewhere, because I have a commitment this afternoon, and it seems Dany's skipped breakfast and lunch."
She holds my gaze before her pretty eyes flicker back to Dany. "Is that true?"
Dany shrugs. "I wasn't hungry. I don't get hungry until later."
"We'll go next door, get something to eat. You'll finish this interview."
"Go where next door?" Dany asks.
"My restaurant."
She seems to mull this over, but I'm fresh out of patience. I'm about to pick the kid up and toss her over my shoulder. "I'm not asking, Dany." I point to the door. "Go."
She gives me a look like she's thinking about defying me again, and I'm briefly wondering if boarding school for kids in temporary custody is an option when Regina speaks up.
"I've heard they have the best macaroni and cheese in the city," she says helpfully.
"We do, it's won awards." My tone is tight, as I speak through gritted teeth. I'm so out of patience, but a little angel in my ear reminds me to play it cool. Regina's turning around so she can grab her sweater off the back of the chair, and she's got a seriously perfect little ass.
"Let's go, Dany, I'm starving," Regina says. "And I need to hear more about your mother."
She crates the little mutt. We leave, and I get us a table at the back of the restaurant, still half-listening. I've got a meeting coming up, and it's an important one I can't miss. I snag the kid's menu and point to a dish. "See? Mac and cheese."
Dany frowns. "That says… cavatappi with a decadent gruyere-havarti blend." She looks up at me and blinks. I don't let on that I'm impressed with how well she reads for someone so small.
"Trust me, it's good."
"I'll take the cavatappi," Regina says triumphantly, not even opening the menu. "But the adult version."
Her eyes meet mine across the table, and she must have a seriously dirty mind because saying adult version has her cheeks all flushed and pink.
I am not letting this go.
"You like the adult version?" I ask in a low voice, as Dany's busily coloring the back of the kid's menu with a cup of crayons the server brought her.
"Mr. Swan," Regina hisses. "Are you—"
"Please," I say warmly. "Call me Emmett."
She flushes a deeper shade of red.
"Are you making suggestive comments to me?" she hisses.
"Of course not. You were the one that ordered the adult version."
And then she does something wholly unexpected. She stares at me, her eyes all wide and surprised, then she snorts like a little piglet. Her snort apparently amuses her, because the next thing I know, she's giggling, which gets Dany's attention. She smiles, and I realize with a momentary pang it's the first time I've seen the kid smile. Then they're both giggling their heads off, and I'm not even sure why.
"Alright, girls," I say, trying to get a handle on the situation. "Let's pick up where we left off." The sooner they finish this interview, the sooner I can get Dany whisked off to another caretaker, then make my move on Regina.
Dany nods, sobering, and continues her story. "The police say that my mom left," she says, and I don't miss the way her lip wobbles a bit when she says this, or the way Regina's eyes grow pained. "But she didn't. I know she was taken."
Shit.
Regina looks at me, all traces of humor gone. I give a small shrug. I have no clue where this is going.
"What makes you say that?" Regina asks Dany, as our waiter brings over a tray of drinks and two pasta dishes—one child's size and one "adult version."
"Because," Dany says, placing her palms on the table while she eyes Regina, "my mom promised me she would never leave me. It was our vow to each other. I ran away from home when I was little, and we made a promise to each other we wouldn't run away again. Either of us. Ever."
Regina looks from me to Dany, then back again. I don't say anything.
Why did she run away from home when she was younger? Was it a petty, childish complaint like her mom bought her the wrong breakfast cereal, or something more serious?
Why is she concerned about her mom but hasn't said a damn word about my brother? Does she even know who he is? I doubt it.
I wish she had more than this. I hope she does, but she's a kid.
A mother's promise that she'll never leave isn't something I'd bet on, as much as I wish I could.
Regina reaches out and takes Dany's hand. "Alright, Dany. I'll investigate this. I'll do my best. I can't promise any results, but I promise I'll give you everything I've got."
Damn.
My attention's distracted by another text from Killian.
Killian: Smoothie's arrived and melting and was delivered by a seriously fucking knock-out.
Me: Don't drink it.
Killian: There's actually two. One for you, one for me.
Me: Fine.
Regina, who's sitting across the table, brings my attention back to her with the little orgasmic moans she makes as she bites into her macaroni and cheese.
Jesus.
My blood heats, and I shift on my seat as I imagine exactly what I could do to make her moan like that all night long.
"You're doing a good job with your lunch," Regina says to Dany, as Dany takes another bite of pasta.
"You're doing a good job with yours, too," I say quietly to Regina, my words casual but my tone anything but.
Her jaw drops open as if she can't believe I'm hitting on her. Again, I wonder if the girl's a virgin. Wouldn't that just be the icing on the non-GMO cookie?
She takes another bite of pasta and licks the spoon, the tip of her tongue doing wicked little things to the cheesy béchamel sauce. I swallow hard. Blink.
"It's delicious," she says, as my phone buzzes.
Killian: You've got a meeting in fifteen minutes. Where's the girl?
Me: Sitting right next to me.
Killian: Bring her with you.
Me: Why?
Killian: The interview's about her.
Wait, what? I don't know much about kids, but I have vague memories of being one, and none of them are pleasant.
Me: She's not ready for that.
Killian: Alright, fine. We can put them off, but you have to at least do your portion. Where are you?
Me: In the restaurant.
Killian: Alright, sounds good. Be up here in fifteen minutes.
Me: Since when do you give me orders?
Killian: Mea culpa, slavedriver.
"Okay, girls, I'm sorry to rush you, but I've got an interview upstairs shortly." I frown. "The only problem is, I don't have anyone to watch Dany."
"I can watch myself," Dany says, spearing an apple slice and chomping happily.
Right. "Not gonna happen."
"And I have to get back to the shop," Regina says with a frown. She looks back up at me. "You don't have a single person among your hordes of minions that can watch a child for a few hours?"
Hordes of minions?
Really?
"My hordes of minions have jobs to do, Regina," I say evenly. Who the hell does she think she is?
She shrugs. "I'm sure you can find someone."
Dany throws up her hands. "I said I could take care of myself!"
"Yeah?" I ask her. "Prove it, then."
She flashes me a curious look. "Prove it?"
"Yes. People who can take care of themselves handle responsibilities. They do their jobs without needing someone to hold their hand or tell them what to do."
Dany frowns. "Well, I'm only seven."
"Doesn't matter. I owned my first business by the age of nine."
Her eyes widen behind thick-rimmed glasses. "You did?"
"I did. I walked dogs for my neighbors, charged by the hour, and made my first hundred bucks that way."
She holds my gaze. "So how am I supposed to prove it, then?"
I lean across the table. "You don't run when people are looking for you. You don't run off nannies, either."
She sighs. "Okay."
Regina's spooning up the last of her pasta, scraping the bottom of the bowl and licking her lips.
My phone buzzes. Regina gives me a wary look. "She can come with me today, only because it'll behoove us to discuss the details of the case."
I don't know if I like her taking on "the case." I have questions of my own to ask, but I'll do that later. For now, I have to get to my meeting.
"Thank you." I glance at the time again. "I'll be by this evening to pick her up."
Dany stands and puts her little hand in Regina's, and for one brief moment my heart does a little twist in my chest. I hate that this has been forced on me. I want to know why Dany's mom left her and where my asshole brother is. Parents should take care of their children, and it isn't right when someone has to do their work for them.
Then my phone rings, I answer the call, and ignore the looks of onlookers as I make my way up to my office. I've got work to do, and the girl—the girls—will have to wait.
A little voice in my head reminds me I have an excuse to see Regina again.
And I have plans.