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All His Secrets (Manhattan Misters Book 1) Page 3
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"Heard there was some excitement after I left for the day?"
"The little girl I brought in? Let me tell you." I threw my bag on the counter.
"You mean the stray?" She said in that snotty voice of hers that made me want to smack her. I glared at her and she shrank back.
"What?" she said, holding up her hands. If I hadn't known she was harmless and made sure Esme's mug was always filled to the brim with hot chocolate, I would’ve punched her. She was my best friend in the city—pretty much my only friend in the city. Which was pretty sad because I don’t think she thought of me as more than her own version of a stray. Once I started working at the diner, she gave me a place to crash.
The bathroom door opened again and Roy, her waste of a boyfriend, strolled out. His towel was wrapped around his waist. His mere presence made my skin crawl.
"Hey, Mel, how you doing?” he said, looking me up and down like he always did. While the sofa in her minuscule living room was fine when it was just the two of us, whenever Roy was here it was like the walls were closing in. And every time Roy looked at me it turned my stomach. I didn't want to say anything to Jeanine. She was head over heels for Roy, but he gave me the creeps. There was more than one occasion when I'd woken up on the couch to catch him staring at me, pretending he was just on his way to the bathroom. It's not like I could ask her to not invite him over. It was her place, not mine. I was the interloper here. Always the person on the outside, just trying to fit in or make myself as invisible as possible.
"Fine, Roy," I said through gritted teeth, trying to sound pleasant. "The little girl was Rhys Thayer's daughter. He came in a little after you left,” I told Jeanine, trying my best to ignore her gag reflex inducing boyfriend.
"Shut up," she screeched, throwing her towel at me. I had to laugh. Jeanine certainly had a flair for the dramatic. Hence her weekly auditions for Broadway shows and musicals. It hadn't worked out so far, but I hoped someday she'd get her break. "What was he like?" she asked, pulling me down onto the couch.
How to describe him? His deep chocolatey eyes, light brown hair, and voice that sent shivers down my spine even now were hard to put into words that didn’t make me sound like a fangirl. The way he looked at me, it made me twist and squirm in my seat.
"He was nice. Relieved to have found his daughter. He said his people would be in touch with me about some papers or something they need me to sign."
"Maybe he's giving you a reward," Roy said, intruding as ever, chugging my orange juice, the one with my name written on it, directly out of the carton before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I bit my tongue.
"I'm sure it's not. I didn't do anything. She found me," I said, turning back to Jeanine.
"I've seen him on the cover of a bunch of magazines and that big campaign he did last month to raise money for wells in Africa. He seems so nice," she said, bouncing. He did seem nice in all those interviews and articles I'd seen over the years. But our interaction hadn't been like that. It was different. Made me feel different. Like I wasn’t in the presence of one of the world’s youngest billionaires, most generous benefactors, and eligible bachelors.
My stomach knotted like I'd been called into the principal's office for doing nothing wrong. He sized me up, scrutinizing me. Trying to figure me out. And I didn't know if I wanted him to. As screwed up as I was, I'm sure he'd try to press charges on me for trying to steal his kid.
5
Rhys
Melanie Bright. Her name stuck in my mind, along with the rest of her as I replayed our run-in at the diner. She’d kept Esme safe, taken care of her after she’d run off. That should have been the end of it. But I couldn’t get her out of my mind. The scenes replaying in my head drove me insane. I was not a man who fawned over a woman. I wasn’t a man who bought flowers and chocolates and showed up with a limo. The world thought I was the perfect bachelor, rich, good-looking, widowed, but really, I was just a fucked up guy who didn’t want to go down the path of marriage again. Couldn’t let someone have control over my actions, my thoughts, or my heart, which was why Melanie Bright pissed me off.
Derek walked in with a handful of files in his hand.
“I’ve got the files of the agencies to twenty personnel. I took the liberty of going through them myself and narrowing it down to these five.” He held the folders out to me.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. It wouldn’t work.
“Take a look at them. There are some really good guys in here. There’s even one woman. Ex-military, excellent references.”
“No.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him. He went into statue sentry mode, which he did whenever he was nervous. “You. That’s who Esme needs.”
“Thayer, we’ve been over this.”
“We have and I don’t know why you think it won’t work. She likes you.” I rounded my desk and grabbed a glass from the bar cart. The silver and glass clinked as I poured two drinks. The amber liquor sloshed into the tumbler and I held out one of the glasses to Derek.
“Come on.” I motioned to the glass.
“I’m on the clock,” he said, his arms plastered across his chest.
“And I’m the boss. Have a drink.”
Derek relented and took the glass from my hand. I took a sip, letting the oaky flavor burn its way down my throat.
“Why don’t you think you can do it?”
“She’s a little girl. She doesn’t need someone like me towering over her like a walking nightmare.” He gulped down half his drink. For some reason, Derek thought he was a bad guy. I had no idea why. His professionalism was unmatched. His recommendations were all top-notch and he’d never missed a day of work. Plus, he hadn’t let my six-year-old wander out into the city streets on her own.
“After what happened with the diner, there’s no one I trust more.”
“She doesn’t like me. She doesn’t even talk to me,” he said, swirling his drink in the crystal tumbler.
“It’s nothing personal, Derek. She doesn’t talk to anyone, except for me.”
“And Melanie…” Derek let that hang in the air between us. He took a sip of his drink, enjoying my discomfort at the mention of her. And Melanie.
Melanie’s presence in my head unsettled me. I didn’t like it and I’d have to remove her from my mind. The only issue was Esme. She liked her. She’d asked for her a few times already. Maybe I could wait her out. Wait for her to forget about the waitress with legs that didn’t quit and a waist I wouldn’t mind wrapping my hands around. And there she was again, invading my head. I flung myself back from my desk and ran my hands through my hair. This did not bode well for me. I needed to focus. I didn’t need any distractions right now.
“What do you think about her?”
“Her file checks out. She was nice and Esme talked to her. I’d say that’s about as close as you can get to perfect,” he said, draining his glass.
There was a gentle knock on the door. Derek swung it open and Rachel stood in the doorway. Her arms were full of binders and her tablet balanced precariously on top. Her hair flew every which way. She was a fairly new assistant to me. Her father asked me to do him a favor, but keep that quiet from her. I knew the things a dad would do to make his daughter happy, so I went along with it. Plus, he promised me his vote for all my upcoming charity board elections.
Derek plucked the binders from her arms and put them on my solid oak desk. My father’s desk. I hated that fucking thing.
“Hi, Rachel.” I drained the last of my drink.
“Hi, Mr. Thayer,” she said, out of breath. I shot her a look. “I mean Rhys. Sorry.” Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. Mr. Thayer was my father.
“I wanted to bring over your files for the meetings this week.” She stacked the binders in two neat piles in front of my chair. I flipped through some of the papers. One week’s worth of meetings.
Serving on the boards meant Esme and I could maintain a certain lifestyle. My little girl only got the best. The t
erms of my parents’ will were draconian, but I’d make sure she never had to deal with something like that. Never doubted how much I cared about her and I lost my shit when she went missing. It wasn’t like her. She didn’t wander. She didn’t even talk. At least she didn’t before.
“Is there anything else you need me for?” Rachel said, her hands clasped in front of her. I glanced outside and the sun had set ages ago.
“No, sorry, Rachel. You can go.” Rachel gathered her tablet and hopped up. I sat at the desk. Derek followed her out.
“Derek, I’m not taking no for an answer on this one. Until we find someone better, you’re her shadow.” He gave me a grim nod before following Rachel out. With them both gone, my mind wandered back to Melanie.
She got Esme to speak. She’d changed something in my little girl. I’d noticed it immediately. She didn’t shy away as much around other people. Her confidence, which had been nonexistent before, grew every day. Esme even reenacted her bit of heroics with Melanie’s cuts with her stuffed animals.
Melanie had done something in a few hours that so many others, professionals in their fields, had failed to accomplish. I didn’t know if I could just walk away from that. I wanted to know more and it irritated me to no end.
Maybe I could just get her out of my system, fuck her and move on, but I doubted it would work, especially if Esme wanted her around and connected with her. I didn’t want to screw my kid up any more than I already had. I was stuck.
Fuck her and forget her wasn’t going to work. And that shook me to my core. That was how I worked. How I made sure my encounters with women were on terms I dictated. It was how I’d survived in the years since my wife died. I didn’t know if I could take a chance on her. My desire to rid myself of this infatuation might end up breaking all my rules.
The last woman I was with stormed out after I told her the score and what she could and couldn’t do. There were rules to how I had to live my life for Esme’s sake and no one could interfere with that.
I screwed a woman until I was tired of her and threw her back. Used them like they wanted to use me. I was under no illusions that if it weren’t for my money, influence, and looks, a woman would want nothing to do with me. Hell, I didn’t even think my looks mattered. I could have a horn growing out of my forehead and a woman would tell me how she’d always wanted to ride a unicorn. I learned that lesson early, made the mistake once and wasn’t going to make it again.
I didn’t think about a woman. I thought about women, in the abstract. If I wanted a redhead, a brunette, a blonde. Maybe even a woman with rainbow hair or that gray thing some chicks were doing.
But I hadn’t had a single woman stuck in my head for a long time. It unsettled me. I chalked it up to her helping my daughter. A daughter no man should ever think about like I thought about women.
The plans I’d put in place were coming together. I didn’t need distractions. My full inheritance was only a few months away. I’d no longer be the marionette dancing to my dead parents’ strings. But I had to continue to fulfill the terms of the will and that meant wearing this mask just a bit longer. I’d bided my time this long, what was a few more months? Then I could finally have the life I deserved, the life no longer under the thumb of two people who didn’t give a shit about me. They had their masks as well. Caring, doting parents in public, but in private, I don’t think I saw them more than once a week.
6
Rhys
"Daddy, can I go see Mel today?" Esme waltzed into my room when the sun had barely crested above the horizon a few days after her runaway incident. I could barely pry my eyes open. I’d only managed to get to sleep a couple of hours ago.
Esme asked this same question every day, multiple times a day since it happened. So much for hoping she’d forget. The orange glow cast long shadows over the city as I glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows that ringed our fiftieth-floor apartment. I stretched my arms overhead and yawned.
“You didn’t get to spend enough time with her before?" I patted the bed beside me.
“No, I want to see her again,” she said, bouncing in place.
“Why, Esme?”
"I like her. She’s pretty, she’s nice, she gave me hot chocolate, and I got to help fix her. She hurt herself and I gave her one of my hankies and I made it better. And then she took care of me." She flopped back on the bed and bounced her feet up and down.
I gathered her up in my arms. Every day, I marveled at how lucky I was to have her. When I looked at her, I saw the best in her mother. The things that were the first to go when her addiction took hold. Her kindness and openness.
Esme didn’t ask for much, so when she did it meant it was serious. It didn't make sense. I couldn't understand what it was about Melanie that Esme couldn’t let go of. The things I liked about her, but the assets Melanie displayed to me were not the same ones my daughter admired. I needed to figure this out before I moved forward with my plan. Ensure there wasn't something I missed.
"You've had plenty of people take care of you, Esme. Why do you want to see Melanie?"
"I want to see if her owie is better. She was bleeding and I saw her and it made me sad. I wanted to help her. I wanted to make her happy,” Esme said, beaming and bouncing on my bed. I couldn’t help but smile. I loved this little girl. I loved her more than anything I ever thought possible. And it looked like my do-gooder ways were rubbing off on her. “Maybe she could come here. I could show her my room.”
“I think it’s a great plan, Esme.” I think that could be arranged. I needed something from Melanie and I was sure we could come to an agreement. One way or another she would help us. She’d been able to crack through Esme’s shell and I wasn’t going to let her shrink back inside, not when there was so much at stake—for both of us.
7
Rhys
My afternoon plans were thrown off by an urgent call from Rachel. Documents had been sent over from all the foundations I sat on the boards of with notifications of previously unannounced elections taking place at the end of the year. This didn’t happen. It never happened. It was every organization I belonged to, which sent the warning bells off in my head. Something was going on.
“Rachel, I need you to get to the bottom of this. Figure out what’s going on and report back to me. I need to know who’s behind this.” I ended the call and stared out over the city, my hands shoved deep in my pockets. It was the place I’d called home for the past ten years. Home. The clouds on the horizon churned and brewed with something ominous and I needed to know what it was so I could put a stop to it. There was so much more at stake than money.
The massive amounts of money I threw at these organizations meant my seats were always secure, until now. I closed myself up in my office. The familiar smells of wood and leather calmed me as I slid behind the desk I hated and poured through the documents myself, looking for some indication of what might have pushed everyone to call these elections all at once. I knew who was behind it, but I still didn’t understand why. Losing a seat would completely screw over the plans I had for Esme and me.
The door creaked open and Esme came barreling in with her coloring books and crayons in hand.
“Can I color, Daddy?” The pages of her coloring book rustled as she lay down in front of the large windows, everything fanned out in front of her.
“Of course.” Maybe I should just walk away from everything. Take her and go. No, I’d sacrificed so much already, I was at least going to make sure my little girl came out on the other end of this without a care in the world. She sat in the corner coloring as I flipped through folder after folder. She was perfectly content.
I needed to get out of this office, this building. In the breaks from worrying about what the loss of these seats might do to me, my mind drifted to Melanie.
“Hey, Es. Do you want to go see Melanie right now?” I said, standing from my desk. Esme immediately perked up and ran to put on her coat. I grabbed the folder off the desk Rachel had dropped off earlier
. Now was the perfect time to let Melanie Bright know she would be working for me by the end of the day.
8
Mel
The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air. Shannon had on her funny frog oven mitts. I loved it when she would talk to me in the funny voices with those. But now my eyes were glued to the chocolate chip cookies she pulled out of the oven.
“Back up, Mel. These are super-hot.” She set the tray on the stove and grabbed the second tray.
“Can I have one now?” The smell overpowered me. I wanted to gobble up every single one right now. My feet kicked back and forth in my chair at the kitchen table. My homework was spread out in front of me along with a tall glass of milk. Carrots and grapes were in a little bowl. My brain food, Shannon called them.
“Not until after dinner. These are because you did such a great job at your violin recital.” I’d been so nervous. I had only been playing for a few months, but the instructor said I was a natural.
“Please, can I have one now?” I put on my best dopey puppy face, sticking out my bottom lip. Shannon burst out laughing.
“Okay, fine, kiddo. But you better eat all your veggies at dinner.” She picked up one of the piping hot cookies off the tray and put it on a small plate in front of me. I loved her so much. I wrapped my arms around her waist and hugged her to me. She always smelled so good.
“I love you, Shannon.”
“I love you too, kiddo,” she said, rustling my hair.
I jolted awake, covered in sweat. My heart thundered in my chest. The same nightmare plagued me for years. I’d never been able to shake it. I glanced over and jumped.
Roy’s knees were the first thing I saw. He sat on the coffee table, less than two feet away. Any other time, I’d roll over and pray he’d go away. It wasn’t the first time I’d caught him watching me. But I couldn’t afford to make waves.