by Floyd, Jacie
“Can’t you picture Mother dressed in Versace and cooking a gourmet meal in a kitchen that hadn’t been remodeled since the Truman administration?” Natalie threw him a nostalgic grin.
Propping his shoulder against an eighteenth century armoire, Dylan turned back to Lawrence. “What more do you know about this?”
“Not much, but I believe it ties in with this other business.” The lawyer squared his shoulders. “Last year, your mother received a letter of inquiry from a young man claiming to be your father’s son.”
“That’s impossible.” Dylan looked to his sister for agreement.
Natalie and Linc wore matching expressions of disbelief. Linc slipped his arm around her and pulled her against him.
Natalie echoed Dylan’s opinion. “Impossible.”
Dylan turned back to Lawrence. “What type of ‘inquiry’?”
“Yes, and by whom?” Linc asked.
“What does the claimant want?” Natalie finished. “Money?”
Lawrence opened a file on the desk. “His name is Clayton Harris. He said he’d simply like to have the matter of his paternity confirmed. Apparently he bears a marked similarity in appearance to the Bradford men. And it’s long been the rumor in the town where he was raised.”
“Rumor!” The word exploded from Dylan’s mouth like a curse. “Why the hell would you allow Mother to be distressed during her last months over a bloody rumor?”
Lawrence stiffened at the criticism. “She corresponded with the young man without immediately taking me into her confidence.”
“She wouldn’t have done that,” Natalie insisted. “She always said that acknowledging rumors only gave them credence.”
“Apparently, the gist of her response was that there was no truth to the story and the young man should look elsewhere for his paternity.” Lawrence’s lips thinned into a disapproving line. “He threatened to take your father’s estate to court if she didn’t take the allegation seriously.”
Another recent memory slipped through Dylan’s confusion and clicked into place. “That explains why Mother asked me to promise not to let anyone dishonor Dad’s name after her death. I thought she was concerned about the Karen Hammonds tell-all.”
Natalie sniffed at the reference to their father’s flamboyant ex-press secretary.
“I guess it was this jerk she feared.” Just then another possibility reared its ugly head. “Wait a minute, who’s his mother?”
Lawrence flipped through the document. “The woman’s name was Lana Harris.”
“Never heard of her.” Dylan resumed his slouch against the armoire, only slightly relieved to hear that Karen Hammond wasn’t involved in the scam. Not at first glance, anyway.
“Does she claim she slept with Dad before or after he married Mother?” Natalie asked.
“After, of course.” Dylan didn’t hesitate to make the guess. “It wouldn’t be scandalous or noteworthy otherwise.”
“Actually, the woman hasn’t claimed anything,” Lawrence said. “She lived in East Langden, but she disappeared exactly one week before your father’s death.”
“Curious timing,” Natalie murmured.
The hair stood up on the back of Dylan’s neck. Neither the family nor the authorities had ever been satisfied that all the facts had been uncovered regarding Matthew Bradford’s drowning twenty-five years earlier. Now, a new wrinkle added to the mysterious circumstances.
“What steps have you taken to discredit this lie?” Natalie asked.
“We hired a detective.” Lawrence dipped his chin and looked at the trio over his reading glasses. “The investigation has been inconclusive, I’m sorry to say.”
“Have you asked Uncle Arthur about it?” His father’s younger brother would be the obvious source of information.
“Your mother wanted to hold off on that, but I’m afraid we can’t put it off much longer. The matter has suddenly become more urgent.”
“Why?”
“With her death, the young man is no longer prepared to wait. If there’s no word from the Bradford family before the foundation awards ceremony on July first, he says he’ll take his story to the press.”
“But that’s only five weeks away.” An uncharacteristic curse escaped Natalie’s lips. “Normally, I’d say let the jerk do his worst, but I don’t want the awards diminished because of some disgruntled nutcase.”
Lawrence nodded. “The negative publicity would certainly tarnish the event’s shiny image.”
“Has he requested DNA testing?” A slow anger at the bastard’s audacity scalded its way through Dylan’s stomach.
“Ultimately, I believe that’s what he’s after, but no papers have been filed.” Lawrence blinked. “If you wish to lay the matter to rest, the request could come from the Bradford family.”
“No.” Dylan rejected the idea with a slash of his hand.
“Why not?” Natalie asked. “That might be the quickest way to disprove the accusation.”
“That would imply we’re entertaining the possibility of a link between this man and our father. I think it’s too soon for that. Let’s make him produce something more substantial than a ‘rumor’ before we give him what he wants.”
“I agree,” Linc offered. “If you don’t insist on hard evidence, you’d be laying the groundwork for anyone out there with blue eyes and big feet to claim a relationship.”
A familiar expression of Bradford stubbornness stole across Natalie’s face. “What could be more decisive evidence than a DNA test?”
“Mother asked me to protect and honor our father’s good name. I didn’t know this threat existed, but she wouldn’t want me to allow the first schemer to come along to muddy Dad’s reputation within a week of her death.”
“You’re pretending to be reasonable, but you’re seething inside,” Natalie observed. “That’s never a good sign.”
Because she was right, Dylan ignored her. The discontent that had dogged him lately, combined with the sorrow and helplessness over his mother’s death, now coalesced into a plan. Propelled by his mother’s request, along with his own desire to preserve his father’s reputation, adrenaline shot through him. He shook off the emotional and physical lethargy that lingered after the inactive weeks spent at his mother’s side.
“Let’s see the detective’s report.” He loosened his tie and reached for the folder.
Natalie studied him. “What are you cooking up?”
He understood her dread that his restlessness would lead him into trouble, but he also knew she’d chafe at being sidelined by her pregnancy. The two of them had raced neck and neck in their quest for adventure most of their lives. But now, her focus had narrowed to her own little family. Just as it should. Dylan would take care of the bigger picture. “It might be a good idea for me to go look over my East Langden property.”
Her eyebrows flew up to her hairline. “When?”
“The sooner the better. Apparently, we don’t have much time.”
“Tell me what you’re planning,” she said, still skeptical.
He owed her the truth. They weren’t children anymore, and this wasn’t a prank. He told himself that this was something he had to do. For his parents and for himself. For Natalie and her children. “I’m going to do my damnedest to blow Clayton Harris’s claim sky high.
The Billionaire Brotherhood Begins
On one of the worst days of their lives and the history of the country, three boys with nothing in common except their privileged upbringings form a bond of friendship that lasts through years of personal struggles and triumphs. Wyatt is the intellectual, Dylan is the daredevil, and Ryan is the easy-going athlete.
Acknowledgements
My most important resource is the community of writers surrounding me. This includes all of the inspiring and talented women of The Ruby-Slippered Sisterhood, The Pixie Chicks, The Lucky 13s, the Fivecorners, and The Golden Network. I am so grateful to have all of these talented and supportive women in my world.
Sp
ecial thanks to my daughter Sarah. I could not have accomplished this without her technical expertise. In 2013, she urged me to consider self-publishing my manuscripts. In 2014, she almost single-handedly made it happen. In 2015, we’re still going strong.
Thank you to my son Evan, for encouraging me to write and always making me laugh.
Additional thanks to editor-extraordinaire Annie Oortman, mega-talented cover designer Kim Killion of The Killion Group, and excellent Beta Readers Annie W., Sarah P., and Denise J.
The McNattons and the Floyds are the people who formed me and shaped me throughout my life. For good or bad, they made me the person I am. I’ll always be grateful for their love and support.
Last but not least, thank you, Goble, for making all my dreams come true. You are the love and the light of my life.
About the author
Jacie Floyd writes contemporary romance, romantic comedy, and emotionally-rich stories about the kind of strong women and bold men you want to read about and know.
From the time she read her first Nancy Drew mystery, she's been an avid reader and writer in a variety of genres. After many years as a wife and mother with a nine-to-five job, the desire to create her own stories became her obsession. While polishing her craft as an unpublished author, she was honored to be named a six-time Golden Heart Finalist and two-time Golden Heart winner by the Romance Writers of America. Finally giving in to the inevitable, she abandoned her day job in order to self-publish the kind of stories she likes to read and write. She hopes you like them, too.
Table of Contents
The Brotherhood Begins
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Thank you!
Books by Jacie Floyd
Daring Dylan Excerpt
The Billionaire Brotherhood Begins
Acknowledgements
About the author