The Barringtons.
That’s it.
“Sophie would know how to handle this.” He dug his phone out of his jacket breast pocket.
“You’re serious.”
The disbelief in his tone gave Connor a moment of pause. “I would call my sister, but she and the rest of the Barrington ladies are helping Claire gear up for the wedding. I don’t want to lay any of this at their door.”
“What do you expect Sophie to do?”
“She’ll probably call a family meeting.”
“Hang on. You honestly believe all you have to do is make a phone call and the Barringtons will drop everything they’re doing and rush to meet with you?”
“Yes. That’s what family does.” God, how was Bradford raised?
“This I have to see.”
With that, Connor called the matriarch of one of the country’s most powerful families.
She picked up immediately just as he knew she would. “Connor, Dale and I were just talking about you. Will we see you Sunday for game night?”
“Actually, I’m hoping you have time to see me before then.”
“Of course.” Her voice filled with concern. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes, very wrong. Could you gather everyone? At least the men? I’m in need of advice.”
“Do you want us to come to you?”
“No, I can fly up.”
“Then get in the air. If you’re quick about it, we’ll have your favorite dinner waiting for you.”
“Carbonara,” Connor said with a good amount of yearning. He could almost taste pancetta and pasta dripping with a creamy parmigiano reggaino cheese sauce and a generous amount of pepper and garlic. Oh, yes. No, this isn’t about food. He shook his head to clear it. “You don’t have to do that, Sophie, but please don’t tell Viviana about this call. Or Claire. I don’t want them to worry.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No, but I’m open to suggestions on how to keep it that way while addressing a certain situation.” Connor started pacing the room again. He was a spontaneous man by nature. Thinking things through had never been his strong suit, but there was no returning to the innocent time in his life where he could have run buck naked across a football field as a prank and shocked next to no one.
His blinders were off now.
His family needed him to think first, leap later—and keep his clothes on while he did both. He’d heard that talk more than once over the past year.
No more heavy drinking.
No more bar fights.
Sex only with women he knew the names of.
Being rich was not nearly as freeing as people made it sound. “A friend of mine has recently been unfairly terminated from her position. Bradford has been helping me with a project and thinks the situation might be complicated.”
“Ian’s Bradford?”
“The one and only.”
“Sounds serious.”
“It is. If this were all going down in my hometown I’d know how to handle it, but I understand that my actions reflect on the whole family. I don’t want to do this wrong.”
“I’ll have all the boys here at seven. Would that work for you?”
“Perfect. Hey, do you think we should ask Clay? He hates to miss anything.”
“As long as you take his advice with a grain of salt.”
“I will. I would like to hear his opinion. He doesn’t pull any punches.” Connor looked across the room. “Bradford will probably—” He stopped when Bradford shook his head vehemently. “It’ll just be me. See you at seven. Thank you, Sophie.”
“Hang on, Dale wants to say something.”
Connor swallowed hard. His own father had a booming voice when he was angry, but a look of disappoint from Dale cut deeper. He commanded respect quietly. Men stood straighter around him, swore less. “Hi, Dale.”
“A family meeting? Must be something serious. May I ask the name of this friend you’re concerned about?”
“Her name is Angelina Kroll.”
“Have you mentioned her before?”
“No, sir.”
“Describe her to me.”
Connor closed his eyes as Angelina’s image came back to him so vividly his heart started racing. He couldn’t easily reduce someone as dynamic as she was down like that. He almost said beautiful, but she was more than that. Gorgeous. Stunning. Impossible to forget. He considered describing her as intelligent, witty, fantastically sarcastic. As memories from their time together filled his head, a funny warmth swept through him and he sighed. Not just smart, not just beautiful, but brave too. Someone who couldn’t stand by and watch someone suffer without stepping in. “Strong. Brave. Intelligent. Beautiful. And probably doubting herself even though she did the right thing. She makes me wish I were a smarter man.”
Dale made a sound in his throat. “Come on home, son. We’ll help you figure this out. Should we call your father as well? How about Dylan?”
“Dad, yes. Dylan, no. He’s filming on location in Iceland. This is a big opportunity for him. I don’t want to distract him.”
“See you at seven, then. We’ll fly your father in as well.”
“Thanks, Dale.”
Connor ended the call there. After pocketing the phone, he looked up to find Bradford watching him.
“I don’t get it,” Bradford said.
With a nod, Connor clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know. But one day you will. You’re sure you don’t want to come with me?”
“Positive.”
“What will you do?”
“Once I get the scent of a dirtbag I can’t walk away until I know everything.”
“And then?”
“Then I handle the situation.”
“Do you want me to stay?” Suddenly it didn’t feel right to leave.
“No, I want you to go have some Carbonara then get your girlfriend and her son as far from this situation as you can.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“There is always a price to be paid for getting involved. If you’re not willing to pay it, you don’t belong in the game.”
“I don’t understand you sometimes.”
“There’s not much more dangerous than the desperate. When I take this guy down, and I will, he’s going to try to pin his sins on anyone he can. You don’t want your woman anywhere around him.”
Connor nodded. He looked at the Aristotle book on his desk. Screw moderation. “This is a pretty busy office. I could use a second secretary. If you see Mrs. Tellier again, tell her I’ll match her salary as long as she promises to proofread Kimmie’s novels. She’s been looking for another editor.”
“I’ll do that. Is this the kind of position that comes with a signing bonus and a month off before she starts?”
“It’s exactly that kind of position.”
Bradford frowned. “I don’t like very many people, but I like you. Don’t put yourself down. You’re good just the way you are.”
Connor smiled. “Thanks, Bradford.” He glanced down at his phone. “I need to get going. I can’t be late for dinner. Sophie’s cook makes biscuits fresh every day.” His stomach growled in anticipation.
Bradford laughed. “I’ll contact you if there’s anything you need to know.”
Back at Kimmie’s desk, Connor said, “Kimmie, I’m going out of town. Get the helicopter prepped. Have my housekeeper pack my bags and send them over. Oh, and order a second desk for this office. I just found you an editor.”
She’d been in worse places. Angelina sat on the couch in the house her aunt had left her and sipped on a steaming cup of chai.
Day one of what Whitney called their freedom was going as well as it could. He looked over the websites of countless schools with her and had agreed to visit some the following week. He hadn’t even balked when she’d given him a list of interview questions and essay topics the schools had requested.
She’d spent a good amount of time after that ma
king sure they’d still have health insurance and securing digital copies of Whitney’s school portfolio as well as her annual job performance reviews. Thank God she had friends in the main office as well as the human resource department. Most likely Mr. Svete wouldn’t have a reason to mess with either file, but she was of the opinion that it was always better to be safe than sorry.
Around lunchtime, she updated her résumé and sent it out to several private schools as well as colleges. She was good at what she did, but she had no idea what kind of reference Mr. Svete would give her. By law, he wasn’t supposed to say more than how long she was employed, but he was a nasty enough man to break that law simply out of spite. He’d know prosecuting him for it wasn’t worth emptying her financial nest egg. And unless he did it in writing, things like that were difficult to prove.
I refuse to worry about something that hasn’t happened yet.
When her phone chirped with a text, she gladly reached for the distraction of it.
It was Mrs. Tellier. How are you today?
Angelina responded: We’re good. Did you get to the doctor?
I did. He just wanted to warn me that my cholesterol was up again. Said I could either change my diet or start medicine for it. I asked him if having more sex would help. He didn’t laugh.
Angelina did. What was she like at my age? Relief flooded through her at news that Mrs. Tellier’s health condition wasn’t more serious. How is the office today?
Mrs. Tellier: I wouldn’t know. I took the day off to go shopping for healthier food for my fridge. I get nauseous just thinking about going back to the office and looking at Mr. Svete after the way he treated you.
That was heartbreaking to hear. We’re okay. How it happened was a bit of a shock, but sometimes change is good. Don’t let him win again by saying anything to him about it. You need that job.
Mrs. Tellier: I should have spoken my mind yesterday. I regret that I didn’t. Everyone told me to tell you they’ll miss you.
Thank you.
Mrs. Tellier: So, have you heard from Connor Sutton?
Angelina read the question twice before answering. No. Why do you ask?
Mrs. Tellier: I told his bodyguard all about how you stood up for me and what Mr. Svete did.
Angelina: What?!? When?
Mrs. Tellier: While he was helping me load my groceries into my car. What a nice man Bradford is. So, sad, though. You can see it in his eyes.
Wait, Bradford shops where Mrs. Tellier does? No.
But if it wasn’t a coincidence . . . that means Bradford was there with the intention of what? Talking to Mrs. Tellier? Why?
What did Connor Sutton want?
She went back over their time together. Yes, there had been a spark of attraction, but then she’d offended him.
She remembered him asking if things really were that bad at the school.
And her answer.
Had she left him with the impression that the school was dangerous? She hoped not.
If that were the case, had Connor sent his bodyguard to watch over them?
She put her phone down on her lap for a second as she mulled over how she’d feel about it if he had. Aunt Rudi had always said that the only happy woman was an independent one. Most of the time Angelina agreed with that philosophy, but every once in a while she wished she had someone to tell her things would be okay.
Does that make me weak?
Aunt Rudi, didn’t you ever want someone who’d wrap his arms around you and just hold you?
I’m a strong, modern woman. I know I don’t need anyone.
But sometimes, I wish . . .
After taking a fortifying deep breath, Angelina picked up her phone and wrote: I’m applying to a slew of local schools. I know your work history. Would you like me to put in your name as well as mine? I hate the idea of you in the same office as that man.
Mrs. Tellier: I hate the idea of me there too. I’m going to give my two weeks and maybe use up my sick days. I should have done it a long time ago. You don’t have to worry about me, though. When one door closes another one opens. I believe that. It’ll be the same for you. You’ll see.
Angelina: Every adventure begins by taking a step forward.
Mrs. Tellier: Adventure. I need that. I’ve spent the last fifty years working hard and what did it get me? I’m quitting from the same desk I started at. Who knows? At my next job, I might just sleep my way to the top.
It was impossible not to smile at that. Just don’t write that on your résumé.
Her response was quick and hilarious. Or maybe that’s all my résumé will say—in bold letters.
Angelina was laughing out loud as she typed: I’ll check in on you tomorrow.
Mrs. Tellier: TTFN
Whitney walked into the living room. “What are you laughing about?”
Waving her phone at her son, Angelina said, “Mrs. Tellier.”
He sat on the arm of the couch. “Is she okay?”
“Yes, looks like she’ll be leaving the school as well.”
“I’m glad.”
“Me too.”
He slid down the arm onto the cushions. “I wrote two essays. They’re pretty good. Want to read them later?”
“Absolutely.”
“I finished the book I was reading, I’m not in the mood to start another. Want to watch a movie together?”
“Sure.” After her busy morning, Angelina could use a destressor. She flipped on the television and went to the movie section. Of course, Danger Doubled, came up as a suggestion.
Whitney leaned forward. “What was he like?”
Still pointing the remote at the television, Angelina stalled. “Connor Sutton?”
“Yes. All the girls at school talk about him. Their moms do too. Was he nice?”
She took a moment to answer then decided on something safe. “He was a good public speaker. We didn’t actually have that much time to get to know each other.”
What would he be like away from the school? On a date? In bed? Her body warmed as she imagined the possibilities.
Whitney gave her a long look. “Why is your face red?”
Time to choose a movie. She used voice control to ask for the sci-fi selections. The scarier, the better. Whitney liked them, and she needed to knock Connor out of her thoughts.
They settled on one about a space station being taken over by a carnivorous alien, but it wasn’t enough to stop Angelina from remembering Connor’s smile. Big-screen Connor, bare chested and romantic, melded with the more restrained reality of him. Which was the real him?
Did he look at every woman the way he’d looked at her?
Did they all want him to carry them off to his bed the way she had?
Fantasies were healthy, right?
She picked up her chai and hid her face in the cup, pretending to be interested in the movie while she imagined how Connor would kiss. He’d seemed too uptight at first, so distant . . . but she’d glimpsed another side, a deeper one. A side that had been there while he’d spoken to the soccer team, then again just before he’d left.
He might have sent Bradford to make sure they were okay.
If so, why hadn’t he called her?
And if he did call—didn’t she have too much going on right now to indulge in any of the things she’d just imagined doing with him?
She glanced over at her son who was too lost in the movie to notice she wasn’t. He was her priority—all that mattered.
Instead of trying to find meaning in something that was likely a coincidence, she’d be better off focusing on enrolling her son in a school and landing a new job. Although it was nice to imagine having someone beside her at night, she’d learned it wasn’t a requirement for happiness.
Thank you, Connor Sutton, for reminding me that I’m not dead from the waist down.
When the dust settles from this, I might actually have one of my friends set me up with the guys they keep telling me would be right for me.
While Mrs. Tellier
sleeps her way to being CEO of some company.
She coughed on a laugh and some of her drink went down her windpipe.
Whitney looked over. “You okay?”
She nodded, but inwardly conceded that the jury was still out on that.
Chapter Six
That evening Connor bounded up the front stairs of Sophie and Dale Barrington’s home. It was large but not flashy, which he’d initially found surprising. However, after getting to know them he realized that, although they were wealthy, they preferred to live a simple life.
Well, their version of simple. They didn’t fly commercial and he doubted Sophie had ever cleaned her own bathroom, but he didn’t hold that against them. What mattered most was the warmth with which they’d welcomed his family into theirs when his sister had married their son.
When Sophie threw open the door, Connor practically wiggled with joy like a tail-wagging Labrador seeing its person at the end of the day. She was the closest to having a mother he had, and just a smile from her somehow made even the most challenging day easier to bear. He swung her up into his arms. Everything a person needed to know about her was right there in the way she laughed and hugged him back. She was one hundred percent love.
Her husband, Dale, joined them, less open with his affection but his handshake was warm and his smile welcoming. When Viviana had first said she was marrying into the Barrington family, Connor had been afraid they’d lose her. He’d never imagined she’d take him, as well as his father and Dylan, along for the ride. He now had a herd of rich relatives and couldn’t imagine his life without them.
“You look well,” Dale said, closing the door after Connor walked through it.
“Thank you. I’m trying to work out more and drink less. So far, so good.”
“I have the same goal,” his father said as he joined them. Close to his height, Sean Sutton had also undergone a transformation since meeting the Barringtons. He looked relaxed in his tailored Italian suit, but Connor wondered if he also longed for simpler days.
“Dad, thanks for coming.”
“Always. You know that. I’m glad you didn’t ask Dylan to come. He would have, but he’s deep in filming. I spoke to him yesterday and he sounded happy, but stressed.”
Reluctantly Alpha (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 8) Page 7