Endeared (The Accidental Billionaires #5) - J. S. Scott Page 0,62
worked. “I didn’t know, and Layla and I were close friends.”
I felt slightly guilty about leaving the clinic a little early, and asking Layla to do rounds again, but she’d cheerfully assured me she didn’t mind if I had errands to run.
Because that’s just the kind of woman she was: always willing to help somebody with anything if it made their life easier.
“Hell, I’m not sure I want to hold you back,” Aiden grumbled from the passenger seat.
“Me either,” Seth seconded.
“I want answers,” I explained. “I want to confront him so he can’t forget the girl he abandoned. But I’m also not willing to throw my life away on somebody like him. I need to be around to make damn sure that Layla is never alone again. She came through everything okay, and she’s the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever known. Now that I finally have a chance with her, I’m not losing it because of a lowlife bastard,” I said irritably.
“You’re right,” Seth agreed. “No murder.”
“Got it,” Aiden concurred as I parked, and we all exited the vehicle.
During my research into Brent Caine, I’d discovered that he’d been an international tour guide for years with a big tour company. Eventually, he’d landed a management job in their home office in San Diego, a position that didn’t require him to travel anymore.
He’d been close to Layla for years, and had never even checked up on her.
To make things even worse, he’d remarried, and had two more children with his current wife.
I really hoped that the mother of his other children was a hell of a lot better than Layla’s mother had been.
As we exited the elevator, the receptionist sitting right next to the office entrance inquired, “Do you have an appointment?”
“I need to see Brent Caine,” I answered abruptly, annoyed that my mission had been delayed.
Seth elbowed his way in front of me and gave the older woman a charming smile. “Seth Sinclair,” he said as he handed her a business card he’d pulled out of his pocket. “I’m the CEO of Sinclair Properties. My brothers and I need to have a meeting with Caine. I’m thinking of doing a very large destination celebration for my company’s anniversary. I need to get things going on that immediately.”
The woman sat up straight so abruptly that the glasses perched on the end of her nose nearly hit the floor. “Mr. Sinclair,” she said, sounding flustered as she glanced at the card. “Oh, you are the Citrus Beach Sinclairs.”
If I hadn’t been so full of rage, I probably would have laughed at the expression of awe on her face.
Never in a million years had I ever thought that one of my brothers would command that kind of reverent greeting, but she was looking at Seth like he was a god of some kind.
Really, maybe he deserved it. He’d made a damn good reputation for himself with Sinclair Properties already, and it was hardly a secret to the world that our entire family had inherited billions from the already well-known East Coast Sinclairs.
Obviously, the woman knew exactly who was standing in front of her as she said, “Oh, I’m sure Mr. Caine would be happy to see you. Go right on in. He’s not in with another appointment right now.”
Seth nodded. “Thank you. We’ll do that,” he told her as he headed straight for the door she’d pointed toward.
I moved in front of him and barged through the heavy wooden door first.
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but Brent Caine looked like any other middle-aged guy as he rose from the office chair behind his desk. “Can I help you gentlemen?” he asked, sounding confused, but amiable enough.
Layla has his eyes.
The guy was average height and a little bit overweight, and he had ever-changing, deep-blue eyes that I’d only seen on one other person in the world.
“Owen, Seth, and Aiden Sinclair,” Aiden said flatly. “That’s all the greeting that you’re going to get. I don’t shake hands with shitty fathers.”
I knew Layla’s father recognized the Sinclair name, because I could suddenly see green dollar signs where those blue eyes like Layla’s had been just seconds ago.
“I’m in love with your daughter,” I informed him.
He looked taken aback. “My daughter is only ten years old.”
Christ! Was he serious? The bastard wouldn’t even acknowledge the fact that Layla existed?
I crossed my arms in front of me. “I’m talking about Layla.”
The dollar signs disappeared, and his eyes became an icy blue. “I wrote her off a long