Entangled (The Accidental Billionaires #2) - J. S. Scott Page 0,9
Sinclairs. We stuck together. “I’ll let you know,” I grumbled.
He folded his arms in front of himself stubbornly. “We are in business together. It would be kind of nice to know when I can speak to you without risking getting my head taken off.”
Seth and I had moved our real-estate-developing company to what was now called the Sinclair Building in downtown Citrus Beach. It had been easier than operating from our home offices, since the company was exploding. Eli spent his weekends and other time off here in Citrus Beach, and we took all the advice we could get from our biggest investor. Eli Stone had been instrumental in helping the development company grow so quickly. Seth and I had been more than happy to let Eli invest, especially since he brought so many nonmonetary resources along with him.
“I’ll be in on Monday,” I informed him grimly. Seth was my best friend. Not that I’d completely forget that he’d screwed me when he’d taken that letter. But he was my brother.
It was Friday night, so I’d have a few days to calm down.
I dug my keys out from the pocket of my jeans and walked away without looking back at Seth.
I planned on using the next few days to figure out the mystery of why Skye thought she had a right to be angry at me.
Seth was right.
There was no way I was going to be able to look at Skye as just a small part of my history until I knew the truth.
CHAPTER 3
SKYE
The next morning, I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Aiden didn’t know that he was Maya’s father.
Really, it had been so much easier to think that he knew but just didn’t give a damn, and had never let any of his siblings know that they had a niece.
Jade would have said something if she’d known that Maya was her blood.
“Mommy, if I did something bad, should I tell you?” my daughter asked me in a very grave tone.
I smiled at her as I watched her devour her breakfast at the small table we’d claimed when I’d opened the café.
I had plenty of weekend help, but since most of them were college students, I still opened and closed the restaurant on the weekends, too. And since I brought Maya with me, I generally fed her breakfast here on Saturday and Sunday.
It was the beginning of spring, so only a few of the other tables were occupied. It would get busier later, but it was still early in the season. So there weren’t that many tourists in this smaller coastal city.
“What did you do wrong?” I asked, trying not to laugh at my daughter’s serious expression. She’d gotten my attention by calling me Mommy, something she rarely did anymore unless she was in trouble.
It was hard to believe my beautiful girl could do anything all that bad. Usually, she was a quiet, thoughtful child. She was a gifted reader and writer, and she could breeze through books meant for high-school kids. Not that I let her read them all. Even though she was capable, Maya was very much a child and couldn’t understand some of the complex emotional subjects, even if she could read them cover-to-cover.
She was brilliant, but her mind still thought like an eight-year-old.
My daughter looked so much like her father that my heart squeezed inside my chest. It was a miracle that nobody had ever really seemed to notice. Her dark hair and blue eyes were like copies of Aiden’s.
“I really wanted to find my real dad,” she said hesitantly.
My heart tripped as I looked at her sad expression. Maya had always known that Marco wasn’t her biological father. I’d made it a point to tell her as soon as she was old enough to understand, since my ex-husband had treated my daughter like she didn’t exist. Still, I guess I hadn’t realized how curious she was about the man who was her real biological father.
“I didn’t know you wanted to find him,” I answered.
She nodded slowly. “I did. I just didn’t want you to be sad.”
I wasn’t shocked that she’d picked up on my emotions. But I was surprised that I’d shown any reaction. I’d pretty much learned to bury most of my feelings.
“So what did you do, then? Tell me.”
“I got my DNA tested. I have an aunt right here in Citrus Beach. Somebody matched. She wrote to me and told me she lives here, and that