Page 110 of Hometown Girl

Forgive me.

She glanced at him, probably confused by the mixed signals he sent, but he kept his gaze steady on the house in front of them.

When the gates opened, they passed through and drove up the driveway to the mansion at the back of the property.

“I did some research,” Beth said. “He built this house about thirty years ago and lives here with his son. No wife. I think she passed away a long time ago.”

“So it’s just him, his kid and his money.”

She turned off the engine. “And I imagine a whole staff of people to answer his beck and call.”

“Let’s go find out.”

The stone fountain at the center of the circle drive shot water into the air, making the grand spectacle that was the Biddle estate even grander. The mansion itself may’ve been Fairwind’s closest neighbor, but the two homes couldn’t have been more different. While Fairwind had farmhouse charm, the cover of ancient trees and green earth, the Biddle estate had an elaborate and stately appeal.

Drew waited for Beth to comment on the two-story stone structure in front of them, but even as a man let them into the entryway, complete with marble floors and a winding staircase, she said nothing.

The man led them into a study. “Have a seat. Mr.Biddle will be with you shortly.”

On one side of the room, a large fireplace with a thick white mantel held professional photos of a man who must have been Davis Biddle, shaking hands with important politicians and professional athletes.

After ten quiet minutes of watching Beth push buttons on her phone, Drew finally let out a sigh.

“Bet you wish you’d stayed behind,” she said without looking up.

Was she mad at him? He couldn’t blame her, as silent as he’d been. It wasn’t right to kiss a girl the way he’d kissed Beth and then refuse to talk about it the next day. He could’ve at least greeted her with a kiss this morning—anything to let her know he didn’t regret how things might’ve changed between them.

He only regretted that he’d allowed their relationship to grow under false pretenses.

Before he could say anything—as if he would’ve said anything—the oversized wooden door opened, and in walked a sturdy-looking man dressed in a neat suit and tie. He wore an indifferent expression on his face, like he might or might not have been aware of their presence in his office.

Drew waited for something about the man to strike a chord of familiarity, but nothing came. If he’d ever met Davis Biddle before, he certainly didn’t remember him now.

“I assume you’re Beth Whitaker?” The man sat in the chair behind his desk and looked at Beth.

She inched forward and stuck her hand out to greet him. “I am.”

He shook it—one firm shake—and then glanced at Drew. “I didn’t know you were bringing a guest.”

Beth tossed a glance in Drew’s direction. “He’s not a guest. He’s my grounds manager.”

Had she just made that title up on the spot? She didn’t even stutter. Something in her had changed, as if she’d become a different version of herself as soon as the man had entered the room. Maybe this was the Beth he’d seen traces of over the past few weeks. She had professionalism and confidence written all over her.

“I see.” Davis regarded Drew long enough to make him uncomfortable. “And your name?”

“Drew Barlow.” He stuck out a hand.

Davis paused for too many seconds before reciprocating the gesture. He hesitated before finally turning his attention back to Beth. “So you’ve considered my offer.”

Beth frowned. “Sir?”

“My assistant spoke with your sister after the auction.”

“She told me. And I suppose, yes, I am here about that, among other things.” Beth leaned forward in the chair. Drew couldn’t help but notice she looked stunning. She’d pulled her hair back and dressed up for the meeting, he assumed to impress the powerful man on the other side of the desk.

He tried to focus on her words instead of the way her black dress pants hugged her hips or how her sleeveless blouse dipped at her chest, showing a simple silver necklace with something he couldn’t read engraved on it.

“What kind of other things?” Davis folded his hands on the desk and stared at Beth. She stared right back. Drew felt like he was sitting too close to a Mexican standoff.

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