Page 46 of Grumpy Billionaire Seeking Wife

"Who is everyone?"

"All the women in New York who want to be with you, remember?" She bursts out laughing. "Didn't you say that every woman on Earth wanted you?"

"I do not recall saying that, no, but that wouldn't surprise me." I laugh now, suddenly feeling light for the first time this week. "I'll come up around 6 p.m.; does that work for you?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Hope you don't have to cancel any other plans you may have." I grin into the phone. "But I have to go now. I'll text you when I’m close to the campus." I hang up before she can change her mind and jump up. I need to process exactly what I want to happen tonight. What I want to say to her. What I want my role in her life to be. I debate telling her that I've wanted her for years, but I don't know if that makes me sound creepy. I don't want to come on too strong or overwhelm her with expressions and emotions that may make her uncomfortable. We need to get to know each other again as adults. As two human beings who are attracted to each other. I want to woo her. I think about the Tiffany's box and the other presents I've gotten for her. Fifteen in total, to make up for every birthday her dad had been gone and forgotten her. I've never given any of them to her. The idea only came to my mind on her eighteenth birthday when Erica had spent weeks trying to figure out what to get her. She made a comment that Sabrina's mom was never able to afford a gift, andher dad just ceased to exist in her life, so I had an idea to try and make that up to her. I should have known I was falling for her then. I debate taking one of the gifts with me tonight, but quickly change my mind. I'm not sure that would go down very well. She'd think the gift was a demand for more sex. Or even worse, a payment for the sex we've already had. She wouldn't understand that these were gifts I've been collecting to give her. Gifts from the heart. Gifts just because. Gifts to help fill the void that her dad left. Though I knew they wouldn't really come close to fixing that pain.

I grab my phone and make a call, my heart telling me to move forward, even though my brain isn't quite sure if I’m making the right decision. Which is a foreign feeling to me. My brain rules every decision I make 99.9 percent of the time.

"Thank you for calling the Sherlock Private Detective Agency. This is Mona speaking. How may I help you?" An older-sounding lady answers the phone, and I debate hanging up. "Hello, is anyone there?"

"Umm, yes, I was just calling because…umm..." I frown. I really don't know if I should be opening this can of worms or not. I look down at my screen, and another unknown number is calling me. I send it to voicemail.

"Sir, if you're a cheating husband who's recently been caught, please don't put the blame on us. You should have thought about that before you stuck your peen in someone other than your wife," she chastises me, and I can't help but laugh.

"Wait, what? No, no, that's not why I'm calling."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir. Do you think your wife is cheating on you? Statistically, one in every three couples goes through a cheating incident, though I suppose that doesn't stop how devastating it feels."

"One in every three couples has a cheater in it?" I'm surprised. "Wow, I had no clue."

"I mean, don't quote me or anything," she says quickly. "I don't know what an actual statistician would say, but I personally think those numbers sound accurate. So, what’s your wife’s name, then? And who do you think she's cheating with? We do have a $2500 retainer, so I'll need your email address to send an invoice over."

"No, umm, I don't think?—"

"You can come into the office, as well. Gary is out right now, but he should be back in a few hours. He's trying to locate some lost food."

"Lost food?" I rub my forehead in confusion. I feel like I've called the wrong number here. The lady is making no sense.

"Yeah, a very important man who lives in...well, I shouldn't tell you that part. Let's just say that a very influential man is concerned that the food deliveries he's ordering keep going missing." She lowers her voice. "They are stealing his food, but we don't know why or who."

"I can likely tell you the why." I hold in a laugh. "Someone is hungry and eating it."

"Well, perhaps." Her tone changes and is suddenly less friendly. "What should I tell Gary your case is about?"

"I'm trying to locate someone." I lower my voice. "He hasn't been seen in over a decade, and I've already tried googling him and all the usual searches. It's like he’s disappeared. I haven't been able to find anything on him at all, so I think I'm in need of professional help."

"Well, you've come to the right place. Gary is very professional. He nearly went to Quantico."

"Oh, he did?" I'm impressed.

"Yes! He very much wanted to join the FBI, but the City of Port Charlotte needed him more."

"Sorry, where?"

"Oh, it's a happening town in Florida. You should check it out sometime. Gary and I loved it. In fact, he was beloved there. People relied on him as the face of law and order."

"He was the sheriff?"

"Well, no."

"A cop?"

"Well, he did volunteer until that one incident." She clears her throat. "But Port Charlotte's loss is your gain. Who is the man you're trying to locate? An old business partner? Lover? Dictator of a small Island nation?"

"I'm trying to locate my friend's dad." I wonder if this is a mistake. If Gary is anything like the lady on the phone, this is going nowhere fast. "He left her mom when she was seven, and I want to find out what happened to him. Why did he abandon his wife and daughter? They've had a tough life, and I want to find out why."

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