Page 26 of The Huckleberry Bookshop

He hated it.

And he certainly wasn’t going to talk about it with Athena.

“You were supposed to be at a conference before the shoot?” she asked.

He nodded once. “Quick photo op.”

“For what?”

“Just handing over a check. A post-Christmas, year-end gift.” He smiled as if the donation was all about getting a bit of tax relief from Uncle Sam. “Hey, so I’m wondering if we can reschedule the photographers and ask them to come here. Save you some time and hassle.”

“That wasn’t a photo op I walked in on at the conference center.”

“I got to talking,” he said, not willing to get into how he knew those kind, hurting people. He gave what he hoped was his usual cavalier grin. “You know how it is, being famous.”

“No, I don’t, actually.”

“Well, you soon will! We’re going to take this cookbook to the moon for you.” He edged toward the door. “And since I know you’re busy, and I let you down, I’ll get it all sorted out, okay?”

“Chad?”

He paused, hovering on the threshold. So close to safety. “Hmm?”

“Are you a dad?”

Athena parked her car—which had somehow magically filled itself with boxes of books from her office—and hustled to the building that held the Dragons’ head offices. Her mind was a swirling mess, as it had been for the past several days—ever since she’d found Chad being cried on at the conference for parents of special-needs children.

Who on earth was Chadwick Mullens? Who was he really?

He’d laughed at her when she’d asked if he was a father. Laughed.

She’d been softening toward him, believing that if he was the dad of such a child, it could explain that sensitive side he studiously hid from the world. And maybe even explain that hint of lost little boy she sometimes saw flickering in his light brown eyes.

But she’d been duped. He wasn’t a dad, and he’d left her office clearly amused.

The man was hiding something. But if not a child, then what?

She wanted to box him up, write him off and move on. But the intriguing, infuriating unknowns that kept popping up were driving her crazy. What if he was a nice guy and she was dismissing him for all the wrong reasons?

Then again, what man hid who he really was from the world or those who knew him?

And why would she even want to spend time around someone who didn’t show her respect in the workplace?

Because he was hot, mysterious, and had stood up for her with Nuvella and Howell?

Yeah, that was a lame set of reasons.

She grumbled to herself and hoped her meeting with Nuvella and Daisy-Mae Ray would go well. If the two women weren’t on the same page as she was about promoting her new cookbook, it was going to turn into a big mess. It had all been so much easier before Chad had gotten involved. Just her and a few NHL mucky-mucks.

As she neared the building, she lifted her oversized sunglasses. A familiar, wide-shouldered man was at the base of the concrete steps.

Chad Mullens.

How was he everywhere—except at important photo shoots? Which still hadn’t been rescheduled because of his apparently fully booked calendar.

Athena drew closer, rolling her eyes. Was he signing something for the man in the wheelchair? As if Chad needed his ego padded any further.

No. There was no autographing happening. They were gesturing to the left, where a crew was resurfacing the wheelchair ramp, and Athena tensed. Inaccessible buildings were a hot button now that her mother often relied on a wheelchair when a lot of walking was involved in her outings.

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