Page 16 of Damaged Mogul
“Don’t be, you didn’t know.”
I nod.
“It’s a long––and not particularly cheery––story, but I’ll give you the Cliffs notes. Until my mom died, I didn’t know who my father was. Since I’m the result of an affair, Fisher Edgington kept me hidden in Europe until seven and a half weeks ago.”
Whoa.
A glint of emotion flashes in her eyes, but she recovers with a forced smile. “End of story.”
Her confession drops like a stone in my gut.
Before I can respond, she pulls those beautiful eyes away from me, returning her focus to the window.
An unreasonable desire to shield this woman from threats—even in the form of her own father—washes over me. I might not know the full story, but Fisher is a callous asshole.
A foreign twinge within me makes me want to take her hand into mine and comfort her. Soothe the pain she was trying to disguise. But I don’t. When I shook her hand earlier, the contact was electrifying, a high voltage zapping to my core. Touching her again would be too dangerous.
Silence falls between us for several miles. Her, admiring Los Angeles. Me, computing what she shared, while admiring her heavenly form.
“How close are you to my father?” Her gaze meets mine. “I’m late to the game. I should’ve found that out before landing at LAX. I ask because my father and I aren’t on speaking terms right now?—”
“Michaela told me.”
“You know all my dirty secrets.”
Man, her terse tone does something to me.
I clear my throat. “I doubt that.”
That seems to appease her.
“Not that I want to badmouth your father, but how could he forget your birthday?”
“His eldest son’s political ascension to the White House is top priority in his life.”
I don’t even know what to say to that.
I get that Fisher is all business, all the time, but this is wrong on so many levels.
“I should’ve asked earlier,” she says, looking me up and down, “but what do you do for a living?”
She didn’t look me up?
This isn’t a question I get asked every day.
“I’m StreamTunes’s CEO. I’m also the producer of Jam Sessions and StreamTunes Awards.”
Those gorgeous big blue eyes are so damn incredible when they go wide.
“I’m a StreamTunes customer.” She points a frantic finger at her chest.
“It’s always a pleasure to meet satisfied customers.”
“Who said I was satisfied?”
Don’t make it sexual.
Don’t make it sexual.
