Page 57 of Damaged Billionaire Daddy
I put my grandmother’s letter to one side and open the plain envelope she had placed beneath it. There was no one here. I wouldn’t have to pretend to be strong or righteous. I could read his card and remember. Maybe for a minute or two, I could even pretend that we’d had something real.
Inside the plain envelope was a creamy white one. Inside it was a big frilly card, like a valentine’s day gift. The card simply said, “I love you.” But nested inside the card was a letter.
I opened it and read,
“Dearest Kandis, I am so very sorry. I am afraid I’ve not been a very good person for several years, and I should never have pressured your grandparents to sell.
I’ve completely withdrawn my interest in the vineyard, and I promisenot to try to get it again. I’ve even paid my partner his commission on the sale so he won’t be out any money.
I love you so very much.
Please, please accept my apology for being a total jerk. I promise to be good, if you will only let me back into your life.
I miss you. I need you. I don’t know how to go on without you.
Your loving (there were several words crossed out) jackass,
Richard.”
I gulped. Now, what was I supposed to do? I didn’t know how to reach him. He didn’t leave an address or phone number. I guessed because he meant to hand deliver the card and didn’t think it would be necessary.
I slowly sat down on the floor and leaned my head against the bed. It was a nice bed. The hostel was clean and comfortable, not a roach motel.
It would be nicer if Richie....
I jerked that thought up short. I’d pretty well burned that bridge. He’d driven away from me, meek as a lamb when Pops had told him to. Was he still back there in California hoping to see me? Would Pops and Mimi give him the time of day if he tried?
I felt completely lost and miserable. Like always, Mimi and Pops would take me in. But Aunt Martha thought I was painted with the same brush as my mother. And Mom... Mom couldn’t take care of herself, let alone me or a baby.
To Richie, I’d been a toy, a plaything. He didn’t know he was going to be a father. Maybe I should keep it that way.
I’d wished that I could be more than that. I wished it now. I wish . . .
Slow tears rolled down my cheeks and soaked the pretty quilt that served as a bedspread. I was too tired, too unhappy to even cry properly. I let them just streak down my face, feeling numb and lost.
There was a knock at the door. A woman’s voice called out, “Miss Quinn?”
“Yes?” I answered, opening the door.
“I’m Mrs. Barnes, the house matron tonight. You have a visitor. I put him in the small lobby.”
Who the heck?I thought. Uncle George had gone home. Could it be Justin? He was the last person I wanted to see.
“Who is it?” I asked.
Mrs. Barnes shook her head. “He didn’t give a name. He just said it was important. Shall I send him away?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I’ll see him. I’m not going to be sleeping much tonight anyway.”
“If he upsets you, call security,” she said. “We are very careful with our families. You are important to us.”
“Thank you,” I said. I followed her downstairs to a little room just off the lobby.
A tall man with sun-streaked blond hair and the loose lankiness common to farm workers approached stood up to greet me.
I blinked twice. “Caleb?” I asked, realizing I’d never seen him away from Richard’s car or without his chauffeur hat.
“Yes, it’s me, Caleb,” he said. “Richard sent me to find out what you need.”
