Page 1 of The Billionaire and His Forever

Chapter One

Abbie

Everything was soperfect last night. Graham finally confessed his love to me, Jude was just starting to settle into being back at home in the country, we were a perfect little family with so much potential, and thenbam. The sky fell. The colors contorted. I found myself falling through empty space without any clue how to get back on the ground.

All I could do was sit there frozen in shock as the police pulled Graham out of bed this morning and arrested him for the attempted murder of his ex-wife. What the hell happened? How would that have even been possible? He was with me the night she OD’d. He couldn’t have done it…hewouldn’thave done it.

I feel like I’m losing my mind. This whole situation is completely surreal. A living nightmare.

My summer wasn’t supposed to go like this. It should have been the summer of my life. In the good way, not in the way you’d write a tell-all memoir about. But everything has been fucked. From being sent to the Ratliff estate in the idyllic Hudson Valley on a secret mission to steal Graham’s heart to completely falling for him (and his kid) in the process, from all the sordid tabloid rumors about our alleged affair to being forced to endure relentless abuse at the hands of Graham’s ex-wife when she moved back in to save his reputation. Nothing has gone as planned. And I have no idea how to fix any of it.

I’ve basically been hiding out under the covers since Graham was hauled off by the cops, but it’s getting late and I can’t hide forever. Especially not when Jude’s going to be up any minute, and she’s going to wonder where her dad is. So I slink back to my own room and get dressed, haunted by images of the man of my dreams getting dragged away in handcuffs, begging me to protect Jude.

I’m brushing my teeth when a soft knock comes on my door, shaking me out of my stupor. Glancing at the time on my phone, I curse—it has to be Jude. I do a quick rinse-and-spit and then rush to fling the door open, pasting on my biggest smile, no matter how much it hurts to fake it. Jude stands there in her nightgown, brows drawn together.

“Where’s my dad?” she asks. “He’s not reading his paper in the dining room, and he’s not in his room, and even Esmeralda said she hasn’t seen him but that’s a lie. She always knows where he is. Do you think he went to visit Mommy at the hospital without me?”

My lip feels raw from all the biting I’ve already done on it this morning. How long can I lie about Graham’s absence? Can I at all? I swallow the lump in my throat and opt for something semi-close to the truth, because it’s the best I can do right now…and there’s no way I’m dumping the whole murder accusation thing on this poor eight-year-old. She’s got enough to worry about with her mother in a coma.

“No, of course not. He wouldn’t do that. Your dad…he had a really important meeting.” I try to sound bright and cheery, but Jude immediately pales.

“He said he’d be home with me.”

“It was super last minute and kind of an emergency. You know how his work stuff goes sometimes.”

She sighs, nodding. Graham has proven himself nothing if not a workaholic, so the lie is by no means a stretch for her to buy. I drape my arm across her shoulder and coax her downstairs so we can see about getting some breakfast. My own trauma needs to take a back seat right now.

“When will he be back, though?” Jude asks as we make our way down the hall.

“I don’t know,” I admit. All I know is that Graham has a very expensive, very fancy lawyer. Hopefully that works in his favor. “I’m sure he’ll be home as soon as he can.”

Jude looks up at me, worry etched on her face. “Did something bad happen?”

“It’s just a meeting,” I reassure her. Then I switch tactics, hoping to distract her. “Do you want to go to the kitchen and see if Mary wants some help?”

She shrugs. “Okay, I guess.”

“That’s my girl,” I say cheerily, hating myself every second for lying.

Jude nods dutifully, giving me a brave smile that only makes me feel worse.

We find Mary in the kitchen, looking pensive as she sips a cup of coffee.

“Good morning,” I say.

“Morning!” Mary immediately hops out of her chair and gives Jude a grin. “I didn’t start breakfast since everyone seemed to be sleeping in. What should I make? Sky’s the limit.”

“Anything you want,” I add, giving Jude an encouraging squeeze.

“Waffles?” she says hesitantly. “With strawberries and bananas?”

“Sounds perfect,” Mary responds, whipping open the refrigerator. “What about on the side? Sausage or bacon?”

“Veggie sausage,” Jude says.

“Can we help?” I add. “Jude’s a little…anxious this morning. Might be good for her.”

Mary puts us to work measuring out ingredients for the batter while she goes to the pantry to look for the waffle iron. Esmeralda shows up and joins us too, and soon the room is full of happy voices and the sweet smell of waffles. Jude can’t stop laughing when Mary recounts the story about how she accidentally set a restaurant kitchen ablaze at her first professional chef job and the fire department had to come put it out.

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