The Freeman Brothers: A Secret Baby Romance Collection

by Natasha L. Black

  I needed to have a few words with my mother. Not even bothering to turn my computer on, I left my office to find Mom. My first stop was her office, and I half expected to find Merry already there. But I didn’t. In fact, I didn’t find either of them. Her office was dark, the door closed. Next, I tried the breakroom, but it, too, was empty. Mysteriously, she was missing from every place I searched for her, and I wondered if she had already gotten wind I was on my way and planned on ducking me for the day.

  4

  Merry

  I had to commend myself for my mature and professional behavior. I managed to get all the way through that infuriating and condescending conversation with Quentin Freeman without so much as pointing out the various ways he was proving himself to be an arrogant, insufferable jackass, or telling him exactly what bridge he could jump off. It seemed like a victory to me. As it was, I walked away from the office with my hands clenched into fists so tightly my fingernails cut into my palms and made me wish I hadn’t bothered to go into the salon the week before the interview to top off my professional look with a set of acrylics. It wasn’t like I needed them for the position, anyway.

  I made it all the way out of the building and into the fresh air of the morning before letting out an exasperated sound that was just a little bit too close to a growl. My grandmother went to a lot of effort when I was young to teach me how to be a lady. While the idea of growling at people in public wasn’t specifically mentioned, I was fairly certain it was an unspoken no-no. Especially in a work setting. And especially at my boss.

  My boss. Just thinking those words filled me with aggravation all over again. Of everybody who could have been the successful and wealthy CEO of the company I was now working for, it had to be the infuriating and gorgeous man who struck me silent the instant I saw him. If the social media of this place was halfway fucking decent maybe I’d have gotten a better grasp of who everybody was around here and not to be so shocked when he came into the office.

  That would have made my position obsolete and I wouldn’t be in this situation, but that was beside the point. At least I wouldn’t have come up with a vision in my mind of what the head of a racing company looked like, then gotten knocked for a loop when he walked into the office. Quentin was hot. Stupidly hot. He was tall, dark, and brooding, and even with clothes on it looked like he was crafted out of marble. But he was also disconnected, stuffy, and full of himself.

  Granted, he was also an eligible millionaire many a woman had drooled over but not landed. When I heard there was an opening at Freeman Racing for the exact type of position I was champing at the bit to get, I asked around about the company and did a little research. All the pictures I could find related to the company had groups of people in them. There were never any specific images of one person or another, making it almost impossible for me to get familiar with the Freeman family or who was who without doing some deep-dive searching I simply didn’t have time to do. That meant when I stumbled on the stories and blogs about women trying to land Quentin and getting quickly rebuffed, I didn’t have an image of who they were talking about.

  Now I most certainly did. Not only did I know how sexy he was, but also how cold and unpleasant he could be. That was not a combination I was interested in having anything to do with. Who wanted a man who didn’t give a person a chance to prove themselves before he went all caveman on them? Definitely not me. I didn’t want to believe the rumors that most of the women flinging themselves at his feet were only doing it to sink their claws into his millions and set themselves up for trophy wife glory throughout at least the next few years, then settle into alimony and the reality show circuit. But now that I’d had a chance to talk to Quentin, I could absolutely see why that would be the only reason any woman would put that much effort into trying to land him.

  As long as he didn’t talk, he could be nice to be in a room with.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head, filling my lungs with a deep breath to try to calm myself down. I had to do my best not to let him get to me on my first day. This was not how I wanted to spend the first four hours of my time working at what amounted to my dream job. Before that run-in, I was so excited, and I was determined to keep feeling excited. I wasn’t going to let him take that away from me. Constant contact with him wasn’t necessary for me to do my job. I was more than capable of whipping their social media into shape and helping them storm into visibility with only the bare minimum of interactions with Quentin. And that’s exactly what I intended to do.

  Minnie was waiting for me across the complex in the coffee room of a smaller building. She was leaned against the counter, staring out a window as she stirred something in a mug that smelled like strong peppermint tea.

  “Hi,” I said as I walked in and headed directly for the coffee maker.

  “Well, by the look on your face I can only guess you already met Quentin,” she said.

  I slammed the top of the single-cup maker down onto the pod a bit too hard and shoved a mug into place as I nodded.

  “Yes, I did.” I glanced over at her and sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be acting like this.”

  “Don’t apologize. From personal experience, you probably should be acting like this. There’s a reason that man doesn’t have a personal assistant. Or a secretary. He is my firstborn, and I love him with all my heart, but he has a stubborn streak in him, and I don’t know if he ever learned how to play nicely with others. At least not consistently. He can be a good guy. Really. So, what did he do?” she asked.

  I took a long sip of coffee and shook my head, plastering on a smile.

  “You know what? Nothing. I’m just overreacting,” I said.

  “Somehow I doubt that. You don’t have to pretend,” Minnie said.

  “No. Seriously. I just got myself worked up because I wanted to impress him so much, and I let it get to me. Now, you said you wanted me to meet some people,” I said.

  “Absolutely. Let’s go.”

  She spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon showing me around the complex and introducing me to the team working there. I knew the complex was expansive and far more complicated than just the family, but I was surprised by just how many people there were working behind the scenes. It was perfect for putting together galleries of pictures and posting content about the team and what went on at the complex when there wasn’t a race happening.

  Of course, as soon as I thought about that, my thoughts went right back to being in the office with Quentin that morning and getting chided for suggesting taking pictures. It was as if he was expecting me to throw open the personnel files and scan them into Twitter. Just thinking about it got me worked up again, and I had to talk myself down. Focusing on taking pictures of the building and the staff at work helped to bring my focus back to what I was doing. After lunch, Minnie had work she needed to do, so she set me loose on the complex by myself.

  As much as I liked her and enjoying spending time with her, it was nice just being left with my own mind and being able to go where I wanted to go and get a feel of the place on my own. Hopefully I would be working there for a good while, and I wanted to be able to get myself around comfortably. It also let me snap pictures and take notes without feeling like I needed to explain each one to Minnie. I was sipping a cool drink to ward off the intensity of the heat when I looped back around to the test track deep in the complex. Minnie had already given me a quick glimpse of the track and of the bikes lined up, gleaming at the front of the building, but I wanted to do a bit more exploring.

  I stepped into the shade for a brief moment just to get relief from the blazing sunlight and realized there was someone at the track. At first, I felt embarrassed to be there, like I’d gotten caught and needed to scurry away. Then I remembered the personalized credentials now around my neck and Minnie’s invitation to explore to my heart’s content. I hadn’t snuck onto the grounds and wasn’t doing anything clandestine. Quentin’s words must have gotten to me more than I thought, and that aggravated
me.

  The man at the track wasn’t there when Minnie and I were there earlier, but the longer I looked at him, the more familiar he seemed. I knew I’d seen his face before. As I walked up to the track, he glanced up from the bike he was working on and smiled.

  “Hi,” he said. “Can I help you?”

  His smile was genuine and bright, his offer of help sincere and not a way of asking what the hell I was doing there.

  “No,” I said, smiling and shaking my head. “I’m just looking around. I’m Merry.”

  “Oh, the new social media consultant,” he said.

  I looked at him strangely, and he laughed.

  “My mom told me she’d hired you and that today was your first day. I think you came by to meet me earlier, but I had to go to the parts shop.” He wiped his hands on the cloth hanging from his belt. “I’m Darren Freeman.”

  Recognition hit me, and I nodded, reaching out to shake his hand.

  “Right. The youngest of the brothers,” I said. “And the racer of the family.”

  “That’s right,” he said. “Are you settling in all right? I know it’s just your first day, but are you feeling okay about everything?”

  It took me aback. This man was sweet and quiet. Absolutely nothing like his oldest brother. I also couldn’t help but realize I didn’t feel at all drawn to him. That was frustrating as hell to realize. I wanted to think there was just something about being on the complex surrounded by the wealth and adrenaline that was getting me going in Quentin’s office. It wasn’t him. Not the arrogant, pigheaded caveman.

  And yet here I was, facing a younger, perhaps slightly softer version of him, and I felt nothing. He was a sweet guy who I could have fun talking to, but that was it. I sighed. That was just as well. I was already feeling a twinge of guilt for the thoughts that went through my head when I saw Quentin. There was no need to add another layer of unprofessionalism to it.

  “I’m doing fine so far,” I told Darren. “But you could help me with something. I’ll admit, I don’t know the first thing about racing. That’s kind of embarrassing to tell you considering I’m working here now. I’ve done some research and watched a lot of videos, but I don’t think that really gives me a full vision of what it’s like and what it means to your family. Do you think you could tell me about it? Give me an overview of what racing means to you and what the season’s like? Tell me what goes on at the complex throughout the year and what races are like? It’ll help me to have a fuller idea of the company and what it does so I can create the most effective campaign.”

  He nodded like he wasn’t quite sure of the ramble of words that just came out at him, but he happily started talking. I stayed there with him for the rest of the afternoon, learning about the company and about racing in general, and the youngest of the Freeman boys proved very helpful. That night when I got to my car, I turned around and glared at the building where I’d met with Quentin. I swore I could, and would, do this, no matter what he thought of me. Or what I thought of him, to be honest. I would just have to compartmentalize. He was hot and frustrating, but that didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. Him thinking I was an idiot, on the other hand, needed to change. But that was no problem. I could absolutely prove him wrong on that.

  5

  Quentin

  I walked slowly around the bike, taking in all the details and surveying the changes Darren had made. He’d been working on the new race bike for several weeks, and it was exciting to finally be able to see the finished product. It wasn’t an uncommon mistake for people who weren’t familiar with the racing industry to assume I was the one who did the actual racing. After all, I owned the company and was the one in control of the team. But that wasn’t my role in the empire I’d built. I was the one responsible for the business element, for managing strategy and powering Darren to victory. He was a skilled and successful racer already, and his eyes were always focused firmly ahead. There were many more accomplishments on the horizon, and he wanted to be the best of the best. Just being good enough or even raking in wins throughout the season wasn’t enough for him. If he wasn’t winning every race or wasn’t winning by enough of a margin, he didn’t feel like he did well enough.

  Not that he was a bad loser or was too arrogant to believe someone could be better than him. Quite the opposite, actually. Darren was humble and determined. The quietest and most in his head of the four of us. It wasn’t that he thought he had to be the absolute best because no one could be better than him. It wasn’t the competition that got to him, the other racers or the other teams. Instead, he was always in competition with himself and wanting to push harder to new levels of success and achievement. He wanted to do better simply because he believed he could do better. He would be the first to tell you he got a rush out of a good race and enjoyed when his competitors did well. He wouldn’t want to be a winner because all the other racers failed miserably. There was no fun, no sense of pride or honor in being at the top when everyone else was in a heap beneath him.

  Darren was determined if he was going to be the best, it was going to be because he earned it. I had absolutely no doubt he would earn it. And once he did, he would have his chance to get a bit of a big head and enjoy the prestige. But for now, it was all about figuring out ways he could do better, starting with crafting the fastest and most efficient bike possible for the upcoming races. We were going over the new specs on his bike and discussing possibilities for other modifications when out of the corner of my eye I saw someone stalking toward the test track.

  At first, I thought it might be Glenda, the receptionist. As many times as I tried to tell her it wasn’t my fault, she still got frustrated at me when women called the desk. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an odd occurrence for one or more women to call the complex incessantly, insisting on talking with me. Several just assumed they would be able to charm their way past the receptionist, not realizing she’d been working with my family for years and could give seriously zero fucks who we were or how powerful people thought we were because of what I’d built.

  The truth was Glenda saw past everything and knew every one of the members of the family exceptionally well. She’d worked for my father’s business before Darren was even born, which meant the four of us boys were still just kids to her. She wasn’t impressed by us and wasn’t going to be convinced she should be. And she most certainly wasn’t impressed by the women who liked to throw around their names or try to convince her they had some sort of intimate knowledge of me. I couldn’t count how many times she’d told me of the women who called, trying to get through with a story about having met me at one event or another, and that I had given her my phone number with the insistence they call me.

  Of course, they would have no way of knowing I would never give the information for the front desk of the office building if I wanted to talk to somebody directly. Instead, they would get my personal cell number, or at the very least the number to the phone in my office. She was quick to shut them down and never filtered any of them through to me, for which I was grateful. But that didn’t stop her from scolding me about them wasting her time and tangling up her phone lines. But that day it wasn’t Glenda. Instead, Mom was stomping toward me and she looked pissed.

  Darren snickered and walked away, leaving me to be cornered by our mother. Whatever was wrong, I was alone to deal with her wrath. She wasn’t even all the way to me when one finger jutted out from her hand directed right at my face and the other hand planted firmly on her hip. I knew that posture. That was the angry mother ready to scold posture. I’d seen it when my brothers and I tracked mud through the house when we were little. I’d seen it again when we were teenagers and stayed out past our curfew doing the stupid things teenage boys did when they stayed out past their curfew. And I was seeing it now.

  Only this time, I didn’t know what had gotten her riled up, so I didn’t have the opportunity to prepare my defense.

  “My boy, we’re going to have a talk about how you treat new employees,” she
announced when she got to me.

  Her arms crossing over her chest made me shrink back slightly. It felt ridiculous for a grown-ass man to react like that, this was my mama and I loved her, but she could be tough as nails. And now I knew exactly what she was talking about.

  “I didn’t mean to upset her,” I said.

  There was really no point in trying to play dumb or waiting for Mom to tell me what she was angry about. The only new employee we’d had recently was Merry, and there was no questioning if I’d made her upset the day before when she surprised me in my office.

  “But you didn’t mean to welcome her or make her feel like she’s a part of the team, either, did you?” Mom asked.

  “She’s not really part of the team,” I pointed out. “She’s only worked here for what, thirty-six hours? I don’t think that really constitutes her being considered one of us.”

  “I don’t care how long she’s worked here. She’s an employee, and as the owner of the company, and just a human being I raised to be a decent person, you should have treated her with more respect. I raised my sons to be good men, and that means being polite and respectful, even if you don’t particularly like the person. Which, by the way, I wouldn’t understand because I think she’s delightful.”

  I stood there taking the tongue-lashing, knowing it bothered Mom when one of her sons didn’t live up to her vision for what a good man was supposed to be. Not that I always agreed with it, and definitely didn’t always live up to it. I wasn’t the kind to gush and fawn over a woman just because she was there. Especially when it came to my business. I didn’t think I was in any way rude or intolerable toward Merry. I didn’t gather up in a hug and invite her to Thanksgiving dinner, but I also didn’t yell at her and tell her I didn’t want her strolling into my office whenever she wanted to.