The Illegitimate Billionaire (Whiskey Bay Brides Book 4; Billionaire & Babies)

by Barbara Dunlop

  “The Mayor wants to talk to you.”

  “Sure.” She washed her hands and dried them on a towel.

  Hank had moved partway down the counter while Hannah worked on the cappuccino, so Callie followed him there.

  “I won’t ask you to sit down,” Hank said.

  She was relieved. “We are pretty busy today.”

  She would rather keep Hank at arm’s length.

  She might agree with Frederick on the wisdom of having a cordial relationship with the city’s politicians. But getting too close was inviting trouble. And Hank had been unusually friendly the past few weeks.

  She’d already joined a committee and been a party to a donation. She didn’t want to be drawn any further into any political web.

  “I can see that,” Hank said. “I just wanted to make sure there was no misunderstanding.”

  She could only assume he was talking about the building permit for the deck. As far as she knew, everything was in order.

  “My gesture at dinner last night, it was meant to be friendly and welcoming, nothing more. I fear Deacon Holt misconstrued my motives. I don’t want you to think badly of me.”

  The unexpected turn of the conversation surprised her. “I don’t think badly of you.”

  Even if Deacon was right, and Hank had been showing off that he was rich, she wasn’t going to worry about it. It seemed unlikely Hank had known the price of the wine. In fact, it would be odd if he had. In which case, Hank’s version was the more plausible. He was trying to be welcoming to a potential city investor.

  “I’m very glad to hear that,” Hank said. “Will you be at the meeting Thursday?”

  Callie wished she could skip it. But she’d promised herself she was joining the City Beautification Committee for more than just her permit. It was how she’d soothed her conscience. She wasn’t about to stop attending now that she had her permit in hand.

  “I’ll be there,” she said.

  “Good. That’s good. You should know there’s talk of putting a rose garden and a water feature at Fifth and Bay Street.”

  It took Callie a moment to picture it in her mind. “Do you mean blocking off the through traffic?”

  “Traffic would reroute on Balsam Crescent.”

  “But...” A feeling of dread slid through her. “Whose idea was that?”

  Blocking off Bay Street would significantly impact traffic flow to Downright Sweet. They’d stand to lose a huge percentage of their tourist business.

  “I’m looking into it,” Hank said, concern clear in his expression. “Can I get back to you?”

  “Yes, please do.”

  Hannah broke into the conversation. “Your order is ready, Hank.”

  Hank put his public smile back on as he turned to Hannah. “Thank you so much, Hannah. You’re a treasure.”

  Hannah looked pleased by the compliment.

  Callie was still absorbing the news. She counted on impulse purchases from the passing tourist traffic. Her local customers were a stalwart base to her business, but Downright Sweet couldn’t survive without the money they made from tourists in the summer months to offset losses over the winter.

  Frederick hadn’t had life insurance. His health condition had made premiums far too expensive. And they’d spent all they had buying the house and the bakery.

  He’d once told her he’d donated significantly to charities before they’d met. He’d said he regretted that decision. At the time, he’d never expected to have a family to support. She never imagined she’d someday be sorry he’d donated.

  But what was done, was done. Now she needed the bakery to be profitable. She had the boys’ education to worry about, upkeep on the house and day-to-day living expenses.

  “Something’s wrong,” Hannah muttered to her as Hank chose a table.

  “Nothing huge.” She sure didn’t want to worry Hannah.

  “What is it? What did Hank want?”

  “It’s the beautification committee. Some of their ideas are pretty out there.”

  “That’s because they’re all geriatrics with short-term memory loss. Well, except for you and Hank, of course,” Hannah hastily added.

  “I am definitely going to have to keep attending those meetings.”

  Beautification was one thing. But the city’s economy was important, too. If the committee’s decisions started impacting businesses, everyone was going to suffer.

  “Maybe Deacon will come with you.”

  “Maybe.”

  The meetings would definitely be more fun if Deacon came along. And perhaps he’d be willing to lend a voice of sanity. His transportation business wouldn’t need property in the downtown core. But if he was planning to live here, he’d probably care about the overall success of the city. Maybe he’d be willing to side with her.

  “And then, after the meeting...” Hannah let her voice trail off meaningfully.

  Callie rolled her eyes. “You have a one-track mind.”

  “You should have a one-track mind, too. You’re dating a hunky guy, and your level of sexual deprivation has got to be off the charts.”

  “Hannah!”

  “I’m just calling it like it is.”

  “That’s not like it is.” Callie didn’t have a one-track mind. She wasn’t obsessed with sex. Okay, she was a little obsessed with Deacon. And she’d like to have sex with Deacon. And she did think about that an awful lot.

  But she wouldn’t say she had a one-track mind.

  She thought about other things.

  A little bit.

  Sometimes.

  * * *

  Deacon accepted the video conference call from Tyrell, bringing the man’s face up on the tablet screen in the hotel suite. Tyrell was obviously in his office.

  “I need an update,” Tyrell said without preamble.

  “I’m here. I’ve met her. I’m making progress.”

  “What kind of progress?”

  “The getting-to-know-her kind of progress.” Deacon wasn’t about to share anything personal with Tyrell.

  “I heard you went on a date.”

  “What do you mean, you heard?”

  Who would Tyrell have heard from? Did Tyrell have contacts in Charleston?

  “Are you spying on me?” Deacon demanded, rocking back in his desk chair.

  “Of course I’m spying on you. I don’t trust you. And I need to know what’s going on down there.”

  “Then ask your spies.”

  “My spies weren’t on the date. And they’re not inside her house. What’s going on with the Mayor?”

  Deacon told himself not to be surprised by Tyrell’s behavior.

  “I don’t exactly know,” Deacon answered honestly. He’d been giving a lot of thought to the Mayor. “Hank is definitely interested in Callie. I can’t tell for sure if she has any interest in him.”

  Deacon couldn’t definitively say she wasn’t. Hank was quite a bit older than her. But it was possible she was drawn to political power. It was an explanation that had been rolling around in Deacon’s head.

  “Get her interested in you,” Tyrell said.

  “I’m trying.” Deacon found it easy to get annoyed with Tyrell. “I’m succeeding. I think.”

  Callie had seemed to enjoy their date.

  Deacon had been the one to stop at a good-night kiss. It wasn’t like she’d pushed him away. In the moment, he’d thought taking it slow was the best decision. But he was only guessing at that, as well.

  “You’ve met my grandsons.” Tyrell’s words weren’t a question.

  “A couple of times. I don’t know if you’ve seen pictures—”

  “I’ve seen pictures.”

  “Then you know they’re Aaron and Beau 2.0.”

  Tyrell gave a genuine smile.

  Deacon w
asn’t sure he’d seen that before. “What can you tell me about Frederick’s trust fund?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “How much was in it? Ballpark?”

  “Enough. Millions. Why?”

  The answer hit on the heart of Deacon’s confusion. “Because Callie doesn’t act like a woman with money.”

  “Oh, she’s got money all right.”

  Deacon tapped his index finger on the desktop. “Why doesn’t she want me to know she has money?”

  “Did you mess up? Does she think you’re a gold digger?”

  “I didn’t mess anything up. I’ve done everything in my power to prove to her that I have money. I pointed her at Mobi Transportation. I’ve upgraded my wardrobe, my accessories. I’ve got the most expensive hotel suite in town, a high-end car. There’s no way she thinks I need money.”

  “Well, you better figure it out.”

  “I am going to figure it out. Millions, you say?” Deacon’s brain went back over the bakery oven conversation. It didn’t make any sense.

  “She was a waif when Frederick found her,” Tyrell said.

  “That’s what she told me.”

  “It worked for her once.”

  “So you think she’s playing the part of the damsel in distress.”

  “Yes. Go rescue her, Deacon. Time’s a wasting.”

  Tyrell’s theory didn’t feel right to Deacon. But he didn’t have a better one, and something was definitely up with Callie and money.

  “And get that mayor out of the picture,” Tyrell demanded.

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Work harder. My people tell me she’s with him right now.”

  “She’s what?” Deacon glanced at his watch. It was only five fifteen.

  On Mondays, Callie didn’t leave the bakery until six thirty.

  “They just left the bakery together.”

  “I’m on it.” Deacon signed off the call, grabbed his wallet and phone and left the hotel.

  It was a short walk to the bakery, and he was there in minutes, looking up and down the street for signs of Callie.

  It didn’t take him long to find her. She and Hank were at a table on the patio of a nearby café. They sat side by side, heads close together, intense emotion in their expressions.

  Callie was upset about something.

  Hank seemed to be comforting her.

  He took her hand.

  She shook her head.

  He spoke at length, clearly trying to talk her into something.

  Deacon took two steps forward before stopping himself.

  What could he say? What could he do? What was she up to?

  She raised her head, and Deacon quickly stepped back, shielding himself from her view with an oak tree.

  Then she nodded, and Hank squeezed her hands with his. Hank smiled, and Deacon wanted to punch him in the teeth.

  Deacon acknowledged the danger in his reaction. He should be frustrated that he had competition from the Mayor. But he shouldn’t be jealous. It shouldn’t hit him on an emotional level.

  Callie was a means to an end. She was a complicated woman, who obviously had an agenda of her own. He needed to harness that. He needed to use it by pursuing their relationship. But he also needed to stay detached.

  The smart play was to coolly and dispassionately focus her attention on him, instead of Hank. Whatever Hank could do, Deacon would do better. That meant eliminating the differences between them.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Tyrell.

  “Yes?” Tyrell answered in a gruff tone.

  “It’s Deacon.”

  “I know.”

  Deacon could hear male voices in the background. “Can you talk?”

  “Give me a minute.”

  It went silent.

  “What is it?” Tyrell asked.

  “I need a political future.”

  “Explain.”

  “It needs to be something convincing, maybe a shot at the state legislature. I want Callie to believe there’s a powerful political career in my future. Who do you know who can help?”

  “Everyone.”

  “Okay, who do you trust?”

  Tyrell was silent for a minute. “Senator Cathers.”

  “Seriously?” Deacon couldn’t help but be impressed. Senator Cathers was the Senior Senator from Virginia.

  “He’s speaking at a Chamber of Commerce event in Richmond tomorrow. I’ll have him mention your name.”

  It took Deacon a second to respond. Just like that, Tyrell could put words in a Senator’s mouth?

  “Make sure you record it,” Tyrell continued. “Figure out a way to put it in front of her. Yada, yada.”

  “Yeah, I get it. I get it.”

  “Good.”

  Deacon glanced back at Callie and Hank. Every instinct he had told him to march up to the table and drag the two of them apart. But he had to be smart about this. He had to be methodical. He had to make her come willingly to him.

  Five

  Callie left the City Beautification Committee meeting, anger propelling her forward. She made it through the door and halfway across the porch before she heard Hank’s voice.

  “Callie, wait.”

  She ignored him and kept walking.

  “Stop.” His hand clasped around her upper arm.

  “Let go of me.” She tried to shake him off.

  “Just listen for a minute.”

  “Listen?” she demanded, rounding on him. “I have listened. I listened really good back there while you threw me and Downright Sweet under the bus. I didn’t ask you for anything, but you promised to support me.”

  If she’d known what he was going to do, she could have been better prepared.

  “There was nothing I could say to them that would have made a difference,” he said.

  “You didn’t even try. Never mind try, you jumped on the bandwagon with the other side.”

  They hadn’t formally voted on the rose garden tonight, but it was only a matter of time until they did. It would pass, and her business was going to suffer. She was going to lose money. She couldn’t afford to operate at a loss, and Hank knew that.

  “This is only the first round,” he said.

  “No, Hank. This was a knockout punch. There’s nobody on my side. Everyone loves the rose garden proposal. Nice PowerPoint by the way.”

  “You have to look at the long game, Callie.”

  “There’s no long game. There’s no game. There’s only the demise of Downright Sweet.”

  “You’re getting hysterical.”

  “No. I’m getting angry.”

  “Please calm down.” His patronizing tone was offensive.

  “I’m leaving.” She looked pointedly at where he held her arm.

  He let go of her arm but took her hand. “I know what it is you need.”

  Why did he insist on touching her so much? It was really annoying. But his grip was firm enough that she couldn’t easily slip out of it.

  “It’s hardly a secret,” she said.

  “What I mean is I know how to help you.”

  “You didn’t help me.” When she’d needed his help, he’d sat mute in the committee.

  He seemed to gather his thoughts. “This is going to sound bold, but I think there’s a way we can help each other.”

  She wanted to jerk her hands from his. Every instinct she had told her to ignore Frederick’s advice and walk away. Being friendly to the Mayor wasn’t helping her one little bit.

  “You’re an incredibly beautiful woman, Callie.”

  His words took her by surprise. “What’s that got to do with—”

  “Let me rephrase,” he rushed on. “You’re a wonderful woman. And your boys, well, I think th
ey’re terrific.”

  Unnerved, she searched his expression. Was he threatening her boys?

  He eased a little closer, lowering his voice. “You and I, Callie. We should think seriously about teaming up.”

  “What do you mean?” But she was afraid that she knew exactly what he meant.

  “I’m saying that I’m attracted to you.”

  Something shriveled inside her.

  “I’m more than just attracted to you,” he continued.

  She’d always considered him a fairly distinguished man. But she’d never had a single romantic thought about him.

  “You, me, a perfect little family...think of the possibilities.”

  Forget Frederick’s advice. She jerked her hand free of Hank’s.

  “Nobody knows this yet.” He talked faster. “But I’m running for Governor next election.”

  She couldn’t think of a single response.

  Should she have seen this coming?

  He’d been friendly, sure. But he was friendly to everyone. She’d never given him the slightest cause to think she was romantically interested in him.

  His enthusiasm was obvious. “I have dozens of well-placed supporters. Contributions are pouring in. Our future would be—”

  “I can’t,” she blurted out.

  What had she ever done to make him think she’d be swayed by his political aspirations?

  He took a moment. “Is it the age difference?”

  “Yes.” It seemed like the simplest answer. It was the age difference and so much more.

  “There are a few years between us, I know. But it happens all the time.”

  “Hank, please stop. I’m sorry.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing. She only knew she wanted out of this conversation.

  “You’re a practical woman, Callie. It made sense for you to marry Frederick when you needed him, and it makes sense for you to marry me now.”

  There was no comparison between Hank and Frederick—none at all.

  “You and your sons will have everything you could ever want.”

  “This isn’t going to happen, Hank.”

  His gaze narrowed. It seemed like his patience was wearing thin. “You’ve considered it for all of two minutes.”

  “It’s not something I’m—”

  “Is that all I get? A whole two minutes of your time?”