“I have no desire to,” he said, though he was fiddling with the corner of his notebook. He saw me staring and slammed it closed.
“We will win. Any questions?” The way his eyes glittered made it seem like he did not want any questions. But Walker raised his hand.
“Can I have the penthouse?”
“No, the penthouse is mine.”
Greg’s assistant knocked on the door.
He waved her away.
She kept knocking then opened the door.
“We’re done in twenty, Marnie,” Greg stated.
“Twenty more minutes of this?” I asked. “I didn’t come all the way over here to listen to you all complain about who gets what apartment.”
“Fine, then you can have the smallest one,” Liam said.
“Greg,” Marnie said, voice urgent. “Your family is here. They brought your little—”
“Tell them to wait,” he said. “We’re in a meeting. I can’t deal with the kids right now. Hunter needs to keep them under better control; those boys are feral.”
But it was too late. The patter of little feet racing down the corridors and the exclamations of surprise from Greg’s employees rushed like a wave through the office to the conference room.
High-pitched voices shouted in the hallway.
“It’s so beautiful!”
“It’s like a movie!”
“Can we go shopping?”
I froze.
Greg and I looked at each other in shock and disbelief as eight blond, gray-eyed little girls streamed into the conference room, inspecting the high-end furniture, crowding around the window to admire the view, and snapping selfies.
Liam’s mouth hung open. Walker slowly knelt on the floor, and several little girls crowded around him, offering him cookies and telling him all about how they had decorated them.
“What the hell, Crawford?” Greg said when our half brother, with his military short hair and a ragged scar over his eye, followed the crowd of giggling girls into the conference room. He had his hand on the shoulder of another girl. She looked like the oldest and was maybe about twelve. Unlike the others, she seemed wary.
Our half brother Remy followed him in.
“Special delivery,” Remy bellowed, practically bouncing up and down, he was so happy. Even Crawford, who normally had a sour attitude, was grinning.
“Where?” I said, unable to form the words.
“They just appeared in Harrogate in the middle of the night, hiking down the street,” he said.
One little toddler crawled up my leg, into my lap. I hugged her close to me, admiring her adorable little cheeks and big gray eyes.
“They can’t stay in Harrogate, though,” Remy explained with a grimace. “There were some… issues. Isn’t that right, Enola?”
The girl next to Crawford scowled. In that moment, she looked just like Greg.
“Those boys are filthy and uncivilized. They eat off the floor and don’t shower.”
“Sounds about right,” Greg said.
