But it’s impossible not to see why the rest of the board is concerned. We’re a relatively new company, and it’s still tied primarily to its founder. Investors fear instability. The three of us work hard, but in the board’s eyes, we haven’t proven ourselves yet. Dad’s created a legacy, but there’s no obvious succession. We’re all young, and I’m sure at least one of us will marry and have children over the next five years or so… but that’s not good enough when there’s an offer like this one on the table. Possible inheritance doesn’t hold up well against a certain fortune.
“Jesus.” Caesar rests his elbows on the table and covers his face with his hands. Then he drops his head and sinks his hands into his hair.
I look at Aurelia. Her cheeks are still pink. “I feel about two inches tall,” she mumbles.
My lips twist. “Yeah.”
Caesar gives a short laugh. I frown at him. “What’s so funny?”
He sits back in his chair. His hair’s sticking up the front where he’s run his hands through it.
“The other day,” he says, “at the ball… Wren Carter asked me to father her child.”
I inhale and stare at him.
Aurelia laughs. “What? You’re joking?”
He shakes his head, lips twisting. “Nope. She’s fed up with dating, and she doesn’t want another relationship. But she wantsa baby. So she asked me to donate for her.” He blows out a breath. “It would be one way to get an heir, I guess.”
I don’t move, although I’m breathing fast. I hadn’t had the chance to ask Caesar why Wren wanted to see him, but whatever I thought the reason was, I hadn’t considered this.
A brief flare of relief that she doesn’t want a relationship with him is followed by a searing burn of jealousy. She asked Caesar, not me.For fuck’s sake.
“I understand why a woman might want an arrangement like that,” Aurelia says. “The dating pool can be vicious, like swimming with sharks.” She gives him a curious look. “Did you say yes?”
“I said I’d think about it and give her an answer after Christmas.”
My eyebrows rise. “You’re making her wait?”
“It’s not an easy decision. There are factors to take into account.”
“Like…”
“I met someone,” he says. “On the night of the ball.”
I think about the way his buttons were done up wrong. “Yeah, I remember. But what’s that got to do with Wren?”
“I liked her.”
“Wren?”
“No,” he says impatiently. “The mystery girl.”
Aurelia’s jaw drops. “That’s why you missed the photo shoot with the mayor? Because you were getting laid?”
He gives a sheepish look. “Kinda. In my defense, she was hot.”
“So who was she?” she asks.
“No idea. That’s the problem. She wore a mask the whole time. And a wig. I have no idea who she was.”
“So she might have been a ninety-year-old cleaner?”
“She didn’t have the body of a ninety-year-old cleaner.”
“How do you know what the body of a ninety-year-old cleaner looks like?”
“Good point.”
