As the most well known of the four kingpins at Phantom Enterprises, Cole rarely went anywhere without being recognized. Generally, he flaunted his fame and fortune, an attempt to compensate for all those times his classmates had ridiculed him about his deformed left arm, which ended before it reached his elbow. Truth be told, his preference for the neon-green robot-like hand was in part to prove he was no longer ashamed of his defect. His efforts had made him as famous for his “fake” arm as for his wealth and success. And his recent appearance on the Millionaire Matchup finale, as the bachelor in the coming season preview, had gained him even more notoriety. Cole seldom met someone who hadn’t heard of him, so he couldn’t help being intrigued with this woman.
“You have to let me give you something for ruining your clothes.” He drew the napkin from his pocket and dabbed futilely at her sodden sweater sleeve as a male employee arrived with a bucket and mop.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Miller. We’ll get this cleaned up right away.”
“Mr. Miller, huh?” Brows drawn downward, her eyes darted from Cole to the employee and back. “You must come here a lot. Funny I’ve never seen you before.”
“My first time to come in the morning,” he said truthfully, as he stepped to the side, motioning for her to follow. “We should move out of the way.”
“Mr. Miller!” A fiftyish man arrived and shoved a replacement coffee into his hand. “Here you go, Mr. Miller. Sorry about that cup. We should have had stronger ones. I brought you a souvenir mug, so you don’t have to worry about that happening again. I’m Jack Winston, the manager.”
Cole’s victim cocked her head as she peeled off the sweater. “Who are you?”
“Don’t you recognize him?” the twenty-something worker hissed, pointing with his mop handle. “He’s Cole Miller! You know… Phantom Enterprises! The guy with the…” He made an awkward face, as people often did when the subject of Cole’s prosthesis arose.
“Oh, no,” she groaned, her cheeks glowing as pink as her shirt. “Can I just melt into the mop bucket? I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.”
“Not a big deal,” said Cole. “Actually, it’s kind of nice.”
“Par for the course, after the morning I had. I get the chance to meet somebody famous, and I look like this.” She gestured to her coffee-spotted shirt. At least her pants were dark, matching the coffee.
“Actually, your sweater took the brunt of it. Your shirt only has a few little coffee splashes on it.”
“I’m not talking about the coffee.” She gave him an exasperated eye-roll. “I’m talking about this stupid pink polo shirt. I promise, I don’t usually wear hot pink.”
“You don’t?” Cole suppressed a grin.
“I don’t usually wear any shade of pink. I hate pink. But this was the only clean work shirt I had. That’s why I was wearing this ratty sweater on top when it’s going to be in the high eighties today.” She moved to the condiment counter and grabbed a handful of napkins while she continued in a nervous chatter. “I’ll just blot it a little, but I don’t care if it’s ruined forever. Actually, it looks better with brown spots on it. Tones down the pink.”
As she dabbed the napkin or her shirt, Cole spied the logo on her pocket, the distinctive double-H he’d come to know so well in the last few months.
Hayward Home!
His breath left him. Stunned, he stood like a statue while his mind raced.
She had to be an employee at Hayward. The answer to his prayers. Surely, she had access to the information he needed. At the very least, she knew someone with access. After months of dead-end trails and closed doors, she was the “in” he’d been looking for. Maybe he could buy her a coffee and casually get to know her. He painted on his most ingratiating smile and turned to speak to her. But she was gone.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miller.”
The voice came from behind him. He whipped around to see her, head tucked down, as she slipped out the door.
He couldn’t let her escape. Not when he was so close to finding the answers.
“Wait!”
Heart racing, he handed his coffee back to the confused manager and hurried after her. When he got outside, she was running across the parking lot, the soiled sweater hanging from her arm.
“Hey! Stop! I don’t even know your name!”
She reached her car—a small, dated sedan—and jumped inside. Cole ran toward the parking lot entrance, intending to block her way, but she pulled out of her parking place and exited behind the building, her tires spinning as she drove through a patch of gravel.
What just happened?
Keep reading The Billionaire’s Temporary Marriage!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I can’t thank my Remarkable Romance Readers enough. They lived through this story as it developed, encouraged me to keep writing, and gave suggestions that literally changed Finn’s and Laurie’s lives. Thank you, Wanda Liendro, Jessica Dismukes, Sue Stinnet, Tabitha Kocsis, Rennae McIntosh, Jennifer Chastain, Stephanie Burdine, Barb Gill, Eleni Datsika, Nadine Peterse-Vrijhof, Misty Geaglone Goan, Trudy Dapprich, Clare Rauch Drexel, Lisa Stillman, Loriann Peterson Merritt, Patti Ferrin, Dana McCall Michael, Marie Hepworth Cline, Heather Stephens McInnis, Sharon Ayers, and Jolyn Safron. And undying thanks to my beta readers and ARC Team, as well.
Thanks to my awesome cover designer, Della Newton, and my fabulous editor, Laurie Penner.
As always, I can’t thank my sweet husband enough, for giving me the time to write and edit and for taking care of me while I did it. (Dear Bruce… Submarine!)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today bestselling author Tamie Dearen lives in Texas with her incredibly romantic husband and two dogs. She hates dusting and exercising and loves anything musical or artistic. When she's not writing books, you might find her playing with her grandkids or drilling on someone's tooth.
Contact Tamie on her website at TamieDearen.com.
BOOKS BY TAMIE DEAREN
Sweet Romance
Underground Granny Matchmakers Series:
