Page 36 of Grumpy Billionaire Seeking Wife (Billionaires Seeking Wives Club #1)

Chapter Twenty

W es

I'm still laughing as I think about the dinner Sabrina made for me a couple of nights ago, ramen noodles. She didn’t even get the ramen noodles right, though I suppose it was my fault for thinking that she was going to make filet mignon and scalloped potatoes, when I knew she didn't have much money.

And I was the fool for thinking that she would want to make dinner for me, knowing that she didn't really want to live with me.

The past couple of days have been pretty uneventful. We haven't done anything, which I find to be quite irritating, but I don't want to cross her boundaries. Each night, I give her a kiss on the cheek, and then I turn over and go to sleep.

It is hard falling asleep, knowing she is in the bed next to me.

Sometimes our legs touch or her hand will cross my chest, but I make sure to keep my distance.

I don't want her to think that I’m only interested in her for her body.

I don't want her to think that this is about sex. I want to get to know her on a deeper level. And even though it has only been a couple of days, I’m already starting to see who she is as a person.

She wakes up every morning about 6:45 a.m. and makes herself a cup of coffee and a slice of toast, then reads the news online. Then she does some stretches and has a shower. It’s interesting to see that she keeps a schedule.

Then she calls her mom. I can tell from the hushed and fervent conversations that something is going on, but I don't want to pry. If she hasn't told me, then it is something she obviously doesn't feel confident sharing with me.

That makes me feel sad. I want to be her confidant. I want to be the person she comes to if she has problems or issues. I could fix them so easily, but I know that is likely why she hadn't come to me. She doesn't want me to fix them. She doesn't want to be dependent on me or anyone else.

I find myself outside of a decrepit building in the Bronx, and I frown. This is the address for the Sherlock Investigation Office, but it looks like it is in the middle of a bunch of dilapidated buildings.

I can see a couple of guys hanging out at the corner, staring at me. I’m not sure if I should go inside the office or not. I don't want to get jumped.

I pull out my phone and call Tyler.

"Hey, man. What's going on?"

"Hey, Tyler. It's me."

"I know. What are you up to?"

"I've come to the Sherlock Detective Agency, the one you recommended?"

"Oh, cool, cool."

"I'm just a little apprehensive about going inside. It doesn't seem like it's in the best area, and?—"

"Dude, it's fine. Trust me. I know it's a little sketch, but they get the job done. I rather pay my money to someone that's doing the job than to someone who just wants to be in a fancy building, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Just trust the process, dude. It's going to be fine."

"Okay. How are you doing, anyway?" I asked him.

"Can't complain. Got MVP in my last couple of games. Think I'm up for a new contract deal. People are saying 2-300."

"Awesome, and how are the women?"

"You know, can't complain about that, either." He starts laughing. "Can't keep a good boy down."

"Yeah, that's right. We should get a drink sometime."

"Sounds good. Give me a call."

"Will do. Thanks, Tyler."

"You're welcome."

I hang up and walk into the building. I look at the sign and see that the agency is on the third floor. I decide against going up in the elevator. It looks like it could break down at any second.

I look for the stairs and run up them. As I exit onto the landing, I see a brown door with a sign and walk in.

There's a lady sitting behind a desk. She looks like she's in her late sixties with short, dark hair, big glasses, and very purple eye shadow.

She's wearing a short-sleeved blouse, and I can see a flurry of tattoos up and down her skin. She has a skinny face, and I wonder if she’s Mona.

“Hey, welcome. Can I help you?”

She looks up at me, and immediately, I can tell from her voice that this is definitely the woman I spoke to on the phone.

"Hi. I'm Wes Carrington. I?—"

"I know who you are." She smirks. "Looked you up on Google after you called. Nice to see you."

"I'm here to see Gary?"

"He's not here yet, but he'll be in the office in about fifteen minutes." She nods. "You want to have a seat?"

I look over at my options and wrinkle my nose. "I'm okay. Thanks."

I stand in the corner and wait.

"So," she says, staring at me.

"So," I say, staring back at her.

"Are you from New York?"

"Seems like you would already know that," I say to her, and she laughs.

"Yeah. You know I was born here, but then I moved to Florida with my husband. I told you about Port Charlotte, right?"

"I believe you may have mentioned it."

"Such a nice city, like paradise on earth."

"Oh? I've never heard of it."

"It's one of those well-kept secrets, you know? The people are cool and nice and friendly. There's a Chili's and an Applebee's on the same street. Walmart is around the corner from Target, three McDonald's, you know? It's cool."

"Sounds amazing."

"Gary got fed up of working there, though. He said the people didn't want to pay the money, and most of the cases were about meth or car crashes. I never heard of so many car crashes before in my life."

I press my lips together. I'm trying to remain positive because Tyler vouched for the guy, but I don't feel like someone whose primary cases were in a meth and car crashes is going to be able to find someone who has evaded Google searches for this long.

"You know, I told Gary that I want to move back, but he says we got to wait. I said, 'Wait for what, Gary? Florida is much better than New York.' But he says?—"

"Is Gary your husband?"

"Oh, hell, no," she says. "Gary's my son.

I left my deadbeat husband a long time ago.

Actually, right after we got to Florida, I found out that he was banging the stripper at Hooters.

Well, she wasn't actually a stripper at Hooters.

She worked at Hooters, but she also worked at the strip club.

And anyways, she was getting money," she pauses, "but maybe you don't want to hear about all that. "

I nod slowly. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. You know, that's men for you."

"I guess that it takes all sorts of men." I nod, wondering if Gary is going to show up soon.

Thankfully, he walks in about five minutes later. He's a short, stocky guy with bald hair, and he also has a lot of tattoos. He looks me up and down and walks over to me.

"Hey. Are you Mr. Carrington?" He's got a deep voice, and I nod. "Thanks for waiting. We can go in this way. Hey, Ma?" he says to Mona.

"Yes, Gary?"

"Hold my calls. I'll be in a meeting."

"Yes, Gary, but what about if Amanda calls?"

"Ma?"

"Yes, Gary?"

"Hold all my calls."

"Fine. I'm just saying if she shows up here yet again, accusing you of cheating..."

I press my lips together. Did I somehow walk into an alternate reality TV show?

"Come on," Gary says.

We close the door behind us and have a seat. I'm pleased to see that Gary's office looks a lot more comfortable.

"Sorry about that. Ma can be a little inappropriate, but she's a good secretary, and she's cheap." He grins. "So, how are you doing today?"

"I'm fine. I just wanted to meet with you and follow up on the case and see if?—"

"Yeah, I've actually already started researching. This dude, he's nowhere to be found. He was very active in a lot of databases up until about twelve years ago, and then he just disappears."

"Well, that's why I contacted you." I nod slowly. "It's very important to me, well, she's very important to me, and it's her father, and I would like for her to get some closure, you know?"

"Even if he's dead?" He stares at me.

I stare back at him, my heart racing. "I don't know. We'll come to that decision once I find out what's going on."

"Makes sense," he says, nodding. "So this girl, she mean a lot to you?"

"Yeah, she does."

"Okay. Well, then, I will do my best to find her father." He leans forward. "I do have to tell you, in cases like this, it's usually not good."

"What do you mean it's usually not good?"

"I mean, they're usually dead or in jail or"—he shrugs—"living in the streets, homeless because they're drug addicts. I don't know. Things happen in life."

"Yeah, I know. But I know this has been something weighing on her mind for a really long time, and I feel like perhaps it could be helpful for her to know what happened. Maybe for her mom, too."

Gary nods. "Well, we'll see what we can do."

"Thank you. I guess I should write the check over to you?"

"Yeah, you can put it in my business name. I'll be in contact in the next couple of weeks with some updates."

"Great, thank you." I stand up. "Well, it was nice to meet you."

"You, too, Mr. Carrington." He grins. "Can't say I meet New York's most eligible bachelor very often."

I groan as I stare at him. "You know about that?"

"Who doesn't know about it?" he says, laughing. "Good for you."