Page 45 of Grumpy Billionaire Seeking Wife (Billionaires Seeking Wives Club #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

S abrina

We drive to New Jersey in silence. I have nothing to say to Wes.

I don't even know how to think, how to feel. He got a private detective to find my dad, and while he crossed so many boundaries, a part of me wonders what I am going to find out. Maybe I’ll find out that my mom kicked him out, or maybe I will find out that he sent letters to me and she just didn't give them to me.

Maybe I will find out that he has been waiting for this moment, for me to come and find him and for him to embrace me.

I look over at Wes as he drives and notice him giving me a short, furtive glance.

"You okay?" he asks. We're nearly there. I nod and look out the window. I have nothing to say to him. Absolutely nothing.

I feel like this is a really important moment in my life, but I also feel like I'm stuck.

I feel like I don't understand my emotions, my being, my anything.

Wes is so close to me, and I love him, yet I hate him.

My dad, I'm really going to see him again, yet I hate him, as well.

But there's still that little girl inside of me that loves him, that remembers how much he loved me as a child, and I can't reconcile how he could leave me.

I don't even know how I'm going to tell my mom. I don't know what I'm going to say.

Wes pulls down a side street that is full of modest homes and pulls outside of a small green house.

"That's it," he says, nodding to the house as he turns off the ignition.

I stare at it. It's nothing fancy, but it's still a home.

I wonder if he lives there alone. My breath catches as I see the front door open, and someone steps outside.

For a few moments, I think it's my dad, but then I realize it's a woman.

Middle-aged with blue jeans and dark, curly hair.

She's saying something into a phone, but we're too far away to hear.

"Are you sure this is where he lives?" I say, finally looking at Wes. He nods.

The woman starts shouting into the phone, and for some reason, a feeling of imbalance falls over me.

She looks upset, and then the door opens again, and I see a foot come out.

My breath catches, and then he steps down, and I see it's my dad.

I'd recognize him anywhere, even though his hair is gray and he's got a bit of a belly now.

He looks tired. He looks familiar, yet not.

"That's him," I say to Wes.

He reaches over and squeezes my knee. I want to push his hand away, but I don't. I'm grateful for the comfort in this moment.

My dad and the woman start arguing. He grabs the phone and throws it to the ground. She slaps him, and I just sit there. Should we do something? We can't do anything.

Wes says, "Let's see how this plays out." The woman steps back, and my dad is heaving and shouting.

I watch as he pulls something from his back pocket and takes a swig. It's ten o'clock in the morning, I think to myself, and he’s drinking. I stare at Wes, who is frowning.

"If it gets worse, I'll go out," he says. "Don't worry, okay?"

I nod slowly. I feel cold. I feel like we should leave. I feel like I don't recognize this man. He's not who I remember. This man seems angry and mean.

And then another car pulls up and stops outside the house. I see a girl jumping out. She looks like she's about eighteen and runs to the front. I lean forward, and Wes puts the windows down.

"Mom, is everything okay?" the girl shouts.

"I think that's her mom," I say to Wes as if he hadn't just heard as well. He nods slowly.

"Dad, fucking stop it. Leave her alone."

I freeze. I look over at Wes, my eyes wide. I have a sister , I think to myself. I stare at her. She looks familiar, yet not. She looks as if she's stressed.

"Mom, come with me." She's screaming now and grabbing the older woman, but the older woman is pulling her away. "You need to come with me."

"I'm not coming. He needs to fucking stop drinking. I have told him if he doesn't stop, I'm going to throw all his shit out."

"Mom, please."

"I'm not leaving," the mother screams.

I watched my dad pull out his flask again and drink some more. I lick my lips nervously. My heart is racing. I don't know what to say or what to do. I don't know if I should get out of the car.

The mom is crying now, and my dad is just standing there, doing nothing, glaring. My sister goes up to him, and he pushes her back.

"Fuck you, Dad," she screams. "Fuck you, you alcoholic piece of shit. Mom, please. I can't do this anymore. You have to come with me."

"I'm not leaving him," the mom screams.

I watch as my sister starts crying and rushes to her car. The next thing I know, she's driving away. The lady and my father just stand there and then go back into the house.

Wes and I look at each other. I can't even cry, I'm overwhelmed, flabbergasted. I don't even know how to process what I've just seen.

"You, okay?" he says.

"Not really." I shake my head. "Can we go and get a coffee or something?" I ask him, and he nods.

I watch as he puts coffee shop into Google and starts driving. As we round the corner, I recognize my sister's car parked at the side.

"Hey, pull over," I say.

He frowns at me, and I nod to the car.

“That's my sister's car."

He stops, and I look back. I can see that she's crying into the steering wheel.

"Can you wait for me a second?" I ask him.

"What are you going to do?" He looks nervous.

"I'm going to see if she's okay," I say, as I open the door. "Don't come with me," I say quickly, just in case he decides to get out. "I want to speak to her alone."

"Okay. But if you don't come back in ten or fifteen minutes, I am going to come check on you, okay?"

"Okay." I nod. I step out of my vehicle and walk over to my sister's car and knock on the window. She looks up abruptly. Her eyes are bloodshot, her cheeks splotchy.

"Hey, sorry," she says, winding down the window.

The inside of the car is completely trashed, with plastic bottles and empty fast food packages everywhere.

"Am I in front of your house?" she says, blinking. She grabs her sleeve and wipes her nose. "Sorry, I don't have a tissue."

"It's okay," I say. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. I just, you know. It's that time of the month. You know…"

She gives me a wide smile, and I realize that she's faking it. She has the same eyes as I do, our dad's eyes.

"Hey, I saw what happened back there."

"Sorry. What are you talking about? Are you spying on me? Who are you?" Her eyes narrow. She looks me up and down.

"My name's Sabrina," I say. "Sabrina Fillmore."

She blinks and shrugs. "Should I know you? Are you an actress?"

"Bless your heart," I say, interrupting her, laughing slightly. "I'm not an actress. Furthest thing from it, even though the guy in the car ahead of us would tell you that I'm an Oscar-worthy performer, but I'm not."

"Sorry. What are you talking about?"

"I'm pretending to be his fiancée because I kind of wrote an ad that got him a bunch of women that he didn't want, so now I'm pretending to be his fiancée, showing the world that I'm in love with him so that the women will back off.

He thinks I'm faking it, but I'm not because I actually do love him and—" I pause. “I’m making no sense, am I?"

"No, you're not. Look, if this is your house, I'll leave."

"Sorry. I'm not crazy. I'm really not," I sigh. "This is going to be weird because, I guess my dad changed his name, but I'm Sabrina Fillmore. I am Richard Fillmore's daughter."

"Okay, and?” She shakes her head. "What does that mean to me?"

"I think we have the same dad."

"What? No. Are you crazy? My dad's name is not Richard Fillmore. It's…" She pauses for a second. "I mean…" She looks at me for a couple of seconds. "His name is David. David Richard Moore." She blinks. "But no, there's no way. He doesn't have any other kids. He?—"

"Look at my eyes,” I say, opening them wide. "Look familiar?

She licks her lips nervously.

“You are my sister?"

I nod slowly. "I know this is a lot to unpack. I didn't even know about you until just now. I haven't seen my dad since I was seven years old, and I'm twenty-two now. Well, almost. He left me and my mom, and I guess he left to have a new family."

"Lucky you," she says, sounding bitter.

"Sorry. What?"

“I said, ‘Lucky you.’ He left. I wish he would leave us." She bites down on her lower lip. "Sorry, I shouldn't say that. Sometimes I just wish he were dead. Sometimes I—" She starts crying again. "I'm sorry. You must think I'm horrible."

"Not at all. I'm sorry that he's not the man I remember. I'm Sabrina."

"I know. I remember your name," she says, smiling.

"I was hoping that would make you tell me yours," I say with a smile.

"Oh, I guess you do want to know that. I'm Sadie," she says.

"Sadie?" My jaw drops. "No way."

"Yeah. Why?"

"I had a pig a long time ago, and I called her Sadie."

"So I'm named after your pet pig?"

"She wasn't a real pig," I say, shaking my head. “She was a stuffed toy, but it took me a long time to come up with that name,” I say. "Dad must really love you if he gave you that name."

"And I guess he really loved you if he chose a name that would mean so much to him," she says. "You want to have a seat?" She pats her passenger side door.

"Yeah, I do. Will you give me a moment? My friend in the other car wants to make sure I'm okay, and I don't want him to come and interrupt us."

"That's your friend who thinks you're a great actress?”

I nod and smile.

"The one you're in love with?"

"I didn't say that.” I frown. “I mean I don’t really know if I love him love him, you know?”

"I can tell," she says. “You love him. I can read people really well. That's how I know our dad's a piece of shit." She laughs. "But that's also how I know you're not."

"It's nice to meet you, Sadie," I say softly.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Sabrina. Even under these horrible circumstances."