Page 30 of Single Dad’s Fake Bride (Billionaire Baby Daddies #7)

HARRISON

"Harrison?" Juan's voice cut through my distraction. "You still there?"

"Yeah, sorry. The hospital's loud." I turned away from the window and walked toward the elevators where the noise was less overwhelming. "I need your advice."

"About the mother-in-law situation?"

"About all of it. Sadie's mother is sicker than we thought. Early-stage cirrhosis, and the doctor thinks she needs constant supervision. They're suggesting that she move in with us."

After a long pause he said, "That's a lot to take on."

"I know. But Sadie can't handle this alone, and her mother can't afford the level of care she needs." I rubbed my forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache. "The thing is, I want to help. Not because it benefits our arrangement but because…"

"Because you're in love with your fake wife."

I almost snapped at him but resigned to saying, "Yeah."

"Then you help her. You do whatever she needs, and you don't worry about the complications right now. The board, the inheritance, all of that—it's background noise. Focus on what truly matters."

"Keep my head down and stick to the plan?"

"Keep your head down and stick to what's right."

I ended the call and immediately dialed my lawyer's number. Theodore answered on the second ring, "Harrison. How did the meeting with the board go?"

"It didn't happen yet. I have a more immediate concern.

" I explained Mrs. Quinn's situation, the need for medical oversight, the possibility of her moving into our home.

"I need you to start paperwork for medical power of attorney, and I want you to research specialists.

The best doctors, the best treatment options. Money isn't an object."

"That's quite generous for your wife's mother."

The comment irritated me more than it should have. Blackwood knew this arrangement was fake, but he could've at least had the decency to be compassionate with me. "She's family now."

"Of course. I'll have the power of attorney documents ready by tomorrow morning, and I'll compile a list of specialists by end of week. Anything else?"

"Actually, yes. Dr. Caldwell has been demanding a copy of our marriage license. I'm going to deliver it in person this afternoon."

"Are you sure that's wise? Meeting with him alone?"

"I want to get ahead of whatever he's planning. The more cooperative I appear, the less ammunition he has."

After ending the call, I dialed Dr. Caldwell's direct number. His secretary answered, and I could hear the smugness in her voice when she recognized mine.

"Dr. Caldwell has been expecting your call, Mr. Vale. I'll patch you through."

I leaned against the wall and waited as she transferred my call. Everything here ran on protocols and procedures, much cleaner than the political games I was navigating at Hawthorne. I just wished life could be easy now. The stress of it all was getting to me.

"Mr. Vale? This is Dr. Caldwell."

"Doctor. I was just arranging to bring you the marriage license this afternoon."

"That's appreciated, but I'm afraid we have another issue to discuss. The board has scheduled an interview with the teacher you were allegedly involved with. Tomorrow at ten o'clock."

My jaw tightened. "There is no involvement, Dr. Caldwell. The rumor is completely false."

"That may be so, but the board has a responsibility to investigate any claims that could affect your ability to fulfill the terms of your father's will. A marriage facing infidelity would certainly call into question the stability requirement."

"The marriage is stable. The allegations are groundless." My jaw was tight as I spoke.

"Then the teacher in question should have no difficulty stating as much to the board."

I wanted to demand the name of the teacher, to know who was being dragged into this manufactured scandal, but I forced myself to stay calm. "Fine. Schedule your interview. But this harassment stops here."

"It's not harassment, Mr. Vale. It's due diligence."

The line went dead, and I stared at my phone with barely contained fury.

Dr. Caldwell was orchestrating this entire situation, using anonymous rumors to create problems where none existed.

But I had to trust that whoever this teacher was, she would tell the truth.

No one could admit to an affair that never happened.

The door to room 314 opened, and Janet's doctor emerged with a clipboard.

"Mr. Vale? Could I speak with you?"

We moved to a quieter alcove where he could review Janet's discharge instructions. The list was extensive—multiple medications with specific timing requirements, dietary restrictions, follow-up appointments with three different specialists, and weekly blood work to monitor her liver function.

"The most important thing is consistency," the doctor explained. "Missing doses or skipping appointments could set back her progress significantly."

"She'll have whatever support she needs."

"Good. Because honestly, patients in her condition do much better when they're not isolated. Having family around makes a tremendous difference in recovery outcomes."

When I rejoined Sadie in her mother's room, I found them both looking exhausted but relieved. Janet was sitting up in bed, her color slightly better than it had been hours earlier.

"The discharge papers are ready," I told Sadie. "We can take her home whenever she feels up to it."

"Home?" Janet looked confused. "I thought I was going back to the apartment."

Sadie glanced at me, then back at her mother. "Mom, the doctor thinks you need more help than the home nurse can provide. Harrison and I discussed it, and we'd like you to stay with us for a while."

"I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not a burden," I said firmly. "You're family."

The word felt natural coming out of my mouth, and I realized I meant it completely. This woman had raised Sadie, had shaped her into the person who was changing my entire world. That made her precious to me now, the same way Sadie was precious to me.

The drive home was quiet, Mrs. Quinn dozing in the passenger seat while Sadie sat in the back monitoring her mother's breathing.

I watched them both in the rearview mirror, struck by how naturally Sadie had stepped into the caretaker role.

She'd handled the medical information, asked the right questions, organized the discharge paperwork with a competence that impressed every nurse who worked with her.

When we stopped at a red light, I caught her eye in the mirror. "You've been incredible today."

"I've just been trying to keep up."

"No, you've been managing a crisis with more grace than most people could handle. Your mother is lucky to have you."

A small smile crossed her face. "We're both lucky to have you. I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't been there."

The light turned green, and I focused on driving, but her words stayed with me.

For years, I'd been the person who handled things alone, who solved problems through careful planning and self-reliance.

Having someone acknowledge my help, having someone be genuinely grateful for my presence, felt unfamiliar and wonderful.

Back at the house, Mrs. Patterson had kept Eloise entertained with cookies and card games. My daughter bounded toward us as we came through the front door, then stopped short when she saw Mrs. Quinn moving slowly behind us.

"Grandma Janet looks sick," she whispered to Sadie.

"She is sick, sweetheart. That's why she's going to stay with us for a while, so we can take care of her."

Eloise nodded solemnly, then approached Janet with the careful courtesy I'd taught her. "Would you like to see your room, Grandma Janet? Daddy says you can use the guest room, and it has a really good view of the garden."

I led the way upstairs, carrying her overnight bag while she climbed the steps slowly, one hand on the banister. The guest room was at the end of the hall, spacious and quiet, with afternoon light streaming through the windows.

"This is lovely," Mrs. Quinn said, settling carefully on the edge of the bed. "But I hate to put anyone out."

"You're not putting anyone out." I set her bag on the chair by the window. "The room has its own bathroom, and if you need anything during the night, just call. We're right down the hall."

Sadie had followed us up and was gathering her clothes from the dresser, moving her books and personal items to make room for her mother's things.

The sight of her clearing out space, making herself smaller to accommodate someone else's needs, reminded me of how she'd approached our entire arrangement—always giving, rarely asking for anything in return.

Mrs. Quinn watched her daughter's movements with tired eyes. "This is quite an adjustment for newlyweds. Most couples want privacy in their first months of marriage, not a sick old woman taking up residence."

The comment landed awkwardly, and I saw Sadie's hands still on the stack of sweaters she was holding.

"Marriage is about supporting each other through difficulties," I said carefully. "This is what families do."

Mrs. Quinn's laugh was dry and knowing. "Some marriage this is turning out to be."