Page 6 of The Fake Husband Deal

“Hoffman.” He held out his hand. “I’m your father’s attorney.”

I tried to hide my irritation. “I know all of my father’s attorneys, Mr. Hoffman, and I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of hearing your name before.”

The man was short, skinny, and had bright-blue eyes that seemed incapable of looking at anyone the wrong way, let alone doing what my father had his long string of attorneys and counselors do.

He didn’t seem phased by my rudeness. Maybe I wasn’t giving him enough credit.

“There’s a reason you haven’t heard of me, Mr. Van Stern. Your father wanted it that way.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m the executor of your father’s last will and testament.”

I frowned. “No, you’re?—”

“Thereallast will and testament.”

All day, I’d pushed aside my feelings and the impact of my father’s death to give my father’s business partners and acquaintances the impression that I was in control.

What forty-seven-year-old man has to prove himself to a bunch of strangers?

I did. Because regardless of my age, I was a Van Stern. My name meant money, status, birthright, and looking like I’d stuffed a big old stick up my ass.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that my father made two wills,” I said, not expecting an actual reply from the man. “Does my mother know about this?”

His ears went a deep shade of pink. “She found out within the last thirty minutes.”

Well, that explained her absence.

“What do you need from me, Mr. Hoffman?”

He held out an envelope.

“You might want to stay in the city tonight.”

I took the envelope and looked inside.

My face must have said it all because, within seconds, Charlie was by my side.

“Charlie, can you drop me off at the hotel? I won’t need you again until tomorrow.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“I am.”

I’d fulfilled my obligation for today. My dad’s investors, money friends, and Pierce could all get stuffed. It was time for some alone time with a bottle of scotch—anywhere else but here.

Noah

My brother’s words followed me home like a bad smell, so I hit the shower as soon as I got back to my apartment.

It wasn’t like me to dwell in the past or on what could have been, and Adam didn’t know how much those words got to me.

To my family, I was the ever-single, relationship-allergic Noah. My life was all about my family, the PR and marketing agency I ran with my brothers, and hooking up.

They were right on all accounts, but they didn’t know why I was like this. And since nothing was going to change, I did the only thing I knew how to do.

I picked up my phone and called my old friend Jax, who'd conveniently just moved into my apartment building.