The Broken One (Corisi Billionaires, #1)(2)

“Are you supposed to be in here?” a female voice asked from the door.

Judy turned her paper over. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Not a hardship since I’m technically babysitting you.” Dressed in a casual but chic pantsuit, Alethea floated across the room. Her red hair was tied back in a sophisticated, loose bun. She could have been a model. Everyone said so, but instead she ran a security company with her husband, Marc Stone. Safety was serious stuff.

Being born to a family of wealth came with perks, but Judy had learned early that it also had a cost. Her father was internationally well known and, by default, so was Judy. She didn’t know what it was like to go to a playdate without a security detail. She’d never gone for a walk without the same.

Marc and Alethea made sure Judy was safe, and she couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t been part of her life.

According to Mrs. Chase, that doesn’t make them tree-worthy.

Alethea took a seat in the chair in front of the desk, crossing one leg gracefully over the other. “What can I do for you?”

Tapping her fingertips lightly on the desk, Judy leaned forward. “I’d like to hire you for a project, but absolute discretion is imperative.”

“Absolute discretion.” Looking as if she were holding back a smile, Alethea nodded. “Of course.”

“I’m serious.” Loving Alethea as she did didn’t mean she was blind to her aunt’s reckless history. “I can’t get grounded again—not right before summer vacation.”

With one eyebrow arched, Alethea asked, “Grounded? I don’t know what you’re planning, but it already sounds like I won’t be able to help you. I would never go against your parents’ wishes.”

Judy rolled her eyes skyward. “Oh, please. Trouble is your middle name.”

Looking unfazed, Alethea shook her head. “Perhaps once, but not anymore. Ask your uncle Marc. I’m rather boring lately—just a happily married woman who spends most of her time in an office.”

That was true and had been the topic of more than one conversation Judy had pretended not to overhear. It was time to lay that card on the table; a new challenge was just what Alethea needed. If riding lessons had taught Judy anything, it was that falling off didn’t define a rider, but getting back on or not did. “Auntie Lil says you haven’t been yourself since you botched a job for Delinda Westerly.”

Alethea frowned. “Really? I wasn’t aware she felt that way.”

Whoops. “She didn’t say botched. I’m summarizing.”

Her aunt pursed her lips. “I appreciate the clarification.”

This wasn’t going how Judy had imagined. Time to refocus. “If you’re too scared to help me, I’ll ask Uncle Jeremy. Or maybe Auntie Zhang.”

Alethea’s eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you a little young to already sound like your father?”

Judy sat up straighter. “Age is a number.”

“You’re nine.”

“Will you help me or not?”

After a quiet moment, Alethea uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “What do you need?”

“First you have to promise to keep this between you and me.”

“Keep what?”

“First promise.”

Concern filled Alethea’s eyes. “If someone at school is bothering you—”

“It’s not that.”

“Honey, you know I can’t promise to keep anything from your parents.” One hand went to her temple in what looked like an attempt to massage away the start of a headache. Her other went protectively to her stomach.

Her stomach. “Are you pregnant, Auntie Alethea?”

“Why do you ask that?” Alethea’s hand fell to her lap, and her face went white. For a long moment she looked more uncertain than Judy had ever imagined her supersleuth aunt could.

“You’re married. That’s when people start having babies. Unless they don’t know about condoms, then babies just happen.”

Shaking her head, Alethea said, “Judy, I’m not ready for you to grow up yet. Where did you learn about babies?”

“School and the internet.”

Rubbing her hands over her temples again, Alethea took a deep breath. “You know you can ask me anything. Even about . . . sex.”

Judy shook her head vigorously. “Ew. No. Sex sounds gross. No. Stop. It’s not about that.”

Looking relieved, Alethea lightly slapped her own cheeks twice, then crossed her legs again. “Well, then, let’s talk about this job you want to hire me for.”

According to her father, the art of negotiation involved standing firm, because nine times out of ten the other person would cave in the face of unwavering confidence. Back straight, shoulders squared, she looked across her father’s desk and calmly held her aunt’s gaze. She already knows my condition—all I have to do is wait.

“You’re good,” Alethea said with a chuckle of resignation. “I promise I won’t tell anyone unless I feel that you’re in danger.”

“Okay.” Judy nodded and turned back over her school assignment, then leaned over her desk toward her aunt. “My teacher asked my class to make a family tree. I have to redo mine.”