The Broken One (Corisi Billionaires, #1)(9)

“It’s just a stuffed animal.”

“Thanks for bringing the package in to me, Teri.” She accepted the gentle dismissal in my tone. It was okay that she didn’t understand. I didn’t need her or anyone else’s approval—not when it came to Ava. If I had listened to well-meaning friends, I wouldn’t have taken on the responsibility of her in the first place. A friend, one who had drifted out of my life soon afterward, had told me I would regret adopting Ava—and it had been wrong for Brenda to ask me to, since her child wasn’t my problem.

Problem? Of all the things Ava was to me, she’d never been that.

No matter how she’d come into my life, she’d become part of me just as I was part of her. Family wasn’t a concept I considered myself an expert on, but Ava had given me a second chance at getting it right. I didn’t regret a single sleepless night or missing out on whatever people my age did when they didn’t have children.

I took the package off my desk and set it on the floor. The Eddys had been clients of mine almost from the first day I’d opened my doors. Their kindness warmed my heart. I took out a piece of stationery and wrote a thank-you note, then put it in my pile of outgoing mail.

My attention returned to the stuffed animal they’d sent. Trying to pass it off as the real Wolfie was tempting, but I knew I couldn’t do it. Others might handle the situation differently or better, but right or wrong, all I could do was the best I knew how to.

I decided to give the wolf to Ava with the truth about where he came from. It was the same brand—that had to make it Wolfie’s cousin or something.

I dug into answering emails and updating files for my clients. Time flew by, as it always did when I lost myself in work. There was a certain satisfaction from knowing I was good at what I did and that what I did mattered. I’d been offered jobs at a few big financial-planning firms, but I wouldn’t have felt comfortable giving up control like that.

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust anyone—just that I trusted myself and my instincts more. Having the rug pulled out from beneath my feet early in life had taught me the value of owning my own damn rug.

“Knock, knock.”

I came back to the present to see Teri standing at my office door again. “I have something you should see.”

My stomach did that funny flip again even as I told myself to stay off that roller coaster. I sat back and stretched my arms above my head. “What?”

She walked over to the side of my desk and turned her phone so I could see the screen. “Your post about Wolfie has been shared five thousand times.”

I took her phone so I could see it better. “You’re kidding.” No, there it was—five thousand shares and hundreds of comments. I scanned the first fifty or so. “Did anyone say they’d seen him?”

Teri pursed her lips. “No. Sorry.”

I handed her phone back to her. “That’s incredible, though. I’ll show Ava tonight. I’m sure it’ll make her feel better that so many people are looking for him. Thanks for bringing it to my attention.”

I wasn’t actually sure that the shares would help at all—but there was a chance they might. I wasn’t looking forward to telling Ava I hadn’t found him. One almost-Wolfie and hope . . . that was all I had.

Pocketing her phone, Teri continued to look down at me. “Some of my friends are meeting me after work. We thought we’d look for him before we go out. Ask around at gas stations and stuff. I’ll text you if we find him.”

A lump rose in my throat. “Thank you.”

Teri didn’t move. She looked like she had something else she wanted to say. I waited. Finally, she said, “Ava’s lucky to have a mother like you.”

I blinked quickly and smiled. “Are you angling for a raise?”

Her smile beamed. “No, but if that’s where gratitude takes you, I’ll have my friends look for Wolfie all night.”

“Find Wolfie, and you’ll have earned a raise.” I chuckled and checked the time. “It’s four. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Alone again, I leaned back in my chair and let out a long breath. Five thousand shares. I had expected only a handful of people to care. I took out my phone and read the messages with a growing sense of wonder. Friends, clients, people I didn’t know, were sharing stories of their own childhood “Wolfie.” Some still had them. I wiped tears from the corners of my eyes.

I didn’t know if it was the simplicity of a child loving a stuffed animal or the connection people were making to a more innocent time in their lives, but their responses restored some of my faith in humanity. The comments came from people of all ages, races, backgrounds. Even men were saying that they had shared my post on pages and groups they belonged to.

Someone had even shared it on a page for active and retired Marines.

When all else fails—send in the Marines.

I smiled.

Why not?

Earlier that day, I’d been ready to give up, but the outpouring of support for Ava was bringing something back to life in me.

I was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, this time there’d be a happy ending.





CHAPTER FIVE



* * *



SEBASTIAN

As I walked into my office building, I missed the days when I cured a hangover with a good, stiff drink. Thankfully, a headache was all that was left of the day before. If I spoke to any of my family, they would act as if last night hadn’t happened.