Those Three Words: A Single Dad, Billionaire Boss Romance(19)

I look down at the mess, cock still in hand, and shame takes over. I stand up quickly and remove my shirt, pants, and underwear like they’re to blame before jumping into the shower to clean myself off and tell myself that I’ll never let that happen again.

I wake the next morning feeling well rested and in a good mood considering how disgusted I felt with myself last night. Between the release and the nice chat I had with Margot, I find myself surprisingly chipper.

I’m not usually in a bad mood, but it’s fair to say that my reputation isn’t that I’m an overly cheerful guy. I’m not ruthless or unfair. I’m a great boss, a loyal companion and friend, and I’m a pretty big stickler for ethics when it comes to business. I just prefer to keep to myself. Even before Meredith died, I wasn’t going out of my way to be social. I prefer a quiet evening at home or the solace of my own company in my office where I can think undisturbed.

The flight home is smooth and quick. Phil is there to greet me on the tarmac, taking my luggage and getting us quickly on the road back to the house.

We’re only a few minutes from the house when I receive a text from Warren Dorsey.

Warren: Graham, the dinner meeting with Tech Titans is set for next Thursday. Morton’s at 7 p.m. Be there.

My good mood is instantly gone. Who the fuck does he think he is? I told him I’d consider a meeting between him and Tech Titans, not that I was absolutely getting involved in this mess he created. I don’t respond to the text; I’ll deal with it later. I shove my phone back into my pocket as we pull up the driveway.

I take a few deep breaths, not wanting to drag my work life into my home life. I open the door and step inside with my bags, dropping them at the front door as I step inside. I’m instantly hit with an offensive smell.

“What the hell?”

I wrinkle my nose and glance around but nothing seems out of the ordinary. That’s when I take the step off the front door landing, my foot sliding out from beneath me, and a brown streak follows it across the floor.

“What the fuck is that?” I catch myself on the corner of the wall and turn around to see a small pile of what looks like animal shit on my custom Italian marble floor.

“Miss Silver!”





7





MARGOT





“She loves it!” Eleanor squeals as her new kitten Muffin chases the ribbon across the floor. The small bell on her pink collar jingles as she jumps and tumbles across her lap.

“Are you excited to show your daddy?”

“Yes. I hope he loves her as much as I do,” she says, distracted by the kitten jumping across her lap.

I was hesitant to let her adopt a kitten even after speaking to Miss Perry, but then yesterday afternoon, Miss Perry showed up with a kitten and adoption papers. I was shocked and told her as much, but she said that Mr. Hayes was fully on board and when she stopped by the shelter and saw this little furry angel, she couldn’t risk her being adopted out from under her nose so she pulled the trigger.

Clearly, she’s never had a pet before because she brought home only the kitten, no food or necessary care items. It was no worry though. I took Eleanor out to the pet store and we picked up all the necessary things along with way too many toys and a few little outfits she insisted we buy.

We set up a litter box in Eleanor’s bathroom and I talked her through how to scoop the litter, which is thankfully flushable, how much and how often to feed Muffin, and a few other housekeeping items regarding cats. I don’t expect her to take care of her on her own at all; I’ll be there to make sure she gets fed every day, her litter scooped, and the occasional nail trim.

Our playtime is interrupted when I hear Mr. Hayes scream my name from downstairs. I bolt upright and Eleanor looks at me with a concerned expression.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” I say with a cheerful smile, hoping she doesn’t get worried about her father’s temperament. I scramble down the hall and bound down the stairs.

“Everything okay, Mr. Hayes?”

“Does it fucking look like it?” He spits the words out, not even bothering to look up at me as Miss Perry hands him a paper towel. I watch as he wipes the bottom of his shoe off and that’s when I notice the brown streak across the floor.

“Oh goodness,” I say as I run the rest of the way down the stairs and toward the kitchen.

“Stay here,” he says through gritted teeth, and I stop in my tracks, slowly spinning around to face him.

“What is that?” He points to the now smashed pile.

“Umm, cat poop?” I don’t mean for it to sound like a question, but it does.

“And why the hell is it in my house when we don’t have a cat?”

My eyes dart from his to Miss Perry and I’m thoroughly confused.

“Uh, we do have a cat now. Muffin, the kitten we adopted for Eleanor?”

I can see rage settle over his face, and I think he’s about to explode like a volcano.

“What?”

“Miss Perry said—”

“This isn’t about Miss Perry. This is about you allowing my daughter to adopt a cat when I don’t recall ever having that conversation with you.”

I glance nervously back at Miss Perry who has quickly ducked out of the entryway and out of sight. That bitch set me up. I shake my head when the realization hits me. I should have known she switched from hating me to being warm way too quickly and way too easily.