Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
LOTTIE
My skin still tingles hours after shaking Thane Wilder’s hand as though he imprinted his DNA on me with a single touch.
If ever I needed a sign to stay away from a man, that would be it. Men like Thane, men like my father—and his for that matter—only lead to heartache of the soul-sucking kind.
Not to mention that he’s my client, and I don’t date clients. Ever.
And yet, here I am, hiding in the office of a kid camp I rented out because even the slightest glimpse of him has my heart rate skyrocketing.
He can’t be trusted.
Or maybe it’s me who can’t be trusted around him. I see handsome men all the time. I grew up among the elite where beauty is bred or created by a scalpel, but never have I had such an overwhelming reaction to someone after one freaking meeting.
My phone rings, and I’m so distracted by the memory, the intensity of his stare when we made eye contact the first time, that I answer without checking the caller ID. Rookie mistake.
“Charlotte.”
I swallow hard. Damn Thane Wilder. I’m going to blame him for this phone call too. Speaking to my father is the last thing I wanted to do today. Or ever.
“Hello, Father.” I sink into the office chair and drop my forehead onto the desk, then put the asshole on speaker. Anything is better than listening to him berate me directly in my ear.
“I’ve scheduled a meeting for next Monday at eleven sharp. I expect your attendance, and do not even think about showing up with that asshole attorney again. I don’t care what you believe you’ve built—you will not disrespect me again.”
I suck in a breath and count to four before speaking through clenched teeth. “My hotline and algorithm are not for sale. Not to you, or anybody else.”
My daydreams of a loving father who protected me were shattered well before puberty. Now our relationship is strictly about gaining control of my life.
“You ungrateful little?—”
“If that’s all you called for, you’re wasting your breath.”
“Charlotte.” My name has always sounded like a curse from his mouth. “You’re in over your head, little girl.” And there it is. The real reason he called. Daughters are meant to be seen, married off for power or money, and nothing else—at least in his corrupt world of powerful men who’ve gone unchecked for too many years. “If you think I’m the only one coming for your little company, you’re even stupider than I thought. I’ll block every move you make. I will fight you at every turn until I get what I want, and so will every other tech company in this country. You simply have no idea the war you’re bringing to your doorstep.”
What he says is probably true, and it’s why I can’t expand my hotline in the States right now. My next step has to be the European expansion. I just hope my best friend, Rowan, will accept my offer.
Without her running the European office, expansion won’t be possible. Not with the fights I’ll have to win here against men with no boundaries.
“Then perhaps the next time you call you should go through my attorney. Have a good day, Father.”
A gasp has me lifting my head from the desk. Kara Wilder stands in the doorway with her fist raised as though she froze mid-knock.
“You hung up on him.” Her voice is small, a stark contrast to her wide eyes. “I mean, I wasn’t trying to listen. I was…”
“It’s okay.” I force a smile for her benefit. “That’s what I get for putting him on speakerphone. Did you want to come in?”
She nods and opens the screen door that shrieks on its hinges.
“He doesn’t sound very nice.” I open my mouth to change the subject, but she goes on. “He actually sounds a lot like my dad.” My jaw snaps closed.
Considering our fathers are legitimate rivals in the technology industry, that doesn’t surprise me, but Kara is thirteen years old, and this conversation is already straddling the line of appropriateness.
“You stood up to him.”
This little girl stares at me as though I hung the moon, and it makes me protective in a strange sort of way.
“It’s important to stick up for yourself, Kara. Especially when there’s an obvious power imbalance. Just because someone is more powerful, it does not give them the right to belittle or attempt to intimidate you.”
“God, I’d love to tell my dad to go fuck himself.”
Shock has me sitting back in my chair. And then I burst out laughing. How many times have I had that same exact thought?
She sits in the chair opposite me, staring at the assembly line I’ve set up in front of me with packets for tomorrow’s activities.
“Can I help?” She’s so shy when she asks that my heart squeezes for her. How many layers does this little girl hide under the teenage sass?
“Aren’t you supposed to be in an activity with your brother right now?”
She shrugs and looks down, twisting her fingers in her lap. “He’s on the phone with Ophelia.”
That slight twinge of jealousy has no place here. I don’t even know the guy. Sure, he’s handsome, ridiculously so. And yes, he’s battling his asshole of a father for custody of his sister after said asshole drove with her in the car while intoxicated. Again.
But none of that guarantees Thane is a good guy, and it certainly doesn’t warrant freaking jealousy. How absurd.
“Who’s Ophelia?”
And just like that, I’ve lost control of my mouth.
Kara shrugs again, but her face brightens. “She was our housekeeper. She used to tell me stories about Thane when he was little. I guess she sort of raised us since our dad couldn’t give two shits about us.”
“That’s…” Sad? Nice? I’m not sure where to go with this.
“She’s old and has a heart condition now. Thane retired her to Puerto Rico, where her niece lives, when our dad fired her last year. Dad found out she was allowing Thane to visit me when he was away. Can you believe that?” Frustration clings to this little girl like a dark cloud.
“Thane stopped coming home after that, but my dad still fired her. He said I didn’t need a babysitter anymore anyway, and now he has maids come in three times a week who barely even talk to anyone. At least Ophelia cared. She said Thane calls her on the first of every month to see if she ‘requires anything.’”
My heart breaks for this little girl.
“Kara.” Thane’s husky voice causes the hair on my arms to stand on end. “I’m sure Charlotte has better things to do than listen to our familial theatrics.”
“Ugh. He’s everywhere. All the freaking time,” Kara grumbles before turning her head toward her brother, who stands in the doorway. “But her dad’s an ass too, so at least she gets it.”
“Your father fired a housekeeper after she allowed you to spend time with your sister?” I can’t decide if I’m interested because this is better than Bravo or because it’s too close to my own life.
Thane nods, his expression grave.
“And you call her every month?”
He nods again. “It’s in my calendar to call on the first of every month in case she needs money for unexpected expenses. Jonah didn’t have a retirement plan set up for her, even though she worked for him for over thirty years.”
Jonah Wilder, their father.
“Yeah.” Kara smirks. “But he only calls on the first of the month, and the call lasts like thirty seconds unless Ophelia is feeling well, and then she talks until she’s caught him up on every detail of her life over the last thirty days.”
“How do you know that?” Thane’s tone is gruff and sharp. He seems to lack the social niceties most of us are bound by.
“Ophelia calls me every week, and I actually ask her questions.” Kara sticks her tongue out at her brother, and his ears turn pink as he scowls at her.
“Kara, you’re required for swim lessons,” he tells her.
“I know how to swim, Thane.”
The dynamic these two have is mesmerizing. She reminds me so much of myself. But Thane? He’s not exactly what I expected either. I mean, my father wouldn’t be caught dead checking up on an old housekeeper.
Does Thane do it for Kara’s sake?
“Plus…” A devious smile curls Kara’s lips. “The swim lessons are for the both of us.”
I didn’t think it was possible for Thane’s posture to be any more erect, but the guy proves me wrong as his entire body locks into place.
“We’ll skip swim lessons today,” he says gruffly. But there’s something in his gaze as he stares at his sister. Something that makes me believe there might be more to this man than his grumpy exterior. There’s a softness he reserves for her, and that knowledge should not cause the butterflies in my belly to take flight.
I bite my tongue when I recognize the sadness in his eyes though—he’s lonely and struggling to connect with a sister more than half his age.
Thane Wilder may hold a similar position in the world as our fathers, but something in that one expression tells me he’s a better man than they could ever be.
He’s trying, and that says more about his character than anything else. He loves his sister, even if he has no idea what to do with her.
* * *
It’s been three days since I returned home from the nanny event, and by all accounts, it was a success.
The only outlier is Thane Wilder, who refused every match Rowan and I attempted to make for him.
Stretching my arms over my head, I yawn. It’s after ten, and I should be sleeping, but my mind keeps going over Thane’s hotline test.
No matter how many times I run it, I get the same results, but it’s a match I can never make for him.
My phone rings, and my heart jumps in my chest. It’s an unknown caller from New York, which means it’s my father. I hit decline, and it immediately rings again. It rings two more times, and I frown.
Rupert Sinclair doesn’t chase anyone.
Fear sits heavy in my belly when it rings once again. What if something’s wrong with my brother? I spoke to Elijah last week, but…
“Hello?”
“She’s gone, Charlotte. Kara is fucking gone.”
I stare at the phone in my hand, then bring it back to my ear.
“Thane?”
He grunts, and I guess that’s my answer.
“What do you mean, Kara’s gone?”
“She ran away.”
I’ve never heard so much emotion in his voice before. Even Rowan said he’s mostly monotone with her.
Rowan has been his hotline contact for a couple of months. Did she give him my private number?
“I know she told you I’m…different.” He actually sounds tortured as he admits that. “But I’m fucking trying here, Charlotte. I am trying. She deserves better than my father, but now she’s run away from me. What the hell is the court going to say to that? She can’t go back to my father. She can’t.”
He clears his throat and the emotion that was clogging his words with it. “He was three times over the legal limit when he forced her into that car with him this time, Charlotte. He could have killed her, and he’ll hardly do any time at all—even though it’s his fifth DUI—because of who he is. What the hell was she thinking, running away like this?”
I have a feeling that telling him to calm down would have the opposite effect, so I go straight to problem-solving. “Where are you now?”
“I’m walking through Gramercy Park. She couldn’t have gotten far, right?”
“Put some clothes on,” someone in the background shouts.
“My sister is missing, you fucking prick! Leave me alone.”
“Ah, Thane. Do you not have clothes on?”
“I’m wearing sleep pants, but I’m barefoot.”
“Why?”
“The alarm went off in my penthouse, and I ran out of bed after her.”
And he didn’t put on clothes or shoes. Okay.
“Do you know any of her friends? Any favorite places? That’s where you should start.”
“Friends?” That one word is sharp enough to decapitate.
“Yes, Thane. Friends. Did you call the police?”
He grunts again, and it sounds as though he’s running. “I called them before I called you. They’re on their way to my penthouse.”
“Then you need to go home and speak to them.”
“She’s thirteen, Charlotte.”
My heart cracks wide open.
Thirteen is too young to be on the streets of New York alone, especially at night.
“You’ll find her, Thane. But you need to go home, speak to the police, and make a list of everyone she’s been hanging out with, anywhere you know she likes to go. They’ll need a starting point.”
“A list.” He’s panting, nearly out of breath. “What if she’s all alone? What if someone…”
“Thane.” Anxiety has my voice cracking. “She hasn’t been gone that long, right?”
“Almost an hour. A fucking hour, and I don’t know where to find her. If something happens to her…”
“Don’t go there. Focus on what you can do to find her. You have resources and pull, Thane. Use it. Use everything at your disposal. I’m sure she’s probably with a friend. She’s been through a lot, and kids act out.”
I don’t even know what I’m saying at this point, but his fear bleeds through the phone as images of Kara flash through my mind.
There are so many horrible things that can happen to a young girl in a city like New York. It’s all I can do to keep those fears from choking me. I don’t know why Thane called me, but I’d be a monster not to help.
And if I’m honest, I’m already more than a little invested in this tiny family fighting to find their way.
“I can’t lose her, Charlotte. I don’t fail. Ever. My baby sister cannot be my first failure. She deserves more than that, more than me.”
“You’ll find her, Thane.” Please, please God, let him find her.
There’s a ding in the background, and then the city noise is silenced. “How do you know?”
“You just told me that you don’t fail. You’re one of the smartest men in America, and you’re running around New York City with no shoes on because you’re terrified of what will happen if you don’t, and that tells me how much you love your sister. You need to regroup and don’t allow fear to control you. You need a plan. You need to check her phone records. You need to talk to the police.”
“A plan. Phone records. Police.” He repeats it, a new mantra as unfamiliar sounds filter into the background.
“When I get my hands on her, I’m going to handcuff her to myself for eternity.”
I don’t think he means it, but it does sound like he’s getting a handle on his fear, and that’s a start.
“What do you need me to do, Thane?” There must be a reason he called me, and if I can do something, I want to.
“She wants you, Charlotte. It’s all I’ve heard for the last three days. She connected to you in a way I can’t. Can—Can you try to call her?”
“Of course. I have her number on the application you filled out. I’ll call you right back. Is this the number I should call?”
“Yes.”
Then the line goes dead.
She connected to you in a way I can’t. Thane’s words, and the pain in them, repeat in my heart and mind as I scroll through the file I have on them.
I don’t know why he thinks I’ll be the one to reach her, but she’s the reason why I started the Single Dad Hotline. Little girls like her—little girls like me—need adults in their lives who care. And right now, I care more about these near-strangers than I’ve cared about anyone in a very long time.