Regarding The Tycoon's Toddler...

“We don’t really know, but we don’t believe so.”

Suzanne had been an only child, like him, and her parents had been gone for years, but Zane would have thought Weaver had family somewhere. “No distant cousin?”

“It’s a matter of form to look for any living relatives in a case like this, and my office staff is on it. But right now, it’s up to you to make arrangements for the child. The wording of Suzanne’s will is not exact, but the intent is clear.”

“Wording?”

He motioned to the stack of papers. “I’ll paraphrase, but there is a clause that the executor, you, will have full control over all matters of her life. The child is certainly a ‘matter,’ and as such, you are in charge of him, or at least his fate.” He spread his hand on the will. “What do you want to do?”

There was a sharp knock on the door, the barrier opened immediately and Matthew Terrel was there. The man was built like a linebacker, all muscles and lean strength, and looked nothing like the corporate lawyer and co-C.E.O. of LynTech. He was dressed all in black, his blond hair the only lightness about him at that moment. His face was grim.

Matt was the closest thing to a good friend that Zane had had for the past seven years, and Zane trusted him completely. He’d know what to do about this. “Matt—” Zane motioned to Mr. Stiller. “Edward Stiller, he just got here from Florida.”

Matt crossed the room, his dark eyes narrowed, his hand held out to the attorney. “Mr. Stiller,” he said in his deep voice. “Matthew Terrel.” He shook hands with the man, then looked at Zane. “What’s the emergency?”

“Listen to what Mr. Stiller has to say, then we’ll get to work.”

Matt moved closer, sank down in the other leather chair and sat forward, leaning toward Mr. Stiller. “Okay, bring me up to speed.”

While Stiller and Matt talked, Zane stood and went back to the windows. He listened to the two men as he frowned at his image bouncing back at him in the floor-to-ceiling windows. He saw a tall, lean man who’d stripped off his gray suit coat, unbuttoned his dark vest and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt—his maroon tie having been discarded two minutes after he’d arrived at work this morning. He looked tense, with eyes that were shadowed and unreadable. A cold man, Suzanne had called him. He hadn’t argued the point. To think she wanted him anywhere near a child was ludicrous. It’s the last thing she would have wanted.

If you don’t want children, then we don’t have a future. Her words that last day rang in his memory.

Then his words, the bare truth. No games. No empty promises or lies. “I’ve never wanted children. I don’t want them now.”

Suzanne had backed away from him—the memory was a blur now, but her words remained. “You’re self-centered and obsessed. And I made a terrible mistake marrying you.” Then, as she was leaving, she’d added, “God help the child if you ever slip up and one appears in your life. You’re as cold as stone.”

Now her child had appeared in his life. It was wrong, very wrong—as wrong as his thinking he could be married.

Suzanne had never guessed at the anger that had been there in flashes when they broke up, the bitterness over the fact that he’d done something so badly that she’d had to leave. He hated failure. He hated admitting defeat. But he’d learned a long time ago to cut his losses. So he had. She’d found Weaver, and Zane had gone back to work—

“Zane?”

Matt’s voice got him to refocus on the present, and he spoke without turning, choosing instead to look at the reflection of Matt in the glass. Matt was getting to his feet, but not moving from the other side of the desk. Stiller was sitting forward with his briefcase open on the desk again. Matt had the will in his hand.

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” he asked Matt.

Matt shrugged. “Ridiculous or not, the wording’s solid in the will. As it stands, you’re all the kid has until they can find a relative.”

“Suzanne wouldn’t have wanted me within twenty feet of any child she had. You know that.”

“She obviously didn’t think she’d be gone at thirty, or that this situation would become a reality. She probably meant to change her will. She just didn’t get the chance. There has to be someone out there, a relative of some sort that will take the child and raise him. But for now…” Matt exhaled. “What do you want from me?”

Zane turned to the two men, but looked right at Matt. “What do you figure my options are?”

“You could fight it—argue that you’re divorced, you no longer have any part in Suzanne’s life in any way, shape or form, and you refuse to get involved, despite the will.”

“And if I do that?”

“The boy will go into foster care with the county or state, until they find a home for him…if they find a home for him.”

His last glimpse of Suzanne had been in the attorney’s office, she’d been obviously pregnant and holding onto Dan Weaver’s hand. There hadn’t even been anger by that time. She’d wanted everything he hadn’t wanted, but even if there hadn’t been real love there, if there was such a thing, he knew that he’d cared about her. Despite what Suzanne had thought, he had cared.

“Option B?” he asked.

“Pay to have the boy taken care of until a relative can be found.”

He frowned at Matt. “Okay. That’s doable, very doable.”

Matt glanced at Mr. Stiller. “How about that? A nanny or a service or a baby-sitter, to take care of the boy? That would work, wouldn’t it?”

Mr. Stiller closed his briefcase. “It’s up to Mr. Holden. I’ll have the child brought out here, and take care of making final payment to the baby-sitter out there. Then Mr. Holden can—”

“Brought out here?” Zane cut in. “As in bringing him to the west coast?”

“Exactly,” the man said, looking right at Zane. “He can’t stay in Florida.”

“Why not? We can do what Matt said—get a nanny to care for him—”

“Well, if you or Mr. Terrel or your representative wants to go to Miami and take care of things, we can—”

“We can’t. You do it. I’ll pay for it.”

“That’s very generous of you, sir,” the man said with a shake of his head. “But I’m an attorney with a small staff that is already stretched to the limit, and I don’t have the time to do that sort of thing. Perhaps you can find someone else to do it out there?”

Zane looked at Matt, and the big man shrugged. “That’s too damn complicated. It’ll take up a lot of precious time just getting there. Then there’s setting it all up and monitoring the situation—”

“Whatever you decide on, you have one week to do it,” Mr. Stiller said abruptly. “The sitter can keep the boy until next Monday. He’ll have to be situated by then.”

“Option C,” Matt said to Zane.

“Which is?”

“Bring him out here. Set him up with a nanny at your penthouse at the hotel or wherever. That’s a hell of a lot less complicated than trying to do this long distance.”

Zane realized right then that he had no desire to see the child, much less live with him, even temporarily. But he knew that Matt was right. It was logical. And how hard could it be?

“Okay, we’ll do that.” He looked at Mr. Stiller. “Make all the arrangements for the trip, then contact us with the details. I’ll pay for everything. We’ll keep a discussion of what Suzanne left for the child for later. Just continue the search for a relative.”

“Of course,” the man said, snapping his briefcase shut, then gripping it by the handle as he glanced at Matt. “Who will be handling the legal aspects of this situation?”

Matt glanced at Zane. “What about the legal department?”

“I want to keep this close to home,” replied Zane. “I’ll owe you if you make sure things are set up properly.”

Matt nodded, then looked at Mr. Stiller. “My office is two doors down on the right. I’ll meet you in there in a couple of minutes.”

Matt showed the man out, then closed the door after him. Zane sank back down in his chair. Matt was studying him narrowly as he came back to the desk. But he didn’t sit down this time. He looked down at Zane.