The Tycoon's Secret Child

Perfect. He had his own computer experts and they couldn’t give him a direction to focus the fury still clawing at his throat.

“What else?” Another swallow of beer as he plopped back onto the couch and stared at the flames dancing in the hearth.

“Personnel did a deeper check on the name you gave them, and turns out Isabelle Gray’s name is really Graystone. Her family’s got holdings in pretty much everything. She’s an heiress.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I know that.”

“Oh. Well, that was anticlimactic. Okay. Moving on.” She forced cheer into her voice. “On the upside, IT says the Twitter trend is dying off. Apparently you’re down to number ten today instead of number one.”

“Great.” Wes made a mental note to check with his IT guys on the status of his Twitter account when he got off the phone. What he really needed was for some celebrity to do something shocking that would be enough to push him off the stage entirely.

“And the warehouses are set up for delivery of the doll. Everything’s ready to roll out on time.”

“Good.” He set the beer on the coffee table and rubbed his eyes in a futile attempt to ease the headache pounding there. “Keep on top of this stuff, Robin, and make sure I’m in the loop.”

“Boss,” she said, “you are the loop.”

He had to smile and he was grateful for it. “Right. Did you hear from Harry today?”

“Yep, he’s on it. He’s working with PR to put a spin on all this, and when he’s got the ideas together, he says he’ll call you to discuss it.”

“Okay. Look, I’m going to be staying in Colorado for a while.”

“How long?”

“Not sure yet.” However long it took to make sure the mother of his child understood that she was living in a new reality. “You can always get me on my cell. I’m at the Swan Hollow Palace hotel—”

“Swan Hollow?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He smiled to himself again. “Weird name, but nice town from what I’ve seen.”

“Good to know. I still can’t believe you made the reservations yourself rather than let me handle it as always.”

“I was in a hurry,” Wes said and wondered why he was almost apologizing to his assistant for usurping her job.

She paused, then went on. “Fine, fine. When the final drawings on the PR campaign are turned in, I’ll overnight them to you at the hotel. If you need anything else, let me know and I’ll take care of it.”

“Robin,” he said with feeling, “you are the one bright spot in a fairly miserable couple of days.”

“Thanks, boss,” she said, and he heard the smile in her voice. “I’ll remind you of that when I want a raise.”

“I know you will,” he said and was still smiling when he hung up.

Alone again, he drank his beer, and still facing hours to kill before speaking to Isabelle again, Wes had an idea. Grabbing the remote that worked both the flat-screen television and the computer, he turned the latter on. In a few minutes, he was watching an online video to learn ASL.

American Sign Language.

Three (#u4992dfbf-618a-522f-8d14-9645f99d2879)

Wes could have walked to Isabelle’s house, since it was just outside town, but at night, the temperature dropped even farther and he figured he’d be an icicle by the time he arrived. The five-minute drive brought him to the long, winding road that stretched at least a half mile before ending in front of the stately Victorian. His headlights swept the front of the place and he took a moment to look it over.