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The Black Sheep's Secret Child
Savannah grimaced. “I’m not sure closing on my house is a reason to celebrate.”
“Then just consider it an opportunity for the two of us to get reacquainted.”
“Do you really want a tour of the company?” She sounded uncertain.
He hoped she was worried about how his father would react to her bringing Trent into West Coast Records. Her notion that he could do something to help her save the company was crazy.
“Absolutely. Why don’t you give Gerry a call and tell him you’re bringing by your financial adviser to look over the books.”
Savannah gave him the first genuine smile he’d seen. “He’s not going to be happy about that.”
“Do you really care?”
“Siggy isn’t going to be happy about that, either.” It didn’t appear as if that bothered her, but Trent suspected it did a little. His father was bound to make her life miserable if he discovered she’d teamed up with Trent. “Are you going to help me with the company?”
“No.” His intention was simply to let his father think that’s what he intended to do. Perhaps then Siggy would buy back his company from Savannah, allowing her and Dylan to head off to her new life in Tennessee.
She looked confused by his answer. “Then why do you want to see the books?”
“Something has to be going on,” he said. Overnight his curiosity had been aroused by what she had told him. While he’d heard West Coast Records was struggling, things didn’t sound as if they were bad enough for them to stop paying their artists. “It doesn’t surprise me that profits are down, but something more serious must be happening if things are in the state you say they are.”
“What if Gerry refuses to give me the information?”
“Then we’ll have our answer as to who is at the center of what’s going on there, won’t we?”
“You think Gerry has something to do with this?”
“With Siggy retired and Rafe sick, he was in the perfect position to mismanage the company.” And Trent had never been particularly impressed with the man’s business savvy. “So let’s go see what’s going on, shall we? I’ve chartered a plane. I’ll pick you up downstairs at ten thirty.”
“We’re already scheduled on a flight to LA.”
“It will be easier if I’m not chasing all over LAX looking for you.” He softened his tone. “And it will be more comfortable for you.”
Trent felt a tug on his pant leg and looked down. His nephew was standing, looking up at him. The boy’s blue eyes, so reminiscent of Rafe’s, were fixed on Trent’s face. Something in his chest tightened. All at once he couldn’t breathe.
This was Rafe’s son. Savannah’s son. Like a man drowning, Trent saw his past with Savannah flash before his eyes. The joy on that Christmas morning when she’d woken up to Murphy’s sweet puppy face and adorable snuffles. What had he been thinking? He’d bought her a dog. She’d been feeling gloomy about spending the holidays alone. So he bought her something to take care of and flown to New York to give it to her. Making a woman happy had never been as easy as it had been with her.
And then because she’d misinterpreted his gift, he’d felt compelled to distance himself for months after.
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