Being the product of an affair is never easy.

“Nicky,” he said, pushing off the wall. He glanced at the nearby door, the way into the meeting room, then to me. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I'm sorry!” I groaned, brushing my palms on my pants. “It was... something just came up.” The word 'up' conjured the image of Abell's cock flexing towards the sky, thick and delicious and...

Holy shit focus, you damn nympho. Is this what happened when you got laid for the first time in forever? How did you detox from sex?

Shaking his head, Gram reached out to smooth some strands of hair on my scalp. “They're inside, waiting for you.”

The unsaid sentence was there in the air. I was part of this, but not Gram.

He'd never been allowed in any of the company meetings.

Though he worked here, my brother was treated worse than a regular employee. He had no perks, no real bonuses for being related to my dad. Gram was tolerated at best, part of my father's guilt, and drenched in the shame of how he'd come into existence.

My mother flat out hated him.

I'd been surprised when he chose to work for us, but over time, I'd understood. Jobs were hard to come by in today's market, and Gram had never gotten a degree; his mother couldn't afford to put him through college, and my father refused to help.

Even with the emotional abuse he took, Gram stayed here because he actually loved what he did. Something about the act of problem solving the company finances really left him proud. That counted for something.

Inhaling deeply, I stepped towards the door. “Anything else I should know?”

I could have sworn that something flashed across his face. “Just get in there before they implode.”

Grinning, I soothed my nerves as much as I could... and entered the room.

The long, dark pine table—capable of holding fifteen people—contained only three. My mother, looking ever more tense, my father with his constant frown, and a man I'd only ever seen on the covers of magazines.

Corin Birch.

He looked the same age as my dad, but there were far less wrinkles across his face. Striking blue eyes, richly tan skin, I was sure he was quite the catch when he was younger. Maybe he still was, silver foxes had their appeal.

They all turned to me at once, reminding me just how empty the room was. Wasn't this supposed to be a hugely important meeting? A hard pit grew in my guts. Shouldn't the share holders be here, or the managers, or just... anyone else?

“Nichole,” my mother said, not muting her exasperation. “Where have you been?”

I hated when she used my full first name. “I got caught in traffic,” I lied casually. Flicking a quick look at Corin, I slid into a chair next to my father. “Sorry about being late.”

“Thirty minutes late,” my dad sighed.

My lips pulled into a forced smile. Be professional. “Right, I'm sorry to make you all wait. Especially you, Mr. Birch. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Corin chuckled, a thickly rich sound. “She's so much like you, Gabby,” he said, eyeing my mother. “That same charming mask when she's trying to impress someone.” His sly smirk was oddly familiar.

That comment struck me as rude, and out of place. My mother shifted in her seat, not looking at me. “Mr. Birch,” she said flatly. “How much longer do we have to wait for your son to arrive?”

His son?

Corin's smile twitched. “I'm sure Abram is on his way. We already waited half an hour, what's a bit more?”

“Excuse me,” I said, lifting my hands and spreading my fingers. “Your son is coming here?” I'd only ever heard about Corin Birch's son, but the rumors weren't very flattering.

Reckless, alcoholic, arrogant with an addiction to wild sex...

I didn't want to meet Abram, why would my parents want to?

My dad kept his gaze on the tabletop. “We'll explain everything once he's arrived.”

I laughed warily. “I thought this was a business meeting, but everyone is acting strange. Where are all the other execs, what's really going on here?”

“Calm down, Nichole,” my mother hissed.

Palming my forehead, I looked straight at Corin. He had his fingers steepled patiently in front of him. “Mr. Birch, please, can you explain what's going on here?”

Before he could answer, the door opened.

Twisting, I looked at the man who swayed—swayed—into the meeting. He had his thumbs hooked in his pockets, a leather belt enhancing the fitness of his lower stomach. I could see his muscles through his shirt and open jacket. The sun that filtered past the windows turned the blue of his eyes into crystals.

Comfortable, calm, and undeniably handsome.

Abram Birch.

Abell.

The man I'd hooked up with last night.

Oh shit, I thought, meeting his surprised stare.

Abell paused, recognizing me and obviously not expecting to. Slow as fresh honey, a smile spread over his face. “Well, hey there.”

Everyone was watching me. A fierce blush rolled up my neck. “You're Corin Birch's son? You?”

Fuck fuck fuck what the hell had I done.

Corin made a gruff noise. “Glad you could make it, Abram.”

“No problem,” he said. “I thought I'd have something to... keep me busy this morning, but that didn't pan out.” He hadn't stopped looking at me since he'd entered. Even now, he kept watching me as he answered his father.

My heart was in overdrive; I couldn't breathe. Torn between feeling humiliated or furious, I bit my tongue and squeezed my knees. Everything was spinning, my world wobbly.

Why did it have to be him that I'd hooked up with?

And why the hell were we all here!?

“Have a seat,” Corin said. “Then we can get started.”

Putting his hand on a chair across from me, Abell slid into it. “You could have started without me. You never needed me at any of your meetings before.”

Corin glanced at him, his eyes hard. “I need you this time.”

My father rocked side to side uncomfortably. “Let's get this over with.”

“Get what over with?” I asked, breaking my silence.

Holding a hand over her mouth, my mother breathed out loudly. Then she opened her briefcase, placing a stack of papers on the table between her and Corin. “You explain it,” she mumbled.

This was all wrong. I'd been to many meetings for our company, and not once had everything been so private or tense. This felt as if I'd stumbled into something... dangerous.

Corin pulled the papers closer, flipping them, reading the tiny words. “You don't want to be the one to explain to your daughter what her choices are?”

I leaned closer. “Choices? What's written in there, what's happening?”

“Mr. Birch—Corin,” my mother hissed. “Please. Don't drag this out.”

“Fine. As you wish.” He lifted his eyes, fixing them on me. “Miss Halloway,” he said, “Tell me, how long have you worked for your parents' company?”

Under the table, something touched my foot. I startled, realizing it was Abell's shoe. He was trying to rub my ankle.

Eyeballing him with a warning, he winked, clearly not bothered by my irritated frown. Ignoring him, I said to his father, “I've legally worked here since I was seventeen. But I've been here constantly since I was a child, doing anything they wanted—anything they'd let me.”

Corin's smile was indulgent. “So you enjoyed working here?”

“Of course!” Nothing felt more satisfying than figuring out what another company needed to increase their success. Marketing was a game, but it had rules and I'd ingrained those rules after years of hard work. Some of my tension melted as I dipped into this familiar territory. “It's how I spend all of my time. It's my life.”

“And,” he went on, “You expected that someday, you'd take over? Inherit all of this, being an only child?”

I wasn't technically an only child, but Gram had no chance of inheriting anything.