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She’d had enough of the bachelor auction and Scott Belmont for one night. In fact, she didn’t plan on thinking about him again until she had to.
Chapter 3
Scott finished his reply and hit Send. It had taken him over an hour but he’d answered all the emails in his in-box. He didn’t like calling it a day without taking care of those, and he disliked doing it at home. Most days he would’ve tackled it long before now, but he’d spent much of his morning and afternoon either in meetings or on the phone with the London office.
“Have you recuperated from the auction?” Dylan Talbot asked from the doorway, causing him to look away from his computer.
“I think so.” He gestured for Dylan, who was not only the CEO of Sherbrooke Enterprises but also a longtime friend and his cousin Callie’s husband, to enter. “What are you doing here so late?” Before his marriage, Dylan had spent more hours than anyone at the office. Since getting married and having a son, he limited how much time he spent at work.
“Callie and James left this morning for Virginia. She’s visiting Lauren and her husband.”
He’d met Lauren once. She’d been Callie’s maid of honor. He didn’t think she’d been married at the time.
“Since she and James are gone for a few days, I decided to handle a few issues now rather than put them off until tomorrow.” Dylan sat on the leather sofa across the room. “How was the auction last week? Callie told me Tasha tried hard to win Derek, but he managed to escape.”
“He made sure of it.” Scott suspected Brooklyn had strong feelings for his cousin but doubted she’d ever act on them. Although perhaps she should, because she and Derek belonged together, and unfortunately his dimwitted cousin hadn’t realized it yet. Either that or he for whatever reason refused to acknowledge it.
“Callie said something similar. She didn’t recognize the woman on stage with you, but thought she was sitting with Bebe Fleming.”
Scott stood, went to the liq
uor cabinet, and poured himself some whiskey. “Want one?” he asked, holding up the bottle.
“Sure.”
He filled a second tumbler with his favorite whiskey. “I didn’t know her until Friday night either.” Scott handed Dylan his glass and then sat in the chair across from his friend. “Her name’s Paige, and she came with Bebe Fleming.” He took a sip of the amber liquid, enjoying the smoky taste. “I got the impression Paige didn’t want anything to do with the bidding. That it was all Bebe’s doing.”
Even if he’d missed the interaction between the two at their table, Paige’s reluctance to join him on stage provided enough evidence.
“Are they related?”
“Bebe is Paige’s aunt.” He’d asked his sisters, both of whom knew everyone who was anyone in New England, if they’d ever met or heard of Paige Foster. Both had said no.
Dylan raised his glass to his mouth but stopped just short of tasting it. “And you looked confused by that. The Flemings are a large family. Bebe’s husband has six brothers. I imagine Bebe Fleming has numerous nieces and nephews.”
“She probably does, but Paige isn’t a Fleming. She’s a Foster. Michael Foster, as in Foster Oil, is her grandfather.”
His friend raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. I didn’t realize he had a son.” Dylan took another sip from his glass.
“Neither did I.”
“And rumor has it Foster plans on handing the reins of the company over to his grandson in the next year or two. He seems like the type to put his son in charge first, assuming the son is still alive.”
Scott hadn’t considered death as a reason he’d never heard anyone mention Paige’s father. “I suppose he could be deceased. Paige and I didn’t speak long at the auction.”
“If it bothers you so much, do an Internet search on Michael Foster, or try my mum. She’d know, and I think she’s back in DC.”
Dylan’s mom, his Aunt Elizabeth, would know. Her and Uncle Warren’s property in Texas bordered Foster’s ranch. Calling the First Lady, even if she was his aunt, for this seemed extreme. Not to mention a waste of Aunt Elizabeth’s time. And to him an Internet search felt like a breach of Paige’s privacy. “Aunt Elizabeth has more important matters. Besides, it’s not a big deal. If Paige wants to share the details she will. It only struck me as odd because you’d think someone would’ve heard of her. Everyone in New England seems to know each other.” Scott sipped his whiskey and dismissed the mystery of Paige Foster from his mind. Regardless of her family tree, they’d be going on a few dates together and then never see each other again.
Rather than discuss the fundraiser or Paige anymore, he asked, “When’s Callie coming home?” Although Dylan had once been a confirmed bachelor, Scott knew he got lonely whenever away from his wife for even a few days.
“Friday morning. We’re having a big party in Greenwich on the Fourth. Jake and Charlie are coming up with Garrett. If you’re not busy, stop by,” Dylan said, referring to his half brother—who also happened to be Scott’s cousin—his wife, and their son. “Trent and Addie will be there with the baby, as will Chase. He arrives on Thursday.”
“Again?” Chase Talbot, Dylan’s younger half brother who lived in England, had visited more in the past ten months than he had in the past five years.
“He comes to see James, not me. He likes being an uncle.”
Scott didn’t see Chase too often, but he’d always gotten the impression Dylan was much closer to his half brother Jake and half sister, Sara, than Chase. Not that it was unexpected, considering the age difference and the fact Dylan called the United States home, while Chase remained in England close to their father.
