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TWENTY-EIGHT
NALANI
I couldn’t focus.
Well… I could, just on the wrong damn thing.
This meeting with Stanford Reese had already been on my calendar, but it wasn’t supposed to be about heritage and secret affairs and all that.
It wassupposedto be about expandingNectar’sterritory.
If only that was what I wanted to think about, really.
I sat straight up at my computer when the expected knock sounded at the door—my assistant, letting me know Stanford was here. Instead of remaining in my seat, I hopped up, wanting to meet him at the door.
Knowing what I did now, I wasn’t sure how I’d missed it when we first met.
He was Soren, in twenty or thirty years.
“Mrs. Sterling,” he greeted me warmly, extending a hand. “Good to see you again.”
“Likewise.” I nodded, accepting his handshake. It feltsoformal, knowing that he’d had such a deep relationship with my mother—who I looked just like, according to… everyone.
Was it bittersweet for him to see my face?
Did I remind him of her?
Was this awkward?
If so, he gave no indication, settling easily into the seat I offered to start his presentation. There was no doubt in my mind that he knew what he was talking about, that his ideas were top notch, but I couldn’t get over his mannerisms, his passion for the topic, and again… that face.
So much like my brother.
There was no possibility William hadn’t known.
Had he privately seethed for years, raising his former friend’s child?
Had he known the truth and simply ignored it, trying to pretend?
“Mrs. Sterling, am I boring you?” he asked, snapping me out of my private musings. “If so, I apologize. I know I’m further into the weeds than this meeting calls for. I’m just galvanized by the possibilities of what we could do withNectar.”
I shook my head. “No sir, it’s not that,” I assured him. “Your presentation is engaging, and I love everything I’ve heard, it’s just… I need to hear about your relationship with my mother.”
Momentarily, his eyes went wide.
I watched his expression cycle from surprise to a worried sort of resolve as he closed the cover on his laptop.
Clearly, that part of the meeting was over.
“Your father told you?” he asked, and…shit.
Those words were an answer, a relief, and a disappointment all in one.
“So he is my father?” I countered, waiting for that response before I gave my own.
His reply was simple.
“Yes.”
