Page 81 of The Billionaire's Virgin

“You think?” I asked. “I’m going to need you to do better than that.”

“This is the kind of thing that takes time,” Frank said. “And patience. I need to do certain things legally so that it’ll stand up in court when we catch the person who’s been stalking you.”

“I know who’s stalking my family and me,” I said. “Her name is Sofia Burton.”

“We need proof of that.”

“Why not just locate her, then tail her for a few days. I’m sure—”

“What do you take me for?” Frank asked. “An amateur?”

“You’ve been following her?”

“Sure have.” Frank nodded. “Since she was your first and only suspect, I figured tailing her was my best bet. She goes shopping a lot, fancy lunches at fancy restaurants, manicures and pedicures, and charity events with New York’s bigwigs, but she hasn’t come near you or your daughter or your sister, so I’m afraid tailing her hasn’t helped me much. Except maybe bored me to—”

“What?” I interrupted.

“What?” Frank asked, stopping short of his fast-paced tangent.

“What did you just say?”

“Well, I said a lot,” he said, in confusion. “I was saying that the woman doesn’t do much with her life, apart from schmoozing and boozing and—”

“Frank,” I said firmly, trying to shut him up.

“What?”

“You mentioned something about my… sister?” I said, in confusion. “What the hell did you mean by that? I don’t have a sister.”

“Oh, right,” Frank said. “Sorry, I meant your step-sister.”

I frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked impatiently. “I don’t have any kind of sister.”

This time Frank watched me carefully through narrowed eyes that were trying to figure out what exactly was happening. It seemed to dawn on him slowly, and then he looked slightly uncomfortable.

“You don’t know,” he said softly.

“I don’t know what?” I demanded.

Frank adjusted the satchel he had brought in with him. He pulled out a file and placed it on my table. “That’s just a summary of the stuff I’ve managed to dig up so far,” he said. “I did a little digging into your background and your nanny’s background, just to help figure out who the stalker might be. I just thought you would have known… that’s why you hired her in the first place. I mean lots of people entrust their kids to family, so I thought—”

“Frank,” I said, raising my voice. “What are you on about?”

Frank pursed his lips up for a moment. “Taylor McKenzie was born to Leslie McKenzie… according to my sources, the girl never knew her father. Taylor’s parents were never married. The first time Leslie McKenzie married was when Taylor was seven. Her stepfather’s name was Brady Holloway.”

I felt my body grow cold as I as the full impact of what Frank was telling me finally hit home. “You’re saying that Taylor’s abusive stepfather…. was my abusive father?” I asked, mostly to myself.

I remembered all those conversations we had bonded over our similar pasts. We had understood each other completely, and this was a huge reason why. I couldn’t believe it. Of all the nannies in all of Manhattan, how had I managed to find the one nanny I was related to?

“So… you really didn’t know?” Frank asked.

“Does this look like the face of a man who knew?” I asked.

“You never met her before you hired her?” Frank asked.

“My mother divorced my father when I was fifteen,” I said. “I never saw him again after that. He left town and never came back, and I was fine with that. Obviously, he moved to another state, married some poor unsuspecting woman, and wreaked havoc on her life too—”

“What?”