Page 7 of Interview with the Billionaire

A moment later he was glad that he had, because the moment she passed the door, he recognized her.

Well, fuck.

He turned, hoping she wouldn’t notice him, then hurried back up the stairs and into the kitchen, well out of view of the first floor. Without thinking, he grabbed a cup of coffee off the small table, then took a long swallow, barely even noticing that it had gone cold.

“Damien?”

He looked up to see Nikki at the opposite entryway, still in her robe. “I came back for another cup of coffee. Why are you here? I thought you were going down to greet that reporter.”

“Gregory let her in.”

She stared at him as if he was speaking Latin. Of course, Gregory had let him in. That’s what Gregory did if he was on-site. And then it was Damien or Nikki’s role to actually greet the guest as the homeowner.

“I need to call Evelyn,” he said.

She moved closer, then put her hand on his arm, her forehead furrowed. “What’s going on?”

He only shook his head, then held up a finger. He pulled his phone out of the pocket of the suit he’d worn in anticipation of the photo shoot, then indicated that Nikki should follow him. The odds of anyone on the first floor overhearing a third-floor conversation were slim to none, but he still felt better in the bedroom with the door closed.

He put the phone on speaker and dialed Evelyn’s mobile.

“How’s my favorite son-in-law?” Not Evelyn. Frank.

“Could be better,” he admitted. “Is Evelyn around? We’ve hit a speed bump on this interview she set up.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound good. Hang on. She just stepped outside.”

As Frank put the phone down to go get Evelyn, Damien met Nikki’s eyes, and her smile just about melted him. When Frank Dunlop—originally Leonard Frank Fairchild—had come to Los Angeles with the hope of getting to know the daughter he’d abandoned as a child, Damien had been terrified that the man was going to hurt Nikki again. And considering her mother’s utter inability to be either a decent human or a good parent, the thought that Frank would break her heart, Damien still believed he’d had good reason to be worried and suspicious.

Thankfully, Frank had been sincere, and over time he’d become a true father and a solid addition to the family. His recent marriage to Evelyn was an even bigger plus, bringing the woman who already stood as Nikki’s surrogate mother truly into the family.

“Damien?” He heard the concern in Evelyn’s throaty voice as she came onto the line. “What happened?”

“Maggie Bridge.”

“I’m not following, kiddo.”

“She’s here. She’s Lena. Maggie Bridge is Magdalena Spicer.”

“Good God.”

“Yeah,” Damien said, his eyes on Nikki’s confused expression. “That pretty much sums it up. I want her out of my house. Normally, she already would be, but I know you’ve been working your ass off to pull together all the marketing and publicity for the Center. So I figured I owed you the courtesy of the call.”

“And I appreciate it. Can you give me five minutes?”

He checked the security feed on his phone, saw that Lena was settled on the sofa reviewing what looked like notes as she sipped a cup of coffee that Gregory must of served her.

“Five is fine.” Let her stew a little bit longer.

“I’ll call you right back,” she said, then ended the call.

“Okay,” Nikki said. “What’s going on? Who is that woman?”

“An ex,” Damien said, the word feeling chalky on his tongue.

Her brows rose. “I’m guessing it didn’t end well.”

“It most definitely did not.”