The Billionaire's Fair Lady. Barbara Wallace

her father?”

      “What about him?”

      He’d hit a sore spot. He could feel her stiffen. “Is he still in the picture?”

      “No.”

      Interesting. “Any chance he’ll pop back in?”

      “No.”

      “You sure?” Wouldn’t be the first time an ex reappeared at the scent of a payday. From his point of view, the fewer complications the better.

      “He’s not in our lives,” she repeated, her voice a little terse.

      Her clenched jaw said there was more to the story. “Because he’s not…?” He left the end of his sentence hoping she’d fill in the blank.

      “Because he’s not,” she repeated. “Why are you asking anyway? I thought this case was about my paternity.”

      “It’s my job to know as many details as possible about my clients.”

      “Even things that aren’t your business?

      “Everything about you is my business.”

      “I don’t think so,” she scoffed.

      This was the second time tonight she’d tried to dictate what he could and couldn’t discuss. Time he explained how this relationship would work. Yanking the steering wheel, he cut off the car in the next lane and pulled to the curb. “Let’s get a few things straight right now. You came to me asking for help. I can’t do that without your cooperation. Your. Full. Cooperation. That means if I need to know what you had for dinner last Saturday night, you need to tell me. Do you understand? Because if you can’t, then this—” he waved his hand in the space between them “—isn’t going to work.

      “Are we clear?” he asked, looking her in the eye. Although the lecture was necessary, she could very well tell him to go to blazes. He held his breath, hoping he hadn’t pushed her—and his luck—too far.

      From her seat, she glared, her eyes bright in the flash of passing headlights. “Crystal.”

      “Good. Now I suggest you learn to deal with tough questions, because we’ve only scratched the surface.” They were definitely revisiting her daughter’s paternity, too. There was way too much emotion behind her reaction.

      They drove the rest of the distance in silence, eventually pulling up in front of a nondescript building, on a street lined with them. Tall towers with squares of light, the kind of buildings his architect brother would call void of personality. At this hour of night, with the green landscaping unlit, Mike thought they had an eerie futuristic quality.

      He stole a look at his companion. She hadn’t moved since his lecture, her face locked on the view outside the windshield. With the shadows hiding her makeup and her hair tumbling down her back, he was surprised how classical her profile looked. Reminding him of one of those Greek busts in a museum, strong and delicate at the same time. If, that is, the pieces in the museum were gritting their teeth.

      Her fingers were already wrapped around the door handle. “Want to wait till I come to a full stop or will slowing down to a crawl be good enough?” he asked her.

      “Either will be fine.” Her voice was tight to match her jaw. Still upset over his lecture. He added the discussion to his mental revisit list. Thing was getting pretty long. “I’ll stop at the front walkway if you don’t mind. Road burn never looks good on a client.”

      Without so much as cracking a smile, she pointed to the crosswalk a few feet ahead. “Here is fine. I’ll walk the rest of the way.” She pushed open the door the moment the wheels stopped spinning. Eager to get away.

      “Roxanne!” Call it guilt or anxiety over his harshness earlier, but he needed to call her back and make sure they were truly on the same page. “Do we understand each other?”

      “We do.” From her resignation, however, she wasn’t happy about it. Never mind, she’d be happy enough with him when they settled her case.

      “You still want to proceed then?” he double-checked.

      She nodded, again with resignation. “I do.”

      “I have an opening at nine-thirty tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

      Resignation quickly switched to surprise. “You want to meet tomorrow?”

      “Unless you’d rather meet tonight. We have a lot to go over, and you’re my only source of information. Sooner we get started, the better.”

      Seeing her widening eyes, he added, “Is that a problem?”

      “No,” she replied. “No problem.”

      There was, but to her credit, she seemed resolved to solving whatever it was. “I’ll see you at nine-thirty.”

      “Sharp,” he added. As if he had anything better to do. “Oh, and Roxanne? You might as well get used to spending time with me. In fact, you could say I’m about to become your new best friend.”

      “Great.” Thrilled, she was not; he could tell by the smirk.

      Surprisingly, however, he found the annoyance almost amusing. There was mettle underneath her attitude that would come in handy. Smiling, he watched her walk away, waiting till she disappeared behind the frosted front door before shifting his car into Drive. For the first time in weeks, he looked forward to a new workday. Roxanne O’Brien didn’t know it yet, but she’d just become his newest and biggest priority.

      He had a feeling both their futures would be better for it.