Susan Meier

The Tycoon's Secret Daughter


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he was here, and he saw Trisha.”

      Kate grabbed a paper cup from her dad’s tray table and handed it to Trisha. “Would you throw this away in the bathroom trash can and then wash your hands?”

      Trisha nodded eagerly like the well-behaved almost-seven-year-old that she was. When she was gone, Kate said, “I have about thirty seconds. So just let me say Max found me. Trisha came out of the elevator when we were talking. He took one look at her and knew.”

      Her mom pressed her hand to her chest. “I knew you shouldn’t have come home!”

      “I wasn’t about to desert the two of you when Daddy was so sick.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Mom, Max is sober.”

      Bev took a second to process that, then snorted in disgust. “And you’re feeling guilty?” She snorted again. “The man had become violent and was getting worse by the day. You had no choice but to protect your child.”

      “But I could have checked on him—”

      “You have no idea when he got sober. For all you know, he just went to his first AA meeting last week. This isn’t the time to be second-guessing.”

      Kate heaved out a sigh. “Okay, but I know Max was angry. If I don’t go talk to him, he’ll probably come to the house tonight. Or I’ll be hit with some kind of legal papers tomorrow. Or maybe both.”

      Walking out of the bathroom, sweet, trusting, Trish smiled. Kate’s heart sank. If he came to the house, they’d have to have their talk in front of Trisha. And she didn’t want Trisha to hear her dad was a drunk. Especially when she was too young to understand.

      “You know what? I think I’d better deal with this now.” She faced her mom. “Will you guys be okay for an hour or so without me?”

      Her eyes filled with worry, Bev said, “Sure.”

      Kate sucked in a breath and turned to her daughter. “You behave for Grandma.”

      Trisha nodded and Kate left her dad’s hospital room. She got into her car and drove to downtown Pine Ward. The small city was old and working to revive itself after the loss of the steel mills in the 1990s. Buildings from the 1940s were being renovated. Trees had been planted along the sidewalk on Main Street. A few new restaurants had even popped up.

      She left her car in a parking garage and headed out. A couple of blocks and two turns took her off the beaten path to the place in the city where the newer, more modern structures stood. She stopped in front of the yellow brick building housing Montgomery Real Estate and Development. Only four stories, it nonetheless had an air of wealth and power. Quiet. Dignified. Understated.

      She hesitated. Though Max had been reasonably calm at the hospital, she knew he was angry with her. He had to be. If the tables were turned, she’d be furious with him. So his anger was justified. And she had to admit that.

      Maybe it would be better to give him a day or two to get past that? To get his bearings?

      Blowing her breath out on a long sigh, she told herself no. If she didn’t meet with him on her terms, they’d meet on his. He’d either come to the house and they’d fight in front of Trisha, or they’d meet in a room filled with lawyers. And she’d really lose because he could afford much better lawyers than she could. If at all possible, she had to settle this without lawyers.

      She walked through the glass double doors into paradise. Glancing around the remodeled lobby, she took in vaulted ceilings that soared to the roof. Sunshine poured in through huge skylights and fed the potted trees that sat on each side of the two white sofas in the reception area. A polished yellow-wood reception desk sat in the center of everything.

      The Montgomerys had been wealthy when she’d been married to Max, and she knew their business had grown. But actually seeing the results of that growth was a staggering reminder of the different stations in the lives of the Montgomerys and the Hunters.

      Fear shivered through her. She’d kept wealthy Max Montgomery’s daughter away from him for seven years—nearly eight if she counted the pregnancy. Though she’d almost called him a hundred times over the years to tell him about Trisha, to give him a chance to be part of her life, every time she’d picked up the phone she remembered that night. The smashed television. The shattered glasses from the bar shelf. The broken front window. And she’d been afraid. Not just for herself, but for their daughter. He’d made her afraid. Why should she be the one cowering now, when he’d given her no choice but to leave?

      She straightened her shoulders. She would not cower. She would not back down. He’d made this bed. And she would remind him of that. Maybe even ask him if he’d like those details coming out in court if he argued with her over custody or visitation.

      Dark brown travertine tile led to the reception desk. The pretty twenty-something redhead manning the station greeted her with a smile. “Can I help you?”

      “Yes. I’d like to see Mr. Montgomery.”

      She glanced down at a small computer screen. “Do you have an appointment?”

      “No. But if you’ll tell him Kate Hunter Montgomery is here, I’m sure he’ll see me.”

      The young woman glanced over at Kate with raised eyebrows. Kate stood perfectly still under her scrutiny, knowing exactly what the receptionist saw. A small woman with big green eyes and hair just a little bit too thick to tame. Not exactly the woman everyone would expect to be married to a mogul—a ridiculously handsome one at that. With his black hair, blue eyes and tall, lean body, Max had always been a magnet for women. Beautiful women. And he’d chosen her.

      It sometimes still puzzled her. Other times it made her realize that having your wishes come true might be the worst thing that could happen.

      The receptionist pressed two buttons on her phone, then turned away.

      Kate heard only muffled words. Her name. Her description.

      Then a wait.

      She’d probably called Max’s secretary, who had taken the information to Max.

      Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds.

      Her face grew warm, her hands clammy. Surely he wasn’t so angry that he’d refuse to see her?

      Memories of being married to a wealthy man came flooding back. His job was important. His place in the community was even more important. Fundraisers. Ribbon-cuttings. Balls. Parties.

      Always worried she’d say or do the wrong thing.

      Never feeling good enough.

      Righteous indignation surged in her blood. She was the star project manager at her job in Tennessee. She raised a daughter on her own. If she went to a fundraiser, she contributed. If she went to a ribbon-cutting it was for a building she’d helped build.

      Good enough?

      Hell, yeah. She was good enough. And if Max thought he and his money were going to push her around, he was sadly mistaken.

      The receptionist faced her. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Montgomery. You may go up.”

      “Actually, it’s Ms. Hunter now.”

      The receptionist nodded in acknowledgment. “Take the third elevator in the back of that hall.” She pointed to the left. “By the time you get there, a security guard will be there to punch in the code.”

      She walked to the last elevator with her head high. The security guard said, “Good morning, Ms. Hunter.” Proof the receptionist was very good at her job. Punching a few numbers into a keypad, he opened the elevator, motioned her inside and stepped back as the doors closed.

      The ride to the fourth floor took seconds. The door swooshed open. More potted trees accented a low, ultra-modern green sofa and chair. A green print rug sat on the yellow hardwood floor.

      Sitting at the desk in front of a wall of windows, Max looked up.

      Catching him off