Shayla Black - Their Virgin Secretary

Belle took the frame from his hands. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at the picture. “Oh, my god. That is her. That’s the woman they’re talking about on the news.”

Tate shrugged it off. “Looks like your grandmother had some interesting friends.”

And a whole bunch of employees who had specialized in giving dudes head. As family histories went, having a grandmother with a background in prostitution made her unique. He didn’t really see a problem with it, but it might not be something they shared with their kids.

He thought back to the picture in the living room of Marie and all those gorgeous women. Who were prostitutes. When he really thought about it, those women spread joy. They performed a service. They were almost like ambassadors for goodwill.

Belle’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god. They weren’t just neighbors or friends. This explains everything. My father wasn’t mad at my grandmother. He was embarrassed.”

“What do you mean, Belle?” Eric asked benignly.

Tate thought that was a good ploy. Make sure Belle had reached the same conclusion they had before they opened their big mouths.

She ignored them both, shaking her head as she looked at the picture. “Grandma said she sold the business to one of the girls. Obviously, that girl was Karen Ehlers. Oh, my gosh. My grandmother was a madam. She just never stated that in her letters to my dad. She always talked about irritating clients or the ones who were kind to her. My dad grew up in a brothel. Wait. Do you think she just, like, ran the place? Or…?”

Belle looked a little shocked. Tate didn’t want her upset.

“Absolutely,” he and Eric said at the same time.

Belle rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I wasn’t born yesterday. You don’t apply to be the manager of a brothel. You work your way up from the bottom, so to speak. She was a call girl. Clearly, a high-class call girl. Wow. I’m really shocked. Grandma was a bad, bad girl.”

Belle bowed her head and her shoulders shook. Tate lunged at her, certain she was crying. Damn it, he shouldn’t have said anything, just kept his big mouth shut. Belle hadn’t needed this truth about her grandmother. They couldn’t change it, and the knowledge didn’t negate the fact that Marie Wright had adored her family.

She snapped her head up. Tate saw her laughing, her gorgeous body moving with the force of her amusement. God, she looked beautiful. “My grandma was a lady of the night. Holy crap.”

Tate relaxed slightly. “Honey, it’s obvious she loved you.”

Belle met his gaze, her eyes soft. “I know she did. I’ve read her journals. She and my dad were estranged for years, but she loved him too. So very much. I think Grandma did the best she could. From what I can tell, she was an orphan herself. She got pregnant young, and my grandfather didn’t want a family. So he left her alone and pregnant and she wanted to make the best life she could for her kid. And she did. He never went hungry or homeless. In fact, he went to the best schools. I loved my dad, but he was wrong to shut her out. I guess he wanted to distance himself from his upbringing and live a reputable life.”

He pulled her close. “He wanted to do what was best for you, baby.”

She nodded. “I know. But I’ve figured out that what society demands and what my heart needs aren’t at all in synch. I finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up.”

“And what is that?” Eric asked, getting close.

“Happy. I think that might be all that matters. I’m going to marry you both because I love you and you make me happy. I hope our kids don’t react the way my dad did to my grandmother’s choices, but I really think if he’d lived, he would have forgiven her at some point.” She gave him a brilliant smile. “So that explains a whole lot. I need to take a shower before the contractors come back and kick me out of the bathroom. Can someone figure out where Kellan is? I hate the thought of him being out there all alone, especially if he’s drinking.”

Eric nodded. “I’ll find him. Tate can stay here and do the cleansing thing with you. I’ll have a nice long talk with our partner.”

Belle smiled and disappeared into the bathroom.

He held out his hand, shaking Eric’s. “I’m going to set the camera up properly with a motion detector and attach the feed to our phones. We’ll get a text when movement kicks it on. I’ll set it to start running after Belle’s ready.”

“Perfect. I’ll find Kell.”

“Do what you need to in order to get his ass home and some sense into his brain.”

If he couldn’t, Tate knew Belle would always miss Kellan. Hell, he would miss the bastard. There would be a piece of them missing if Kellan wasn’t with them. They would go on without him, but Tate thought they should at least try to talk some sense into him.

“Will do.” Eric sighed and shook his head. “But please put on some pants.”

Tate shrugged, promising nothing.

Eric stared at the bar where he’d tracked Kellan’s cell phone. He was pretty sure the cell would be attached to Kellan since he never went anywhere without it. That made him easy to find.

The bar was a seedy little place a few blocks off the Quarter. Blinking neon lights illuminated the soft evening. It wouldn’t have taken Kellan long to walk here, but he would bet every single step of the way had been hell on his friend. It had taken him away from the place—and the woman—he truly wanted. Eric had to believe that or his plan would be for nothing.

He texted Tate, letting him know he’d made it to the bar. Tate’s deep need to always know where the people he loved were was slightly stalkerish, but it had proven to be helpful on more than one occasion, so Eric vowed to stop ragging on him about it. Tate was serious about his family and their well-being, and he trusted that Eric could bring Kellan home.

God, Eric hoped he was right. Otherwise, he was fairly certain the next time they saw Kellan would be when he bought them out of the firm. Then he would be gone.

If that happened, he was pretty sure Kellan would spend the rest of his life alone. He would take a sub here and there. He might find some partners he could have a beer with from time to time, but Kellan would retreat into his hard shell and never emerge again. Eric didn’t want that for his friend.

Eric pushed through the double doors and looked around the place. It wasn’t much better on the inside. It certainly wasn’t the sort of place Kellan normally frequented. An air of weariness lingered, from the dim lighting and shuttered windows to the dark, stained carpet. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, but he finally found the man he sought.

Sighing, Eric studied his friend of more than ten years. Kellan sat at the bar, hunched over the beer in front of him as if the weight of the world pressed down on him. Kellan looked like hell for once—a tough feat for a good-looking SOB. Normally, he appeared perfectly pressed, but his suit coat was missing, as was his ever-present tie. His shirt was wrinkled, too. But it was the look in his eyes that really stopped Eric.

Kellan Kent looked absolutely fucking lost. He hadn’t looked this bad since right after his divorce. Eric winced.

Somehow, he had to make Kell see that Belle wouldn’t hurt him the way Lila had. Something he said had to reach the stubborn ass. It had to be brilliant, too. Emotionally intelligent. Shit.

“You fucked up,” was what actually came out of his mouth.

So much for emotionally intelligent. He slid onto the stool beside him, figuring he’d better try again. Sometimes he hated being the reasonable one. He wasn’t always good at it. He used to be the jock. Football players weren’t known for their dazzling communication skills.

“I know. You don’t have to tell me that.” Kellan grimaced and resumed staring glumly into his beer. “How did you find me?”

“Tate used an app to locate your phone.”

“He has to have my password for that.”

Eric just stared. “We’re talking about Tate here.”

“Fucker should have been a spy.” Kellan took a swig of his brew. “Remind me to get a new phone. Then none of you will be able to find me.”

Kell didn’t seem too drunk. He’d probably been nursing that same beer all afternoon. Eric would be happier if he’d been out getting shitfaced. It would mean his friend would be willing to give up some of his control. But that would never happen.

“No, you won’t. You would hate changing phones. At the end of the day, I think you hate change as much as Tate does.”

Kellan turned weary eyes on him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re set in your ways, my friend, and it’s going to cost you everything. I don’t think you’re really ready to sever all ties to me or Tate. You’re especially not ready to give Belle up. If you were, you’d be looking at New Orleans in your rearview mirror, not brooding in this shithole. You need to think about the future instead of being mired in the past.”

Kellan tipped back his beer again and drained some, then took a long, settling breath. “She gave me an ultimatum. I don’t take well to those.”

That was news to him. “Did she? Tate and I heard a different version. According to Belle, she explained to you that we’re getting married and you would be welcome to stay with us for as long as you like. That doesn’t sound like an ultimatum. That sounds like an open invitation. She gave you everything you wanted.”

“As long as you say it’s okay. You and Tate.” There was no way to miss the bitterness in his voice. It gave Eric hope.