Probably that he was trying to bolster up his already pristine public image. Adopt a child from the projects on some kind of humanitarian whim. In the upper echelons of society, kids were like handbags. They were used as an accessory only when going out to attend public functions, and even then, only when they matched. If the Miami elite saw Logan Chase fly back home with a baby, it would only be a matter of time before the rest of them got one too. Posing the child for selfies by the pool. Pushing the child in a custom stroller along the promenade.
“Next!”
Logan moved up another place in line, eyeing the fifteen people in front of him. The hands on the clock moved at a cartoonishly palsied pace, and he was just considering his bodyguard’s fire alarm idea, when someone tugged on the sleeve of his coat. He glanced over his shoulder to see what had to be the most terrifying woman in the world staring back at him.
Neon blue eyeshadow. Hot pink lips. Bushy black eyebrows. And enough piercings to melt down into a decent-sized car. Logan took a second to collect himself before flashing a polite smile.
“Yes?”
“You’re him, aren’t you?” She didn’t mince words and didn’t bother lowering her voice as she showered him with a spray of spit. “You’re that guy.”
He pulled in a quick breath, but didn’t let his frustration show on his face. That guy. He hated it when people came up to him like that. Not caring whether he was busy. Not bothering to remember his name. He was just that guy. A celebrity spectacle used as public entertainment.
“I think you have me mixed up with someone else,” he answered quietly, wishing like hell he was still wearing the sunglasses to cover his eyes.
The woman smacked on her gun, leaning forward to get a better look. “No, you’re definitely him. From Florida, right? Heir to some kind of resort company?”
Another thing Logan despised. The fact that because he was young, people assumed he had inherited the company he had worked so hard to build. Assumed that his billion-dollar reputation for corporate excellence had to have come from his father.
“Nope,” he answered with strained patience. “Not me.”
The woman guffawed, spraying him with another wave of spit. “It totally is. I recognize your picture from one of those shows—most eligible bachelors in the world.” Without bothering to ask, she whipped out her phone, grabbed him by the sleeve, and yanked him closer to take a picture. If it weren’t for the fast-hands of his bodyguard, she might have even been successful.
“Excuse me, miss?” Jerry angled himself discreetly in between them, looking down at her with apparent concern. “Is that your red Mazda outside?”
She eyed him warily, upset to have been disturbed. “Yeah—why?”
His face tightened with false sympathy. “I’m afraid it’s getting towed.”
“What?!”
Without another word, she was off like a shot—moving with unnatural speed for a woman of her size. Ranting against ‘handicapped parking’ how it wasn’t fair that not everyone was allowed to park so close to the door.
Logan let out a breath, watching nervously as the people around him slowly lost interest and turned back around. The last thing he wanted was for a selfie of him in a Detroit adoption agency to surface on the internet. “Close one,” he amended, looking at his driver with sudden suspicion. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” Jerry replied innocently, gesturing to the counter. “Line’s moving, sir.”
Quicker than seemed possible, the line moved forward and Logan found himself standing in front of the registration counter. Face to face with quite possibly the only woman he’d ever encountered who was completely immune to his charms.
“Hi, Belinda. How’s your day going?”
She glared up at him from her perch upon the chair. Like a toad surveying a particularly dislikable fly. “Listen, pretty boy—I got no time for quips or small talk. If you have a question, then speak your peace. If you don’t—next!”
Logan glanced over his shoulder quickly as the man behind him tried to step forward, forcing him back with a defensive hand as he hurried to stake his claim. “No—wait, I have a question. It
’s about an adoption that happened twenty-five years ago through this office. Two boys, separate families. The mother’s name was Evelyn Louise Parker.”
The woman glared at him for another second, before turning that glare to her computer instead as her monitor sprang to life. The blue glow reflected off the rims of her glasses as her stubby fingers flew over the keys. A second later, they came to an abrupt stop.
“That was a closed adoption. Public records are not available. Next.”
“Wait!” Logan pushed the man back again, clinging to the counter with his other hand. “A closed adoption is only sealed as long as both biological parents are alive, right? Evelyn Parker died four days ago. The funeral was this morning.” Her eyes narrowed, as if he might be pulling her leg, and he raised his hands into the air. “Look it up if you don’t believe me.”
She didn’t look it up. She looked at him instead. Eyes flickering over the expensive watch and tailored suit, before soaking in the details of his handsome face. Several long seconds went by, before she deigned to speak again.
“Why are you so interested in this adoption, anyway? You’re too tan to be from Detroit, and Evelyn Parker didn’t exactly run in your...circle.”
Logan opened his mouth to answer, then dropped his eyes down to the floor. She’d hit the nail right on the head. Why was he so interested in this adoption? It was a question he’d been asking himself for the last four days. One he’d been unable to fully answer.