Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

“Please, let’s keep that between us. I’m not sure we’ll like the consequences if Mom hears you.” It feels good to smile.

Dad snorts, placing his glass onto the corner table before taking off the silk cravat from his neck. “I’m thankful it was Kristy who came looking for me. If I had to chase after her, I’d have probably messed it up somehow.”

“Nonsense, you would have been just fine. Remember, I was on your team. I did my best to charm Mom whenever I could.” I walk around the room, looking at the several pictures hung on the wall. Dad with his gang, the first Teager brothers, popping a champagne bottle after Elixir won a big deal. Mom and her gal pals, who are basically Teager women, at a girls-only trip to Egypt. My dad, much younger in this one with his sisters, Aunt Clementine and Aunt Florence.

I’ve never seen a businessman like my dad. He should be teaching a course on how to place family above everything and still be on top at your work.

“You certainly did that,” he says, throwing his head back in laughter. “Those were easier days, huh?”

“Definitely.” I breathe freely for the first time since dinner, the anxiety momentarily fading away.

“But I’d still like to tell you two things, if it’s okay?”

I turn around and give a nod, my curiosity piqued. He’s always been the kind of father who allows us to navigate our own paths, only stepping in with assistance when he deems it’s truly going to make a difference.

“Number one, your first personal responsibility is to yourself, Ace. You can’t help anyone unless you are happy with your own life. Until you decide what you want to do at every step, people will decide for you. But as soon as you take a stand, everyone will have to accept and live with it. Never let go of your control over your life.”

“And what’s the second?” I ask, because I feel I’m already failing at the first one.

“Never marry the wrong person or for the wrong reason. It’s not just about what you do to each other, but also what you do to yourself. A toxic relationship brings out the worst version of yourself, and a good relationship allows you to grow. I understand there’s immense pressure on you, but the Hawthorne name isn’t bigger for us than you and your happiness.”

As I hit the treadmill in my home gym the next morning, I flip on the TV. The business news segment wraps up after twenty minutes just as I finish my last lap. The credits roll in and Cherrywood’s town center fills the screen, festively decorated for the upcoming holidays.

A surprised smile tugs at my lips. Our small town on the news should be some sort of lucky omen for the day.

After stepping off the treadmill, I grab a towel from the rack and wipe the sweat from my neck and shoulders. As I reach for my water bottle, a gravelly voice saying my name on the TV catches me off guard. The news reporter, clad in a cheap charcoal suit, grins for the camera.

“Is Charles Hawthorne finally sharing his love life? We’ve just received word that Mr. Hawthorne is about to give an exclusive interview to a select news network. Unfortunately, we’re not part of that exclusive group, but we won’t let that stop us from digging into what he might reveal,” the reporter announces with a sly grin.

What the fuck?

I quickly crank up the volume as the reporter continues his stroll through the streets, eventually pausing outside none other than my most cherished spot in town, Hawthorne Bakery.

“I’ll be speaking with some locals to see if we can uncover any hints about what Charles Hawthorne has up his sleeve.”

This man’s fucking nerve! He’s chosen to set up camp right outside GG’s beloved bakery.

The towel that was draped around my neck just moments ago is now balled up tightly in my fist.

I reach for my phone, ready to dial security, but before I can, the reporter accosts a man in his sixties who’s emerging from the bakery flanked by two kids on either side of him.

“Hello, sir, I’m from Channel Nine. Would you be willing to answer a few questions for our viewers?”

The man seems uncertain, glancing behind him before offering a hesitant smile. “Sure.”

After the usual pleasantries, the reporter gets to the point. “Have you heard about Charles Hawthorne’s exclusive interview?”

The man’s smile immediately fades, and he shifts uncomfortably. But the reporter presses on, determined to get answers and aggravate me in the process.

“It could just be hearsay,” the old man finally mumbles.

“No. It’s absolutely confirmed news. What do you think Charles is announcing? He’s kept the media at arm’s length for so long. But now, an exclusive. A day with Charles Hawthorne—raw, personal, honest. There has to be big news that he’s ready to finally share. Don’t you agree?” The reporter’s free hand flails around.

“I…I don’t know. Maybe,” the man stammers.

“My bet is Charles is announcing his engagement or introducing us to the lovely woman he’s kept hidden from the media all these years. With him taking over the Hawthorne business soon, it has to be it. The media’s going wild,” the reporter speculates, feeding off the excitement.

The man’s nod is hesitant, a blend of agreement and uncertainty.