Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

“It’s…my dad.” I blink rapidly to dispel the burning behind my eyes. Apart from Aunt Mel and Uncle Frank, I haven’t talked to anyone about the severity of Dad’s condition. My friends know he’s sick, but I’ve yet to tell them how badly.

Charles leads me back to the sitting area, and this time I go willingly. He guides me to the couch and settles down beside me.

“Tell me everything, okay?”

At hearing his featherlight, soft voice laced with concern, my tears threaten to make a reappearance.

I don’t know why I choose to share this with him before my friends. Maybe I’m just tired this morning after calling all the hospitals and still being nowhere near a solution. Maybe seeing Charles struggling with his problems, I feel more comfortable in acknowledging my own.

“My dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a few months back. I thought I’d have a little more time to figure everything out, but he’s already struggling, putting himself in life-threatening situations.”

Finally, I look up at Charles as he leans forward, listening to me with rapt attention. His expressionless, stoic face is one I’ve known throughout the years while working with him, unlike the new, foreign side of his personality that’s making my heart race a mile a minute. Right now, I can’t even imagine that he’s the same man who locked me inside this room, grinned, and made a crazy marriage proposition a few minutes ago.

“Yesterday, we couldn’t find him. That’s why I was late for your interview.”

“Why didn’t you call me, Dave, or Steve for help?” His voice maintains a calm cadence, which is both admirable and exasperating.

Do businessmen get some kind of special training on hiding their thoughts and emotions? If they did, I’m sure my boss was top of the class in the subject.

“My aunt’s husband and his friends managed to find Dad at the cemetery, but he doesn’t remember why he was there. He, of course, went to see Mom, but he left without a jacket and with the gas stove on.” I clutch the edges of my skirt as fear gnaws at my insides like a relentless predator stalking its prey, consuming every ounce of courage and leaving behind a hollow emptiness. “I cannot leave him unattended. He’s struggling to remember basic things. I need to find him a full-time caretaker, but everything is so freaking expensive.”

My gaze drops with humiliation. What kind of child can’t bear the expense of their parent’s medical bills?

“Here.”

I glance up to find Charles no longer perched on the couch but standing before me. He bends down and slides a check across the table.

“You should have told me about it sooner.”

When I make no move to grab the check, he arches an eyebrow.

“So you’re not going to accept my help?” he asks.

“I haven’t decided if I’ll accept your proposition,” I murmur. Everything I need to take care of Dad is right here. I just have to give up a few years of my life, and that’s all.

“Fuck the proposition. Do you really think I’d ask you to marry me in exchange for helping your dad? I’m not that much of an asshole.”

I sit in stunned silence because, deep in my heart, I knew Charles would never add a condition if I ever asked him for help. I continue to stare at the zeroes on the paper. “This is too much.”

“If it eases your mind, use what you need and return the rest,” he says calmly, setting aside his own problems in light of mine.

When I remain frozen, Charles takes my hand and places the check in my palm. I don’t think his fingers on my wrist miss my thundering pulse. The soft paper feels too heavy in my hands.

Are all my worries gone with a stroke of his signature?

“Your dad is with Cherrywood Memorial Hospital?”

When I confirm that, he gives me an inscrutable nod before pressing a discreet button under the table that I’ve never seen before, and the door clicks open.

“I’m sorry I did that.” An embarrassed smile finally graces his lips. “This was installed for security reasons. In case I’d need to protect myself from something dangerous outside. I never thought it would come in handy for capturing something special inside.”

Special?

If this is a dream, I want to stay in it for a little while longer. My problems with Dad’s care might be gone, and Charles just called me special.

I return to my seat, unable to do anything but stare at the slip of paper with Charles’ elegant signature sitting at my desk. I’ve been worried about Dad for so many weeks, and now, with a flick of his pen, Charles solved everything. I don’t even know how much time has passed when the ringing of my phone interrupts my thoughts and I almost jump in my seat.

“How’s my favorite girl?” The familiar voice calms my anxious insides.