The Billionaire Bad Boys Club(97)
“Your mother trespassed in our offices,” he said, not inclined to mince words. “The last I saw her, our security guards were escorting her back to her hotel. She’s since checked out, and I don’t know her current whereabouts. If it would set your mind at ease, I can ask a private detective to track her down. Naturally, you can hire one yourself, if you prefer.”
Zane’s friend-slash-PI was already working on locating Constance Sharp, but Benjamin Sharp didn’t need to know that. Zane figured the son’s answer would tell him something about what he was dealing with. Somewhat to his surprise, the son said he’d be grateful for whatever Zane’s PI could find out. He hung up soon after, leaving Zane hardly more enlightened than before. He didn’t know what to make of the brother and sister coming to Boston a few days later to speak face to face. Zane’s detective had looked into their backgrounds but discovered no red flags: no arrest records, no money troubles, nothing to indicate this was a scheme. To all appearances, they were simply worried about their mother.
He arranged the meet for Sunday morning in the BBC Imperial Hotel lobby. Neither sibling objected to the discussion being on Zane’s home turf.
He told Trey he had a breakfast appointment he couldn’t reschedule. He wasn’t sure Trey believed him, but since Rebecca was out as well he didn’t do more than sigh.
“It isn’t Monday yet,” Trey reminded him.
This was true, but Zane wasn’t convinced they’d make any more progress toward a committed relationship. Rebecca seemed to care about them. She trusted them when it came to sex. She admitted she was more relaxed than she’d ever been, and Trey and Zane could see they were good for her. Those accomplishments notwithstanding, every time they brought up the future, she became evasive.
Is it me? he wondered as he parked the Mercedes in his slot at the hotel’s garage. Was Rebecca hesitating because he wasn’t a hundred percent at ease with their threesome? Didn’t she realize the distance he’d come? Surely he wasn’t expected to get over all his uptightness in a week. He loved how the three of them were together. He wanted it to continue. That had to be obvious.
He grimaced and took the stairs to the lobby level, hoping to smooth out his nervous energy. Second-guessing himself was counterproductive, as was splitting his focus. For Trey’s sake, he needed to be on his game.
Though not huge, the Imperial’s lobby displayed the same attention to detail and quality as all TBBC’s businesses. The flowers were fresh, the dark marble floors gleaming. The furnishings were upscale but comfortable. Zane strode across a gorgeous antique carpet to the main sitting area. As he did, a man and a woman rose from an upholstered couch.
They appeared to be in their fifties and were well dressed but not showy. Before she was widowed, Constance Sharp had married the founder of a small chain of convenience stores. The son and daughter ran the business now. Their understated self-presentation suggested they wished to be taken for children of older money than they were. In his experience, 7-Eleven owners didn’t go for strings of pearls and expensive beige twin sets.
“Mr. Alexander?” said the son. “I’m Benjamin Sharp, and this is my sister, Antonia. Thank you for seeing us. We’re sorry to shove in on you this way.”
An apology at the get-go was interesting. So was the deference Benjamin Sharp was showing a younger man. Zane nodded at him and his sister.
“I’ve reserved a conference room for us to talk in,” he said. “Why don’t you follow me?”
“Your hotel is very nice,” the sister said nervously behind him.
More deference, he thought. And maybe a hint of fawning. He thanked her and held the door for them.
The conference room was a miniature of the lobby, down to the fresh-cut flowers on the side table. The siblings sat on the sofa he indicated, while he sank into an armchair. He leaned back, and they leaned forward on the seat cushions, their body language that of people hoping to please.
“You must think we’re very forward,” Antonia said, smoothing her skirt over tight-pressed knees. “We wanted to make sure you knew we had no idea Mother planned anything like this.”
“You knew something,” Zane said calmly. “Or you wouldn’t have thought to call Trey Hayworth after your mother disappeared.”
“Oh. Well. That was—” Flustered, Antonia touched her professionally waved short hair. “He’s her latest little fixation. Mother’s always been a bit . . . unpredictable.”
“She’s always been a nut,” her brother put in gruffly. “We’ve got her in one of those retirement communities. You know, where old folks live in their own houses, but get assistance if they need it. I’m not convinced it’s enough oversight.”