5

ALEXANDRA

Joe’s eyes narrow in my direction. “What do you mean there’s more to the story? What other secrets are you trying to hide?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, but it’s obvious by his no-nonsense look that he doesn’t believe me.

Deciding I’d better explain before he walks out of here and leaves me high and dry, I add, “When my grandfather found out about the leak of the story, he was upset, but not nearly as distraught as I would have expected him to be at finding out his oldest son isn’t his.”

“Okay…” Joe says, obviously thinking that this proves nothing.

Rushing on, I explain, “My grandfather is a very proud man. The news that he isn’t my father’s biological parent should have rocked him to his core, but it didn’t.”

“Which implies that he was already aware of that fact,” Joe surmises.

“Exactly,” I agree, nodding my head. “After he poured over the stories, he kept saying how lucky we were and that it could have been so much worse. This leads me to believe that you didn’t find everything.”

“So, you want me to dig and find out the rest?” he asks, sounding confused.

“Of course. Who would be better at that than you?”

“No one,” he responds without a trace of humility.

“Right, no one,” I answer, but his face is still twisted with confusion.

“But you don’t want these secrets to come out, right? So, why have me go digging for them?”

“Your original leak about my father’s paternity has created a massive amount of interest in our family,” I start.

“You guys are always in the news in the greater Atlanta area,” he says.

“Yes, but we have practically been their sole focus since this story leaked. Now, there are all kinds of reporters and likely other computer hackers and data miners looking for more information on us to write an article with a new angle. If one of them stumbles upon whatever other secrets my grandfather is hiding, it could be catastrophic,” I explain.

“Indeed,” he agrees, before his expression turns curious again. “So, why do you want me to go looking for these secrets?”

“Because you’ll probably be the first one to find them.” At his cocky nod, I add, “And this time, I’m going to be the highest bidder. You’ll sell the information you find to me, and make sure no one else ever finds it.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his ankles. “How do you know I won’t sell any information I discover out from under you?”

“You’re going to sign a contract to work for me exclusively that includes a binding non-disclosure agreement, and I’m going to pay you handsomely.”

“How handsomely?” he asks with dollar signs practically dancing in his eyes.

Brinkley has chosen this moment to slip back into the room. Patting Joe’s shoulder, he says, “As handsome-ly as you are, not-so-average Joe.”

“That’s not the right usage of that word,” I tell him, rolling my eyes at his overt flirtation.

“It works fine,” he says before looking to Joe for confirmation. “Right?”

“Uh, sure. As long as I’m getting paid big money, it works for me,” Joe answers.

“Huge,” Brinkley breathes out the word.

I glare between the men.

Instantly picking up on my annoyance, Brinkley shifts into efficient assistant mode and says, “I’ll have those contracts drawn up.”

With that, he hurries out of the room.

Giving me a knowing smile, Joe says, “He’s a character.”

“Sometimes he’s almost too much,” I mumble. Softening, I add, “But he is amazing at his job, and he has a knack for knowing exactly what I need and when I need it.”

“Which makes him irreplaceable,” Joe guesses.

“Exactly,” I agree, liking it that he gets it.

Shifting topics, Joe says, “Before I get to work on saving your family’s deep, dark secrets, I’d like to know just how big of a payday this is going to be.”

Of course, everything always comes down to money.

Deciding to make his day, I say, “If you’re able to pull this off, I’ll make sure you never again have to worry about your bike repair shop going under.”

Giving me a wide smile, he says, “In that case, I’m all yours.”

The response intrudes unwanted in my mind, but thankfully I’m able to stop myself from voicing it aloud. If only…