Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 20030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
The ride back to Sullivan Tower passed in a blur of downtown traffic and the low hum of his driver's radio. As soon as he was back in his office, he tried throwing himself back into work with the kind of desperate focus he hadn't needed since his early days building his empire.
But it was no use.
Just looking at his damn desk reminded him of the first time he made her come, and every document he tried to read only reminded him of Star's breathless voice as she read the terms of her company's proposal. With every signature he scrawled on a piece of paper, all he could remember was the pain that had emanated from her whole being...upon realizing her existence was deliberately being shunned.
By the time office hours ended, everyone working on his floor was jostling to reach the elevator and escape his wrath. Wynd had snapped at his assistant twice, glared at his CFO into stammering submission, and generally made himself the kind of boss people warned each other about in hushed whispers by the coffee machine.
Prior commitments obliged him to attend another fundraiser gala that evening, and it was only when he arrived at the opulent ballroom that Wynd remembered too late that Hope Rises was one of the evening's beneficiaries.
The ballroom glittered under crystal chandeliers, filled with San Antonio's elite in their finest evening wear. Round tables draped in crisp white linens dotted the space, each centerpiece a tasteful arrangement of white roses, orchids, and baby's breath. A small orchestra played softly from one corner while servers in black uniforms moved between guests with silver trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres.
It was the same old scene, but what caught Wynd off guard and had him inhaling sharply was the exhibit along the far wall.
Enlarged photographs of Hope Rises lined the space between the ballroom's tall windows, and his chest tightened as his gaze zeroed in on one of the photos in the center of the display.
It was the playroom where he had first seen Samuel with his dark head bent over his children's Bible.
The same playroom where he had first noticed Star.
This was where everything started...but it was all fucking gone now.
When he'd first seen Samuel, he'd recognized himself in the boy. Quiet and self-contained, creating walls of independence because depending on others only led to disappointment. But deep inside, Samuel was likely yearning to have someone to rely on, just like Wynd had when his parents died one after another in the span of five brutal months.
He didn't know whether it was right or wrong, but in Samuel, he'd seen a chance to rewrite the past. Make sure that at least one boy in this world wouldn't end up like him.
But when Star came along...
One look at her, and Wynd had known she was different from everyone else. Not just because of her sunshine-bright dress or those gold hoops that caught the light when she moved.
There were just so many other things.
Things that no other woman had or could do, such as the way she had looked at Samuel...and him.
For almost his entire life, the idea of love had filled Wynd with bitterness and contempt. He'd seen it as nothing but pretense used by weak people like his parents, a pretty lie that fell apart the moment money dried up and circumstances drastically changed.
Love, even if it was real, wasn't what he wanted.
Love only killed.
And that was why, when he'd realized it was what was making his heart pound every time he looked at Star...
"Mr. Sullivan, good evening."
The familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Wynd turned to find Brenda Chopin approaching with her trademark warm smile.
The director of Hope Rises looked elegant in a navy dress that probably came from her own modest salary rather than a designer boutique, but she carried herself with the quiet dignity of someone who'd devoted her life to caring for children who had nowhere else to go.
Wynd schooled his features into a courteous smile as he inclined his head in greeting. "Mrs. Chopin, good evening."
"It's good to see you again. I wish I could stay and chat longer, but I'm needed back at the orphanage."
"I hope nothing's wrong?"
"I'm hoping it's the opposite, actually," Brenda confided. "We have a prospective parent coming in tonight. She's right at the top of our approved list, same as you. But I'm really hoping she'll tell me she's found herself a relationship since we last spoke." She sighed, adjusting the simple gold cross at her throat. "We rarely approve applications from single-parent households, no matter how qualified they are. Children need stability, and that's so much easier to provide with two parents."
The evening continued around him in a haze of polite conversation and orchestrated generosity. Dinner was served, but he couldn't remember what he ate or how it tasted. People started giving speeches, but he heard not a single word. Checks were signed and submitted, and although Wynd donated a large sum himself—