Free I Married a Billionaire: The Prodigal Son (Contemporary Romance) by Melanie Marchande Page B

news. It was strange; I knew galleries closed all the time, I had been noticing that not much had been selling at Starra lately. But it had never occurred to me that one day, it might just be…gone.
    He was right, too, about the money just being a temporary solution. It was fruitless to keep a gallery open if no one was going to come.
    Daniel was wandering back into the room.
    “You look pensive,” he said. “You weren’t reading about birth defects again, were you?”
    I shook my head. “Starra Gallery is closing.”
    “That’s a shame.” He fiddled with his ring. “Anything we can do?”
    “Not really. It’s just dying a natural death.” I spun around, slowly, on my stool. “You know, like these things do.”
    He sat down next to me, looking like he was on the verge of saying something, but couldn’t quite force it out.
    “Go on,” I said. “What’s on your mind?”
    He took a deep breath, and let it out.
    “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “About the whole…” he hesitated, chewed on his lip for a moment, and then began again. “Are you going to tell your parents?”
    “Of course I’m going to tell my parents. Just, you know. Later on.” I cleared my throat. “Twelve weeks. Same as everybody else.”
    His face told me he was assuming I’d put it off. And God damn it, he was right. I didn’t want to. I really, really didn’t want to.
    “I just think our kid should have grandparents,” he said. “Even if they’re not perfect.”
    “You know,” I said, looking at him. “My parents aren’t the only ones in the equation anymore.”
    He stood up and walked away.

    ***
    “You know, it’s not that I don’t like my father.”
    I opened my eyes. In the pitch blackness of the bedroom - Daniel Thorne, prima donna extraordinaire, could simply not sleep with a nightlight on - I could hardly see him. But I was pretty sure he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.
    “Okay,” I said, making an effort to switch my half-asleep brain back on.
    “Assuming for a moment that he is my father,” Daniel added. “Which by the way - for the record - I still think is highly, highly unlikely.”
    “Yeah, I gathered that.” I rolled over to face him, as if it mattered.
    “I know you’re just thinking, what’s the harm? Why not try to meet him? Why not just give it a whirl, for the hell of it? Either way, it’s going to be an incredible story to tell at parties.”
    “Well,” I said. “That would be a nice side effect.”
    “The thing is, Maddy, the thing is…” There was a moment’s hesitation. “He’s toxic. And he doesn’t mean to be. He never means to be. I’m not saying, god, I’m glad he’s dead. I’m glad he’s out of my life. But when I think about the possibility of interacting with him again…”
    “I understand,” I said. “Believe me, I do.”
    “He doesn’t lash out. He just slowly…slowly, slowly seeps into everything you have and ruins it with his opinions and insinuations and father-knows-best. He’s a leech. An energy vampire. Whatever you want to call those people who just suck the life out of you.”
    I giggled. “ Energy vampire?”
    “It’s the middle of the night. Cut me some slack.”
    “You’re the one who started talking,” I said, reasonably.
    He sighed, into the darkness.
    “This whole situation is insane,” he said. I could hear a wry smile in his voice. “You know, my life made a lot more sense before I met you.”
    I shook my head. “Look, okay, I know it’s weird, but I have all the confidence in the world that you’ll figure out how to handle it. You always do. You’re much better with people than you think you are.”
    “Yes, of course,” he said. “That’s why I got written up as ‘the notably anti-social Daniel Thorne.’” He was referring to a tabloid article from ages ago, which he clearly hadn’t forgotten.
    “I’m pretty sure that’s a misquote,” I said.
    “Well, the sentiment was the same. Regardless,