Who could it be?
Someone powerful.
Someone her father trusted.
Someone willing to marry her… despite the family mess, despite her refusal to give up her shares.
She paced the length of her room, her bathrobe from last night still hanging off the doorknob like a forgotten ghost. Her heart pounded with every theory, every memory she could dig up.
Was it a family friend?
An old business partner?
A son of one of her father's golf buddies?
No. She shook her head. Her father wouldn't entrust her to someone weak or unknown. If he had hand picked this man, then this man had leverage. Power. Something to gain from marrying her. Or worse… something to control.
Her phone buzzed.
It was Emma.
"Are you okay? Want me to come pick you up?"
Jean stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.
She typed. Erased. Typed again.
"Not yet. My family is planning something. They found another guy for me. I need to find out who it is first."
She hit send.
