The Tycoon's Baby Revelation (The Abbot Sisters Book 1) Read online

  The Tycoon’s Baby

  Revelation

  By Elizabeth Lennox

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  Copyright 2020

  ISBN13: 9781950451227

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Any duplication of this material, either electronic or any other format, either currently in use or a future invention, is strictly prohibited, unless you have the direct consent of the author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Pregnant with the Sheik’s Heir

  Chapter 1

  Sloane stepped out of the beat up Chevy hatchback, nervously tugging her skirt down over her hips and taking a deep breath. “This is it,” she whispered, looking up at the non-descript building.

  It wasn’t much to look at. Just a two story structure surrounded by a bunch of other two story buildings. “Is this the right place?” she muttered through numb lips. Pulling up the e-mail on her phone, she checked the address, then looked at the building again. Yep. This was the right address.

  She walked carefully in the borrowed black heels, hoping that she wouldn’t fall on her face and land in a humiliating heap on the simmering hot asphalt. She’d never worn heels before. Sneakers had been the shoes of choice while working at the fast food restaurant where Sloane had been employed for the past four months.

  Glancing down at her skirt, she smoothed out the wrinkles, hoping it didn’t look too shabby. Sloane’s youngest sister, Pepper, had miraculously presented this outfit to her this morning, her eyes shimmering with anxious pride. “I got the skirt and blouse out of the donation box at the shelter a few days ago,” Pepper had explained with a hopeful expression in her eyes. Eyes that were too old and wary for a fourteen year old. “It’s good material, although the style is dated.” She’d smoothed her hand down over the tan material. “I was able to adjust the size so that the skirt would fit you better and so that it didn’t look so…worn out.”

  Rayne, the middle sister of their trio, had handed her the black pumps. “Martha gave me these,” she told Sloane. “She needs them back though. But we’ve all got our fingers crossed for your job interview today.”

  Sloane swallowed past the lump of emotion in her throat, so damned proud of her sisters she could barely stand it. Sure, the three of them were homeless at the moment, sleeping at a shelter each night and eating their meals in the buffet line that the church across the street cooked for the residents. But they’d all been working hard, saving every penny and finding odd jobs so that they’d have a few extra dollars. Between the three of them, they’d almost scraped up enough money to rent a studio apartment. They wouldn’t have furniture, not for a while, but it would be really great to not have to sleep with one eye open every night, fearful of the other shelter guests stealing their stuff or…or worse.

  Standing here now, in the altered suit and borrowed shoes, Sloane lifted her chin with determination. “I can do this!” she whispered fervently. “I can!”

  Applying for this administrative assistant’s position had been a long shot, but Sloane had decided that she had nothing to lose by trying. Working at a fast food place just wasn’t bringing in enough money to protect her sisters and things were scary at the homeless shelter. The three of them stuck together for security, but…it was still dangerous.

  Taking a deep breath, Sloane pulled open the door and, with as much feigned confidence as she could muster, stepped into the blank-looking building and…froze.

  There wasn’t much in the building. No offices, no walls, no desks, or…well, nothing. It was literally a shell of a building, with even the overhead wires hanging down in some places.

  But there were about ten or twelve stunningly beautiful women sitting in what looked like a space that might eventually become a lobby – but at the moment, was just a concrete floor, ceilings that revealed the electric wires and ventilation system and no walls.

  The gorgeous women didn’t seem to mind the lack of an office environment, Sloane realized. In fact, most of them were too busy preening, flipping their glossy blonde or brunette hair back over their shoulders or fluffing their locks for additional volume. One woman held up a mirror, pursing her lips and batting her lashes as if practicing for some sort of audition.

  This was odd, Sloane thought nervously as she took the only empty seat in the room. There were so many other women, all sitting on uncomfortable, metal folding chairs, all of them waiting impatiently to be called, all shooting covert glances at the others, as if measuring up their competition. When their names were called, they jumped up, excited and eager for their interview.

  Sloane didn’t understand what was going on until one of the women, a blonde woman with red, glossy lips and a cream silk blouse that was so low cut, Sloane could see the edge of her black, lace bra, sneered in her direction. “Why don’t you just walk away now? I’m going to land this job and,” she smiled maliciously, “if I’m lucky, land Josh Starke as well.”

  One of the other women, a blonde with shimmering hair and red lips, sneered at both of them. “Give it up, beeatch,” she whispered with a vicious, condescending laugh. “You don’t have what it takes to win Josh Starke’s attention,” and she lifted her hands to cup her very bodacious breasts slightly.

  Two other women sitting nearby snorted and Sloane watched with crazy fascination as yet another woman unbuttoned one more button on her silk shirt.

  Perhaps she should walk away, Sloane thought. The other women were all stunningly beautiful and all had amazing figures. After six months of near starvation, of giving nearly all of the food that she could afford to her younger sisters so that they could concentrate at school, Sloan looked like the homeless person that she was. Pepper might have done a good job of altering the skirt and blouse, but none of her sister’s efforts could compare to the gorgeous, expensive outfits these ladies were wearing.

  Which begged the question…what was going on here? Who was Josh Starke and why were all of these women preening as if they were about to step onto a stage for a beauty contest?

  Furthermore, the building was empty, without office furniture, lighting, phones, computers…or even walls! So…was this even a legitimate job? The employment agency had sent her here, explaining that this was a prime job opportunity. Sloane had been told that the company was looking a responsible administrative assistant and receptionist for a new start-up company. Receptionist duties and computer work were tasks that Sloane figured she could handle easily enough. Answering phones? Check, she could do that. Smile and greet people who came to visit? Yep, not a problem. Everything else? Well, she’d survived an illegal eviction after her mother’s sudden death, gotten her high school equivalency degree, and convinced a judge that she could support her sisters on her minimum
wage, hourly income. That last claim had been an absolute lie, but so far, she’d kept her family together and her two younger sisters were…well, if not thriving, they were together. A family.

  As far as Sloane was concerned, anything this Starke guy might throw at her, she could just figure it out, just as she’d done with every other miserable trial life had thrown at her over the past year.

  Okay, so she’d have to get the job first.

  If this even was a legitimate job. Watching the other women, Sloane was starting to doubt it.

  Another woman was called back, the deep voice that called her name was rather intimidating. Sloane shifted in her chair, keeping her skirt demurely over her knees even as the others around her were perfecting their “come-hither” vibe.

  Every time that deep voice called another woman back, it seemed as if his bellow was angrier than the last. Impatient bastard, she thought with increasing resentment and fear.

  Even worse, she’d been told that her interview time was at two o’clock! She’d switched shifts with another person at the restaurant so that she could be here at two o’clock, thinking that this job was a real opportunity. It was now almost four o’clock! She had to be at work in thirty minutes and she didn’t think that her boss would appreciate the excuse that she was interviewing for another job as a good enough reason to be late!

  The last beauty sauntered out from behind the wall and the mysterious, deep voice snapped, “Sloane Abbot!”

  Sloane stood up, hitching her plastic-wannabe-leather purse higher onto her shoulder. The other candidates had carried leather briefcases, most of them holding an elaborate day planner in their arms. They’d all looked professional and amazing! Sloane felt and looked like a candidate for…nothing. She looked horrible compared to the other beauties this man had interviewed today, but she lifted her chin and stepped behind the wall.

  “Sit down!” the tall, terrifyingly large man snapped, rubbing the bridge of his nose and sipped coffee out of a ceramic mug.

  Sloane sat on the metal folding chair, perching on the edge as if she knew that she’d be tossed out in a moment. When that happened, she wanted to be ready, although she’d love to come up with some perfectly succinct comment about the tardiness of this interview and how rude he was. He might look like a Greek god, with a sharp jawline that should be in a razor commercial, a head of thick, dark hair and broad, impossibly huge shoulders that pulled at the white material of his dress shirt.

  That was about all she could see of the man since he was looking at the papers on the cheap, metal desk. Except for that hand. He had nice hands, she thought. His fingers continued to rub his forehead, not looking up at her. Almost as if he knew she was a fake.

  “How fast can you type?” the man demanded.

  She once again noticed his broad shoulders and the exhaustion in his voice. The jet back hair was tousled as he tapped his pen against the paper that, she assumed, was her resume. A resume that looked pathetic. It filled only half the page.

  “About sixty words a minute.”

  The man opened his mouth to ask the next question, but he froze and actually lifted his head to look at her. “Sixty?”

  Sloane wasn’t sure if that startled reaction was good or bad. Sixty words a minute seemed pretty fast but…maybe it wasn’t? Maybe he needed more.

  “And do you take dictation?”

  Dictation? What was that? Wasn’t that…didn’t secretaries from the nineteen forties take dictation? She suspected that was a joke. “No, sir.”

  His gaze sharpened as he looked her over and she noticed that his eyes were a clear, astonishing green surrounded by thick, almost black lashes. Green eyes? The man seemed too harsh for such pretty eyes. Every part of him screamed “predator” and yet, his eyes with the long, dark lashes, were…there was no other word for it. His eyes were pretty. Beautiful, actually. Set against the taut, tanned skin of his harsh features, the eyes were startling.

  Slowly, the man shifted in his chair, the metal squeaking as his long, muscular body unfurled. Like a python, she thought. He leaned his forearms against the ancient desk, those green eyes peering at her through those lashes and Sloane felt a wave of something alarming hit her.

  But she wouldn’t back down! Not this time! She’d endured the icy cold rain of her mother’s funeral, dropping out of high school, living in a shelter, and working twenty hours a day for the past six months! No way was she letting yet another man intimidate her! Not this time!

  “You can barely type and you don’t know dictation. You seem to be barely out of high school…why the hell should I hire you?” he demanded. “Do you have any skills at all?”

  Oh, that was so unfair! Sloane glared at the man, ignoring the danger signals in his “pretty” green eyes. She was sick of men treating her like dirt! Her landlord had kicked them out of their apartment illegally, her boss thought it was okay to grope her whenever he passed by, and her father had ignored her from the moment of conception. Men were…bastards!

  “What can I give you? Well, let me see!” She stood up, too angry to sit still. “I have patience, since you set up this interview for two o’clock and it is now almost four-thirty. I have determination, because believe me mister, you have no idea what I’ve gone through over the past six months! And what’s more? Hiring me means that you’ll get someone who actually wants to work! The others out there were looking to jump into your bed. Trust me, several of them were bragging about their chances of bedding you while they waited.”

  She took a deep breath, and kept going. “What’s more? I’m a damn good worker! I am barely out of high school, but before I left school, I took over the high school newspaper when no one else would and turned it around. All by myself. I had absolutely no idea how to put a newspaper together, but I figured it out. I also figured out how to do payroll for my current job, run a chicken fryer, and flip burgers. All at the same time! I create the schedules for thirty employees because the manager is too lazy to do it himself. And I’ve done all of it without training.”

  She leaned forward, glaring at him. “So, hiring me means that you’ll get an employee who might not know everything immediately, but I figure things out. I get the job done correctly and efficiently. Furthermore, I definitely won’t be trying to get into your bed! If that’s not what you’re looking for Mr….whatever your name is, then fine! I’m sick of my boss groping me anyway!”

  With that, she stalked out of the building. Thankfully, her car started on the first try and she puttered out of the parking lot, unaware of the tears streaming down her cheeks. It would have been awesome if she could have screeched her tires as she sped out of the parking lot, but this car, and she used that term loosely when referring to the tin can on wheels she was driving, didn’t screech. It barely puttered. In this instance, Sloane was just grateful that it didn’t putter out and die.

  When she was a mile away, Sloane released the breath she’d been holding, trying to shake off the tension from the miserable, wasted afternoon. Another jerk! Another man trying to throw his weight around! Oh how she hated men like that! She hated men in general, but jerks who thought they could control someone else simply because they had money or power, or both, were real assholes! They were gross, disgusting, horrible human beings!

  Parking at the fast food place, she reached into the back seat and pulled out her cheap, polyester uniform. For a moment, she contemplated changing in the bathroom versus here in the parking lot. But if she went inside, Sloane wasn’t sure that her boss would leave her alone while she changed. She didn’t doubt that he’d find a reason to “check the bathroom” while she was in there mid-change. So she figured it was better to risk being seen here in the parking lot than tempting fate, and the pervert, inside.

  Parked at the far end of the parking lot, Josh watched as the young woman somehow changed out of the pathetic skirt and blouse she’d worn to the interview and into a pair of jeans and the ugliest striped shirt he’d ever seen. Glancing in the fast food place, he reali
zed that the shirt was the same colors as the tacky décor.

  What the hell was he doing here? Yeah, the young woman had struck a nerve back at the interview, but she’d been belligerent and loud. And yet, his instincts told him that Sloane Abbot would make the perfect assistant. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the skills he’d advertised, was completely lacking in the confidence that he preferred in his employees, her clothes had been threadbare in several places…but she had guts. Yeah, that was what he was looking for. He needed someone to help him grow his company and Sloane Abbot had gumption. He almost laughed at the antiquated term.

  Driving out of the parking lot, he pressed a button on his steering wheel. “Jefferson!” he called out when Jefferson Lamont, his friend and mentor, answered the call, “I’m heading to your place. I’m about to do something stupid.”

  “Sounds interesting. Come on over,” the older man hung up.

  Five years ago, Josh might have laughed at Jefferson’s abrupt way of handling cell phones. But now it was simply expected. Fifteen minutes later, Josh pulled into the driveway of an enormous house. Some might call it a mansion, but Jefferson would snap at anyone who dared, even though there was a carriage house guarding the front gate, fifteen bedrooms in the main house, and there was even a pool house at the opposite end of the enormous pool.

  Spring was a good time to visit this part of the country. Right now, everything was green and lush. In a few more months, the grass would be brown and the trees struggled to hang on to any precipitation. By August, everything would be hot and miserable.

  No brown lawn here though. Jefferson had an elaborate sprinkler system that watered everything in the early hours of the morning and the pool sparkled invitingly in the sunshine on those hot, summer afternoons when it was too miserable to do anything but swim. Of course, Jefferson Lamont was what some might call disgustingly rich, but Josh knew him to be an extremely good man. No one knew how generous the old bastard really was. But Josh did. Josh had been a gutter rat, only two steps away from prison when Jefferson had pulled him out of the harsh and unforgiving streets and cleaned him up. Josh owed the old man everything, although no matter how much money Josh made, Jefferson refused to accept repayment.