Single Dad's Spring Break: A Billionaire's Second Chance Romance

“That is a hollandaise sauce.”

“You’ll have to teach me your ways,” she said. “Then I could eat like a queen all the time.”

“Or you could come over more often and I could cook for you,” the chef said.

“You put him up to that, didn’t you?” she asked.

I held up my hands in mock surrender before I shot my chef a thumbs up and he offered me a wink in reply.

We ate more food than we could stand, but soon it was time to get the kids ready for school. I was helping to clean up the plates while Brooke got the kids upstairs. I was headed upstairs myself to clean up and get ready for work, but then a knock sounded at the door.

A resounding, angry knock.

“Kevin! Open up this damn door!”

Brooke’s eyes widened as the kids turned around at the sound.

I groaned as Sarah’s voice filtered through the door.

“I know you’re in there! Open up!”

“Take the kids upstairs and get them ready,” I said. “I’ll deal with her.”

“Is that—?”

“Yes. Now go upstairs. I don’t want them seeing this.”

“Daddy, is something wrong?” Daniel asked.

“Everything’s fine,” I said. “You and Sydney go upstairs and get ready for school.”

I had to admit, I felt guilty about the kids not knowing about their mother. When we got back from the island, I had promised myself I would tell them stories about her. But I wanted to see what she was like one on one before I introduced her to them in any way.

But ever since the therapy appointment, I hadn’t been taking Sarah’s calls. I wanted time for her to calm down before we talked.

I didn’t think she’d bring that anger to my house, though.

Proving my point that she was selfish and still not thinking of the kids.

“Open this door, Kevin!”

“Come on, kids. Let’s go get you dressed,” Brooke said.

I watched until they were all the way down the hallway, then I yanked open the front door.

“What?” I asked.

“Why haven’t you been taking my calls?” Sarah asked as she shoved her way into my home.

“Hey, you don’t have a right to barge in here without my permission,” I said.

“Why haven’t you been taking my calls?" she asked again. “You promised that I would get to talk to the kids.”

“I was giving you time to calm down after our therapy session.”

“Oh, you mean where you came in and berated me for twenty minutes before walking out and declaring it was over?” she asked.

“You know everything I said in there was right, whether you want to own up to it or not. And you storming up to my house and cussing at my door while the kids are here proves to me my suspicions are right. The only person you think about is yourself. It didn’t even occur to you that the kids were getting ready for school and are here to listen to you yell through the door!”