Miss White and the Seventh Heir

“This all sounds too convenient. Why should I believe you?”

“You shouldn’t. Not after what I’ve done. But I wanted you to know that you opened my eyes to the potential of QTR.”

“And if the future of the magazine were just up to you?”

“I’d continue to help you rebuild it. But it’s not up to me. I’m just one vote on the board. And there is some staunch opposition.”

“I guess you’d know since you were one of them.”

He nodded. There was no denying it. “But if my mind can be changed, so can theirs.”

“But not without a plan for the upcoming year. I need a solid production schedule. And now between the bad reputation of the magazine and Elsa’s conniving, I don’t have anyone on the calendar.”

“You still have time.”

“No, I don’t. I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m flying back to California and putting this whole miserable experience behind me.”

The thought that he caused her to give up hurt him more than he thought possible. He refused to give up—on the magazine and especially on setting things right with Sage.

“Don’t go.” The words passed his lips before he could think through the ramifications.

“Why? So you can lie to me some more?”

“I’m not lying to you. Things can never be the same again, but I will prove to you that I can do better—that you can trust me.”

“With us being on opposite sides of the magazine?”

“I told you I’ve changed my mind.”

“And you expect me to just believe you? Would you have ever told me the truth if Elsa hadn’t outed you?”

He lowered his head. “I tried to tell you several times. There was always a convenient excuse to put it off. It just never seemed like the right time. We were getting along so well and I... I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

“You certainly did that.”

He scratched at his beard. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

“At least your father must be happy that you changed your mind about the magazine.”

“He doesn’t know.”

“But why not?”

“My father and I aren’t close. In fact—” he paused because it still hurt for him to admit “—I don’t know him at all.”

“You don’t?”

He shook his head. “My father left my mother when I was three years old. He said he couldn’t run his magazine from France.”

“Why didn’t your mother go with him?”

“She said her life was in France. And that she would never fit into his world any more than he fit into hers.”

“That’s so sad.”

Trey shrugged. “I think there was more to the story, but my mother died before she told me the whole truth. She didn’t like talking about my father.”

“It must have been tough being the child of divorced parents.”