Worth More Than Money (Worth It 3)

I slowly rifled through the box, taking in the familiar book covers. More photo albums. I pulled a couple out and began flipping through them, but as I got closer to the bottom I noticed that one of them didn’t look like the others. The front was a faded black, almost leather-like quality. Much older than the other albums. I pulled it out and set the rest inside, trying not to make a nasty, dusty mess of the coffee table in Gray’s living room. I sat down on the couch and flipped it open, my eyes scanning the old and yellowed pictures.

And I recognized who was in them.

I smiled as my fingers drifted over his face. Much younger, and his hair was thick and dark. But I’d never forget that smile. The old photo album was full of pictures from when Anton was younger. And they were fascinating. I flipped all the way through them, taking in Anton’s wide smile and his sparkling eyes. One in particular caught my attention. A picture of him with his arm slid around a beautiful woman’s slim waist.

I pulled back the plastic to slide it out and get a better look, but instead of pulling out one picture, I pulled out two.

I set aside the one I had been reaching for in exchange for the other one. Tears rushed my eyes when I saw it. There Anton was, holding a baby in his arms and smiling like an absolute maniac. If the picture were a high enough resolution, I could’ve sworn there were tears in his eyes. The small bundle wrapped up in a blanket and lying in the swollen forearms of the strong man I’d come to know back in Illinois.

My hand trembled as my mind began to reel with questions.

What had ever become of that child? Was the child was somehow kin to Anton? Maybe it was someone he had lost, because I didn’t recall him talking about ever having a child. Gosh, had Anton lost his only offspring?

The thought made me sick as I leaned into the couch.

I pressed the picture against my stomach, already in love with the child growing inside of me. I couldn’t imagine losing it like Anton apparently had. And my love and respect for Anton grew in that very moment. The sympathy and empathy that filled my body welled my eyes with tears. Pushed them down my cheeks until I brought my hands to my face and sobbed.

I’d do anything to protect my child. Anything to protect them from the harshness of this world.

And in the back of my mind, I knew Anton would’ve done the same had he ever gotten the chance.

“Oh, Anton,” I said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry.”

Chapter 23

Grayson

/> Sitting in my office downtown, I waited for my next meeting. I kept looking back at the picture of the note Michelle had sent me. What in the world had that damn realtor found in that house now? I was tempted to ask Michelle to send me a picture of what was in the box, but I didn’t want to disturb her. Plus, I was about to have another very important meeting regarding the distribution of my latest batch of wine to prepare for the fall season. Which meant I needed to focus, not dig into more of the past on a whim when I didn’t know what else it held.

The phone on my desk rang out and I picked it up. I figured it was the distributor calling to tell me he was late, but instead heard a voice I never expected to hear again.

“Grayson MacDonald.”

“Hey there, Gray.”

“Andy?” I asked.

“You’re a hard man to track down.”

“How did you get this number?”

“Your website.”

“My website doesn’t have my number,” I said.

“I pestered the email address on your website for it.”

I’d have to really have a word with Maria once I got back home.

“You sound good,” I said. “And by good, I mean sober.”

“Well, I haven’t been drunk in a few days now, so hopefully I do sound better.”

“You haven’t been drunk? Or you haven’t been drinking?”

“I’ve been sober for a few days, Gray.”

“That’s good. Are you calling to complain about my product, then?”