Chapter 519

Evelyn handed little Oliver to Bennett and headed straight into the boardroom for her meeting.

When she returned, the boy was quietly assembling a puzzle in her office, his small fingers carefully placing each piece.

She reviewed contracts for nearly an hour before her phone buzzed.

Preston Sinclair's name flashed on the screen.

"Mr. Sinclair?" she answered.

"Ms. Sterling, how's my son behaving?"

That deep, velvety voice of his could melt glaciers. It always made her pulse quicken.

She blinked, momentarily distracted. "He's being an angel. Currently conquering a thousand-piece puzzle."

A rich chuckle traveled through the line. "The little traitor conspired with his nanny and security detail to skip school today."

Evelyn glanced at Oliver. "Would you like to speak with him?"

"No!"

The boy slammed the phone down before Preston could respond. He'd orchestrated this entire escape just to be with his Pretty Lady. No interruptions allowed.

Evelyn smirked at the disconnected call and texted Preston: [I'll have him call when he finishes playing.]

His reply came instantly: [I'll collect him personally.]

Another message followed: [That way I get to see you too.]

Her fingers hovered over the screen. No appropriate response came to mind, so she left it unanswered.

"Pretty Lady, don't let Daddy take me home!" Oliver clung to her sleeve with sticky fingers.

She tweaked his nose. "We'll see."

Near dusk, Bennett knocked. "Mr. Sinclair has arrived."

"Send him in."

Preston materialized in the doorway, his tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders. "Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all."

His gaze swept over Oliver, who was now sprawled across the carpet assembling what appeared to be a miniature city. "Someone's enjoying himself."

Preston's lips curved as he turned to Evelyn. "Join us for dinner?"

Her automatic refusal was on her tongue. "I have prior engagements."

His smile deepened as he addressed his son. "Oliver, won't you invite Ms. Sterling to dine with us?"

The boy finally looked up. "Okay."

If it meant more time with Evelyn, he'd tolerate his father's presence.

Oliver scrambled to his feet. "Pretty Lady, will you go on a date with me?"

Preston's expression darkened. "Who taught you that word?"

The child folded his arms. "If Pretty Lady won't eat, then I won't eat, and Daddy won't eat! We'll all starve together!"

Evelyn nearly choked. Why did the threat always single her out as the one who'd perish first?

Under Oliver's puppy-dog eyes and Preston's smoldering stare, her resistance crumbled. "Fine. I'll reschedule."

She instructed Bennett to postpone her unimportant meetings.

The bistro nearby had cozy window seats with swinging chairs.

Preston produced a bouquet of white hydrangeas seemingly from nowhere. "An elderly vendor outside," he lied smoothly.

Oliver snatched the flowers first, eyeing his father suspiciously. "There's no flower lady out there. Lying's bad, Daddy."

Preston's jaw tightened. This child would be the death of him.

The boy had grown increasingly wary of his father's motives. Was Daddy actually trying to steal Pretty Lady for himself?

Their silent glaring contest amused Evelyn as she shelled shrimp.

The tense moment shattered when two familiar figures approached their table.

"You—you have a child together?!" gasped Victoria Ashford, her manicured hand flying to her mouth.