“I’m not sure. These men have been trying to see me.”
“Men?” he repeated, a shot of displeasure rising through him.
“They’ve already come to the house twice and—”
“Which house?” he asked, sitting up in his chair.
“This house,” she said. “Your house.”
“Why in hell are they coming here?” he asked. “And why haven’t any of my staff seen them?”
“They’re here to see me.” She pulled a card from her purse and handed it to them. “I have no idea who the House of Devereaux is.” She took a quick, desperate breath and pushed her brown hair nervously behind her ear. “As you know, my mother died a few months ago. She didn’t have much money at the end.” Coco bit her lip. “Bill collectors started coming around. These men reminded me of them.”
Benjamin frowned and set down his drink. He studied the card. “Did you cosign any of her loans?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll call my brother—he’s an attorney—and see if he knows anything about this House of Devereaux. In the meantime, if those guys show up, I want you to call my cell right away.”
She looked hesitant.
“Is there anything else I need to know?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. I’m just not sure I should have dragged you into this.”
“These men came onto my property without an invitation. You are an important employee. That makes it my business.”
The vulnerability she showed grabbed at him, although he sure as hell wouldn’t admit it. Coco had a fresh-scrubbed face and slim body, making her look younger than her years. Sweet and innocent, probably hoping for a Prince Charming to sweep her off her feet. Not his type at all. Benjamin had usually gone for low-maintenance women who knew their way around a man and wouldn’t expect too much of him. Except for Brooke. He’d made a big mistake with Brooke.
“I need your word that you’ll call me if they come around again,” he insisted.
She sighed and nodded reluctantly. “I will, but I’m hoping I’ll fall off their radar.”
Benjamin had a feeling that her wish wouldn’t come true. “Just so we understand each other,” he said and stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
The next day as Coco dressed Emma, she pointed to the photograph of Benjamin she had placed on a dresser in the baby’s room. “Daddy,” Coco said. “That’s your daddy.”
The baby was cheerful and a little less clingy than usual. Coco was pleased with Emma’s progress and hoped there might be an opportunity for Emma and Benjamin to make a little peace.
The doorbell rang as she was feeding Coco her lunch.
Sarah entered the kitchen. “Two men are here to see you. Dever-something?” she said.
Coco’s stomach clenched. She wondered if she should send them away, but remembered her promise to Benjamin. She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Tell them to wait in the front room, please,” she said and pulled out her cell phone. As soon as Sarah left, she punched Benjamin’s number on her cell phone.
“Benjamin,” he said in a curt voice.
“It’s me, Coco,” she said. “The men are here. They’re in the den.”
“Do you know what they want?” he asked.
“Not yet. I’ve been feeding Emma. I only called because you made me promise,” she said.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said and hung up the phone.
Coco handed the feeding of Emma over to Sarah and made her way to the front room. The two men immediately stood. “Miss Jordan, thank you for seeing us. Again, I’m Paul Forno, and this is my colleague Gerald Shaw.”
Tense, Coco laced her fingers together in front of her. “If this is regarding my mother’s debt, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
Mr. Forno’s face crinkled in confusion. “Your mother’s debt?” he echoed. “I wasn’t aware that Miss London had any debt issues. According to our information, she’s been well cared for, per her agreement with your father.”
“Miss London,” she echoed, not certain who was more confused—she or Mr. Forno. “That’s not my mother’s name. You must have the wrong person.”
Mr. Forno studied her. “You do know that you were adopted, don’t you?”
“Of course, but—” She broke off, struggling to keep her emotions under control as she tried to make sense of the men’s visit. “Is this about my birth mother? I tried to find her years ago, but I was told she didn’t want to meet me. Has she changed her mind?”
Mr. Forno exchanged a look with his associate. “Unfortunately—”
The front door opened and Benjamin stepped inside, his gaze sweeping the front room. “Problem?”
Coco immediately felt a sense of relief. “I think there’s a lot of confusion right now.”
Benjamin addressed the two men. “It shouldn’t take long to clear up any confusion given the fact that you’ve been bothering Miss Jordan. If you have a legitimate reason to see her, then spill it or leave.”
Mr. Forno cleared his throat. “This is a matter of a delicate nature. We, uh, prefer to speak to Miss Jordan privately.”
“That’s up to Miss Jordan,” Benjamin said.
“I’d like Mr. Garner to remain,” she said. “Whatever you say to me, you can say in front of him.”
Mr. Shaw sighed. “Then, sir, we must request that you sign a confidentiality agreement.”
“I’m not signing anything,” Benjamin said. “You’re in my house and you’re wasting my employee’s time and mine, too.”
Mr. Shaw looked nervous and perplexed. “Then I must beg of you to keep what we are about to tell you in the strictest confidence.”
Benjamin lifted one shoulder in halfhearted agreement. “Still waiting.”
Mr. Forno waved his hand. “Allow me to introduce ourselves, Mr. Garner. I am Paul Forno and this is my associate, Gerald Shaw, with the House of Devereaux. Perhaps we should sit down.”
Impatience simmering from Benjamin, he sat down. The others followed.
“As I said, we are representatives of the House of Devereaux,” the man began.
“What is that?” Benjamin asked.
Mr. Shaw
