once her fertility problems became public knowledge.
Dalton hadn’t put up with that, of course. He’d called his father on it every time he’d witnessed it. But Dalton hadn’t been around much. Caro had stepped up to her defense, as well. That was how she and Caro had gotten so close. At first, Hollister’s behavior had hurt. She hadn’t realized he treated everyone badly. He wasn’t picking on her. He was just a jerk.
Would Ginger know that?
She’d seemed tough. Would she be able to defend herself against the likes of Hollister? Would she understand that any sign of weakness would stir up the piranhas? Would she have any defenses against the people who would pretend to be her friend and then turn on her in a second?
Yes, Cooper was right. It wasn’t Portia’s business. But that didn’t stop her from worrying about the girl. She’d been counting on Cooper to take over finding the heiress for her. The hope that some of his reward money would be funneled to Caro was just the salted caramel topping on the brownie. Now that he’d refused, she was left in the hot seat again. She had no other ideas about how to help Caro or the heiress. Unless she went to Dalton.
Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that being found was going to change this woman’s life forever, and not necessarily in a good way. But what could she do? Not telling anyone that she’d found the heiress wasn’t an option. Damn Cooper for not agreeing to help her. Really, she’d thought better of him.
A moment later there was a knock on the door. Men may never do precisely what she expected them to do, but thank goodness for chocolate. It was there when she needed it.
But when she opened the door, it wasn’t room service with her brownie. It was Cooper.
He leaned casually against the wall right outside her hotel room, one ankle crossed over the other. He was wearing the same suit he’d had on earlier in the day, but the tie was gone and the jacket looked rumpled. Like he’d taken it off several times over the past few hours.
He looked up when she opened the door. “Hey, I need a favor.”
“You’re not a brownie,” she muttered under her breath.
He blinked, looking surprised. Then his mouth curled in a wry smile. “Not the last time I checked.”
“I ordered a brownie from room service.” God, that sounded pathetic. A woman eating a brownie alone in a hotel room? It practically screamed loser. “It has a salted caramel topping.”
Nope. That didn’t sound any less pathetic.
Thank God, she hadn’t mentioned the carafe of red wine.
He had texted her over two hours earlier saying he wanted to stop by to talk, so she’d sent him her room number, but when he never showed up, she’d assumed he’d decided against it.
Cooper ignored her babbling and asked, “Can I come in?”
Tempted though she was to demand he go find her brownie as a gesture of goodwill, she stepped aside and let him enter.
He walked into the room and shut the door behind him. Her hotel was one that catered to businesspeople, so her room was a minisuite, with a small living area and kitchen. Before the knock, she’d been about to settle onto the sofa and watch a movie she’d bought on pay-per-view. A sappy romantic drama she’d already seen. The title of the movie was splashed across the screen in pause mode. She clicked the TV off, feeling strangely ashamed of her choice. Next time she was picking an action movie. Or one of those comedies with all the frat-boy humor.
She glanced back over to see Cooper studying her. “What?” she asked self-consciously.
“Nothing.” His full lips curved into a smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking...” His words trailed off like he didn’t have the faintest idea how to describe her appearance.
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