Poor Dad Blocked A Scam Artist From Pressuring A Woman, Not Knowing She Was A CEO Falling For Him
Bridging Two Worlds
But Bella came running back at that moment, arms outstretched. “Dad, watch me do the slide backwards!”
Wesley stood. “Let’s see it.”
Elle watched him chase after Bella, laughing with arms open. He was good, kind, and solid.
Elle felt something she hadn’t felt in years: safe. That night, Elle lay in bed in her penthouse suite, staring at the ceiling.
She was falling for him. She could feel it.
She didn’t know what scared her more: the fact that he had no idea who she really was, or the fact that he might not care at all.
Wesley tightened the last bolt on the radiator and wiped his hands on a rag that had seen better days. The old brownstone smelled like mildew and cheap paint.
But the landlord paid cash, and he needed every dollar. He checked the clock on his phone.
If he left now and didn’t hit traffic, he’d make it to Bella’s piano recital just in time.
He packed up his tools, jogged down the stairs, and tossed his bag into the backseat of his truck. It sputtered to life with a groan.
He muttered a promise to the engine. “One more month. Just hold on.”
The school parking lot was nearly full. He slid into a spot near the back and grabbed the plastic container of brownies he’d made last night.
Bella had read out loud from her mystery book while he baked. He hurried inside.
He spotted her immediately. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and she was sitting in the second row, eyes scanning the crowd.
When she saw him, she waved both arms like she was guiding a plane to land. “You made it,” she whispered fiercely as he sat beside her.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” She leaned into his side as the lights dimmed.
The recital was an hour of mismatched tempos and off-key notes. But when Bella’s name was called, she straightened her spine.
She marched to the piano with all the seriousness of a concert soloist. Wesley’s heart clenched as her fingers found the keys.
She played slowly and carefully, her lips moving in silent counting. When she finished, she stood, bowed, and beamed at him.
He clapped the hardest. Afterward, they stood in the hallway with other parents and kids, sipping fruit punch from tiny cups.
Bella was mid-sentence about a classmate’s glitter shoes when Wesley felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hope there’s still a brownie left for me.”
He turned. Elle stood there, wearing a blazer over a t-shirt with a faded band logo and jeans that looked too casual for anyone else.
Somehow, they looked perfect on her. “What are you doing here?” he asked, stunned.
“I asked Bella which recital was yours. She told me the time and place.”
She looked at the container. “And that you make the best brownies in the world.”
Bella grinned proudly. “He adds cinnamon. It’s a secret.”
He looked between them. “You two have been talking?”
Elle nodded. “She’s an excellent negotiator. I had to promise to help her build a website for her lemonade stand.”
Bella gasped. “You remembered!”
“I never forget a contract,” Elle said seriously. Wesley handed her a brownie.
“I didn’t expect you here. Thought I’d see you in your element.”
She said, “I wasn’t wrong.” He watched her bite into the brownie, her eyes lighting up.
“All right,” she said. “That’s unfairly good.”
Bella tugged his sleeve. “Can she come to dinner?”
Wesley hesitated. “I didn’t plan anything.”
“I saw hot dogs in the fridge,” Bella said. Elle gave a dramatic gasp.
“Did you say hot dogs? I’m staying.”
He laughed despite himself. Dinner was chaotic.
Wesley burned two buns and Bella spilled ketchup. Elle somehow ended up flipping pancakes because Bella wanted breakfast dessert.
Wesley leaned against the counter. He watched her whisk batter like she’d been in their kitchen a hundred times.
Later, after Bella had fallen asleep mid-cartoon, Elle sat on the couch with her legs tucked under her. Her fingers traced the rim of her water glass.
“She’s incredible,” she said softly. Wesley nodded. “She is.”
Elle looked at him. “You do a lot with very little.”
“I get by.” “I don’t think people realize how much strength that takes.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he asked, “What about you? Any family?”
She shook her head. “Not anymore.”
He didn’t press. “I’ve worked most of my life,” she said.
“Built what I have from the ground up. But sometimes I wonder if it cost me more than I realized.”
He studied her. “You regret it.”
“I don’t know.” Her voice was quiet. “Maybe.”
Wesley shifted. “You could have anyone. Why are you here?”
She met his eyes. “Because when I’m here, I don’t feel like I have to be anyone.”
He didn’t have an answer for that either. The silence between them stretched, not uncomfortable, just full.
Then Elle said, “I’ve got a charity event this Saturday. It’s at the Hilton rooftop, black tie, lots of glassware.”
“Completely ridiculous.” He raised a brow. “Sounds fancy.”
“It is.” She hesitated. “Come with me.”
Wesley blinked. “You want me to crash your gala?”
“I want you to be my date.” “I don’t even own a tie.”
“I’ll take care of that.” He narrowed his eyes.
“You’re serious?” “Completely.”
He glanced toward the hallway where Bella slept. “What would I even talk about?”
“Whatever you want.” He let out a breath.
“You’re really not used to hearing no.” She smiled. “Is that a yes?”
“I’ll think about it.” Her eyes lit with a quiet challenge.
“I’ll take that as a maybe.” He didn’t say it, but the truth was already forming in his chest.
He’d go. When she looked at him like that, it was harder to remember why he’d started building walls.
She looked at him like he was worth showing off to the world. Somehow, she was already walking right through them.
