Page 23 of Billionaire Grump

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“The doors are locked. There are cameras all around the property, and she couldn’t have escaped through the gate unless someone opened it.” His brow tightens, and the ease seems to disappear. He hurries to glance out the window at the open gate. He curses and throws open the front door, having a look around.

The kid could be anywhere. I should have specified that we weren’t going outside. But it did look like rain. She wouldn’t have ventured out by herself. At least, I hope not.

“I can’t believe you lost her,” Levi growls.

“It’s not my fault. I was trying to come up with an indoor activity. It’s not like you have a playroom or video games set up for her. There isn’t much to do.”

“You could both use your imagination.”

He’s right. I shouldn’t have suggested hide and seek. The house is massive. I’ll never forgive myself if she left through the front door and escaped the yard.

“Do we call the police?” I ask, my voice trembling.

“No. We don’t want to scare her if she’s hiding in the house. And I certainly don’t need my mother learning about this on the five o’clock news,” Levi mutters.

“That’s what you’re worried about? Your mother finding out.” I laugh at the absurdity of his suggestion.

He grunts and doesn’t answer me. I’m not blaming him; I screwed up, and he’s angry with me. “You take upstairs. I’ll take the third floor. We’ll both come down and try the main level. Tell her that you’ve got cookies or candy. Something that will make her want to show herself.”

“You want me to lie to your daughter?” I can’t believe his suggestion. I’m trying to gain her trust, not manipulate her.

“No, I want you to find Amelia.” He brushes past me, heading up two flights of stairs to the third floor.

I hurry behind him, checking each bedroom, the laundry room, and the bathroom. I search high and low again from behind the shower curtain to the cupboard under the bathroom sink.

There’s no sign of Amelia.

“Cookies! Your dad made freshly baked cookies,” I shout through the hallway. I try my bedroom again and stumble over the pink suitcase that’s left slightly open.

I’m sure I zipped it closed last night, but it was late after I finished doing my laundry and putting my clothes away.

I lean down, and the suitcase is far heavier than it should be as I nudge it toward the wall.

A fit of giggles surfaces, and I pull back the lid, revealing a shrieking little girl. She jumps up and down inside my hard-cover suitcase, cracking the case.

Her eyes widen as she breaks the shell’s outer lining.

“I found her!” I shout, hoping that Levi can hear me.

“Cookies?” Her eyes brighten at the prospect of cookies. “What kind?”

Levi’s heavy footfalls stomp over the carpet as he enters my bedroom without knocking. Not that he needs to announce his presence; it’s quite obvious he’s here.

“Where were you—” He’s met with the answer when he sees the bottom shell of the suitcase is damaged, and Amelia is still inside, wiggling and dancing her victory.

Levi lifts her into the air, carrying her downstairs.

“Airplane Girl said you made cookies,” Amelia proclaims.

“Oh, she did?” Levi glances back at me over his shoulder as we head down to the main level.

“Cookies were your suggestion,” I remind him. I’m not going to break this little girl’s heart because he doesn’t have cookies in the house.

“Yes, they were.”

“What kind? Chocolate chip?” Amelia asks, squirming in his embrace.

“Airplane Girl, do you know how to bake?” Levi asks.


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