It had been hours since Leyla left his office, and he couldn’t get her off his mind.
When he’d asked about her Sharraini heritage, she’d balked. Which was strange. In every other topic, she’d seemed comfortable and confident.
Was there something about her connections with Sharrain that she didn’t want to talk about?
Kane tapped his forefinger against his lips, considering the matter. She’d been so pleased when he’d asked her out.
And he’d been thrilled that she’d accepted.
The part that didn’t sit well with Kane was the lie. He’d told her their dinner would be a personal, not professional one, and that wasn’t really the case.
It would start out personal, sure, but the proposition he planned on making was entirely business-based.
Although, if he was being honest with himself, he also looked forward to the evening for selfish reasons unrelated to ClayFuel’s success. It had been a while since he’d given women more than a passing thought, and man, did Leyla absorb all of his attention.
Which really wasn’t okay.
Kane could admire her, but, as she would soon find out, that admiration would need to happen from a distance.
The office phone ringing made Kane jump in his seat. Turning the chair back around, he snatched up the receiver.
“Kane.”
“Mr. Clayton, it’s Benji.”
Kane cringed. A number of times, he’d asked the private investigator he contracted on the regular to call him by his first name, but the request still hadn’t stuck.
Back before he was a CEO, still living to chase skirts and ride bulls, everyone had called Kane by his first name. That, or names that shouldn’t be repeated.
The whole “Mr. Clayton” thing would still take some getting used to.
“That was quick,” Kane said, though he wasn’t surprised. There was a reason why he’d hired Benji over and over again.
“It took a bit of digging, but I think I found something you’ll be really interested in.”
“Oh?” Kane sat forward in his seat, suddenly nervous and half not wanting to hear whatever came next.
Because he wished to make sure the new face of ClayFuel didn’t have a questionable past that could lead to PR trouble, Kane had asked Benji to look into Leyla.
It had been his plan when he’d only expected whatever actress he hired to be the face for his company. Now that he hoped Leyla would do more than that, her having a squeaky-clean record was of the utmost importance.
“Did Leyla tell you anything about her family?” Benji asked.
Kane paused, soaking in the question. “She was pretty tight-lipped.”
“I can see why. Maybe she wants to make her own way in the world. That, or she’s the black sheep.”
“What do you mean?” Kane asked.
“Leyla’s connected to royalty. Her mother’s cousin is the king of Sharrain.”
Kane’s ears rang. “What?”
“King Mabrouk. He’s been in charge of the country for twenty years.”
“Yes.” It took a lot of effort for Kane to find the words. “I know.”
What were the chances? Leyla was King Mabrouk’s relative! The very same king who’d denied Kane’s request to drill for oil in his country.
The problem which only that morning had seemed so momentous was now nothing more than a molehill. Laughable, really.
The world wanted Kane to succeed.
“Leyla’s mother and Mabrouk were close as kids,” Benji said. “Her parents died in a car accident when she was young, and she moved into the palace. Was basically raised as a princess next to her two cousins.”
“This is amazing,” he breathed. “Did you find anything else?”
“Only that Leyla’s mother, a Maira Al-Adain, moved from Sharrain to Texas almost twenty-nine years ago, with her infant daughter, Leyla. She went to work as a maid while going to school here and there. After a few years, she got a degree in child education and started working at a preschool. She owns a house in Georgetown.”
Benji cleared his throat. “Ah. Sorry about that. I mean, she used to. The house belongs to her daughter, now. Maira died a few months ago.”
All the wind left Kane’s lungs.
“That about does it,” Benji said. “Leyla’s record is clean, other than one speeding ticket a few years back.”
Kane opened his mouth, knowing he had to respond.
Except, what was there to say?
Leyla’s mother had died only months ago.
Knowing that made a deep ache take over Kane’s chest.
“Anything else you need from me?” Benji asked.
Kane drew a long breath. “No. That’s all. Thank you. This was all very helpful.”
After they hung up, Kane sat frozen, staring at his closed office door.
A few months. In terms of grief, it seemed like nothing.
Then again, he knew a person could only sit around and miss what had been for so long before they drove themselves crazy. Jumping back into life helped with the healing process.
At least, that’s what the counselor he’d gone to see earlier in the year had told him.
Opening up the browser on his computer, Kane found Leyla’s social media profile. It didn’t take much scrolling before he came across a picture of Leyla and an older woman who looked much like her.
“Miss you every day,” the caption, complete with a heart emoji, said.
That terrible ache returned. He wanted to call Leyla right then and there and tell her how sorry he was, that he understood how she felt, and he was there if she wished to talk.
But he didn’t pick up the phone.
If they ever got on that topic, she’d have to be the one to broach it.
With no warning, the office door opened. Kane’s mother strode in, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him.
“Mom.” Kane stood to greet her.
Knock much?
“Kane.” She kissed his cheek. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. How are you? Can I get you anything?”
With a sigh, she dropped her designer purse on the nearest chair.
“No, dear. I’m all right. I just popped in to see how your auditions went. Did you find the perfect girl?”
Man, had he ever.
“They went well.” Kane settled back behind his desk, and his mother took the seat across from him.
She delicately touched the side of her blond updo. “Now, where did I put my purse?”
“Right there.” Kane jumped to standing and fetched it for her.
The stress of the last year had contributed to Judy Clayton being more distracted than everyone knew she cared to admit. Seeing as she’d been through so much, Kane didn’t mind tending to whatever needs she had.
As soon as his mother had her purse, she withdrew a small compact and used it to check her hair.
Kane could count on his fingers the number of times he’d seen her without a full face of makeup and perfectly styled hair.
“Right, then.” The compact closed with a loud clap. “You were saying you found the right actress.”
“Yes, and I already offered her the job.”
Judy arched a brow. “You don’t say.”
Kane nodded, aware of his mother’s lingering gaze. “What?”