Shifting Tides: Ocean Breezes Series, #1

By Genie St. Claire

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. They're wrong. It's paved with lies, surprises, and sins of omission...

Aila Peterson is living the dream. Her life can't get any better between her career as a nurse practitioner and raising her five-year-old daughter. Or so it seems until the sudden death of Sofie's birth mother exposes that her perfect life is built on betrayal and deception. Not only did Abby lie about Sofie's biological father not wanting her, but she never told him that she was pregnant in the first place.

Unless you count the letter that her attorney delivered in person to billionaire businessman Nolan Bishop after her death.

While it's not his fault he's been MIA for the first five years, Aila doesn't want Sofie's father intimately involved in their lives. He's a womanizing, globe-trotting business mogul. Not prime daddy material in her opinion. However, she isn't foolish enough to believe she can defeat him in a custody battle. Fortunately, Bishop is a reasonable man, so it likely won't come to that.

Not unless she answers the question hanging between them wrong...

(Previously published as a spicier, non-explicit contemporary stand-alone, A Necessary Convenience by Tori Lennox)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Genie St. Claire
• Release date: Oct 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223547532

Genie St. Claire

Genie St. Claire is an avid lover of all things romance and the author of the clean and wholesome Ocean Breezes Series. She starts every day taking her blue and tan dachshund for a stroll around the neighborhood. Fresh beach air and natural beauty begin the day right. After her walk, Genie makes a cup of coffee and sits by the dining room doors to watch the squirrels and the birds for a few moments of peace. After clearing her head and enjoying nature, she's ready to create universes and spin dreams... Genie St. Claire lives in Florida with her family. She enjoys studying history, murder mysteries, bicycling, writing, needlework, painting, reading, traveling, strolls on the beach, and long nature walks. As well as clean and wholesome romance, Genie St. Claire writes spicier contemporary romances, romantic suspense, and historical fiction under the pen name Tori Lennox. Tori Lennox's romantic suspense Toxic Illusions (previously titled Twisted) was a finalist in the Valley Forge Romance Writers Chapter of the Romance Writers of America.

Book preview

Prologue

Isle of Mull, Inner Hebrides, Scotland

Jackson, go away. Bishop glanced at the man entering his study. I came home for a reason.

One that didn’t include entertaining his best friend’s lapdog attorney.

I know. Jackson’s tone conveyed that Bishop’s reasons didn’t impact his duty one way or the other. He was doing his job,  even if that meant catching the Red Eye three thousand miles to the middle of nowhere. While I regret interrupting your working vacation, an emergency requires your attention.

Right. Bishop set his document aside. A hangnail is dire in Abby’s book, so her emergency isn’t necessarily mine. What prompted her to send you to my doorstep uninvited? I don't want to witness the happy event if she’s decided to marry Alfonse anyway.

A brilliant businesswoman, Abby wasn’t as discerning when it came to men. A deceptively charming snake, her ex-fiancé was an unrepentant cad. He’d suspected it from the start. She hadn’t. Abby was devastated to find him in bed with his married assistant three months before their wedding. She’d ended their relationship on the spot. Bishop silently prayed that his old friend hadn’t taken Alfonse back although he wouldn’t put it past her.

Throwing herself into designing her newest collection was all that saved her the first time. He doubted that trick would work again. As annoying as she could be, Abby was a faithful woman who deserved a faithful man. If things were different, that might have been him. They weren’t, so it wasn’t. Shaking the thought, Bishop decided as often as he’d indulged his friend in the past, he wasn’t up for her dramatics right now.

Not when he was taking his first real break in several years. Or what passed for a break with him. He still put in sixteen-hour work days the same as always. The major difference, the meetings were virtual instead of face-to-face. While he missed the constant globe-hopping, there was something to be said about staying in one place for a few days. He was enjoying the natural beauty of Mull. Though he’d never admit it, he enjoyed visiting his dysfunctional family on the mainland as well. Or he had until Jackson showed up to interrupt his peace.

I wish it was something that foolish. Jackson poured two fingers of expensive single malt before walking across the room to settle in the leather wing chair across from his quarry. You’ll need that before we’re done. Watching the other man set the proffered glass on the coaster beside him, the attorney sprang the news he’d come to deliver. Abby’s dead.

Dead? Blanching, Bishop automatically drained his glass. She was fine when we talked last night.

More than fine. The woman was aggravatingly upbeat to the point she wouldn’t shut up for two hours. He was late for a family dinner. However, it wasn’t all mindless chatter. She’d brought him up to speed on her newest designs, the parties he was missing, the gossip he should know, and the professional rumors he might find interesting. Giving credit where credit was due, she’d turned him onto a couple of potential takeovers he might pursue. Sometimes Abby was a godsend. Or she had been.

Yes, she was. Jackson agreed. Fine and healthy. Unfortunately, Abby decided to ignore the warnings not to drive after dark. She hit a patch of black ice near her cabin, went over the embankment, and plowed through several trees on the way down. She was dead before the second impact.

I don’t know what to say. Bishop studied his empty glass. Who’s taking care of her businesses?

Hopefully, none of the estranged relatives now circling her coffin like a kettle of vultures waiting to pick her bones clean.

You are. Jackson set his drink aside. She left everything to you with a caveat.

Why? Bishop’s eyebrow rose at his statement. That doesn’t make sense.

He didn’t want or need anything Abby had. She knew it. He could easily buy her out a hundred times over on his worst day without denting his fortune.

It makes more sense than you think, but you need to read this for the facts to gel. Jackson slid the envelope across the desk knowing his friend needed to see, rather than hear, the shocking revelations within. While I’ve never read the letter, I know the general contents.

Tearing the seal, Bishop skimmed the handwritten page.

I have a child? He looked up in total disbelief. Why didn’t Abby tell me as soon as she knew?

He could think of a million reasons none of which excused a betrayal of this magnitude.

I can’t answer that. Jackson couldn’t divulge what he didn’t know. I can tell you Sofie’s not just any child. She’s a bright, beautiful little girl who looks more like Abby than you. Staring at Bishop, Jackson was suddenly hit by the thought something was wrong with his reaction. Why aren’t you questioning paternity?

Why would I? Bishop stared him down. We had an encounter close to six years ago and the child is five. The timing is right. Besides, we both know Abby wasn’t a liar and she didn’t need my name or money. So, I’d say it’s highly unlikely that girl was fathered by anyone but me.

Added to that, Abby wasn’t casual in her affairs. Not unless you counted them. The same free spirit that soared through her work didn’t apply to her personal relationships. The woman was faithful to a fault. She’d never cheat on a lover much less her fiancé. Unfortunately, Alfonse didn’t feel the same. The rock he’d put on Abby’s finger didn’t curtail his wandering ways nor did his hasty exit ease the gaping hole he’d left in her heart.

That seeping wound was part of the reason she’d acted so out of character that night. They both had. They each needed the comfort the other offered for vastly different reasons. One very personal, the other professional. That they were briefly involved in college made it easy to tumble into bed together. They were only going where they’d been before. As simple as it seemed then, they both felt differently in the light of day.

But not conclusive. Jackson gently reminded him. You haven’t asked for proof.

You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have proof. Bishop called his bluff. Abby wasn’t seeing anyone when we got together. She was still too raw from Alfonse’s betrayal, and too wrapped up in designing her new collection to come up for air. It took me two weeks to convince her to attend that party. I dropped her back at her studio the next day after brunch like nothing happened.

Sounds like Abby. Jackson snorted at how well they both knew the woman. It was easier to live in her creative fantasies than in the real world. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t cut out to be a mother.

Maybe. Bishop agreed. I don’t think that matters now.

It doesn’t. Jackson decided to drop the paternity test now that it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t want Bishop questioning how they’d acquired a DNA sample in the first place. It wasn’t difficult, but it wasn’t voluntary either. Although your daughter goes by Sofie, her full name is Sophia Danielle Peterson and she turned five two days ago.

I see. Bishop quirked a brow at him. Where is she and who is she living with?

Not one of Abby’s relatives or he wouldn’t know of her existence.

A small town in North Carolina. Jackson removed a photograph from his briefcase and laid it on the desk. The woman is Aila Peterson, her adoptive mother. She’s a divorced nurse practitioner working in a doctor’s office. From the look on his face, Bishop found that unacceptable. Don’t get that judgmental look. Sofie is well-loved and well-provided for. Her mother takes her to school every morning and picks her up from daycare after work. They do her homework together every night. Don’t think for a minute that child doesn’t come first. She does, and she always has. Never doubt that. Aila is devoted to Sofie.

How do you know that? There was more to this than met the eye. Abby didn’t have someone watching them?

I handled the adoption. Abby and Aila bonded over her pregnancy since Aila worked for her obstetrician. They became close. Jackson knew sharing this wasn’t wise, but he’d received a letter outlining his client’s final instructions as well. Aila sent Abby updates through me several times a year. As strange as this seems, Abby never regretted her decision to give her child to another woman. While she loved your daughter, she had no desire to be a mother. She believed Aila was best for Sofie, and she was right. From what I’ve seen, the woman is a wonderful mother.

Far better than a workaholic father and a stream of nannies. Bishop bluntly stated what Jackson wouldn’t. Maybe; but that doesn’t excuse Abby’s actions. I had a right to know about that child. To be in her life from the start. To hold and love my child as a father should.

Unfortunately, things didn’t work out that way so get over it. Jackson was firm even though he agreed with the ruthless businessman sitting across from him. Those years are lost. Accept it and move on. Love your child now as you would have then. Trust me when I tell you there’s more than enough love in that little girl’s heart for a mommy and a daddy. She’s a precious, precocious child her mom won’t mind sharing.

You’re right. Bishop laid the letter aside. Arrange a meeting with this Aila person next week at a place of her choosing. It’s best if it’s a neutral, nonthreatening location. I’ll meet my daughter after I’ve determined my next step.

Don’t even think about taking that child from Aila. Jackson finished his whisky. From where I sit, that would be the worst possible move you could make.

He’d help Aila stop him if he tried.

I’m not entertaining thoughts either way. He was still too busy trying to get his mind around the fact he was a father in the first place. If it makes you feel any better, I only want to meet them. See how they interact. I’ll decide my next move from there. I will ask that you keep what you know between us. If there comes a point the world needs to know about Sofie, I’ll make the announcement my way.

The last thing he wanted was the press descending on his daughter and her mother when they weren’t prepared for the nightmare.

I can do that. Jackson agreed setting his empty glass aside. Well, as interesting as all this is, I have a flight to catch in a few hours. I’m in court in a couple of days handling a messy divorce and I’d like to fire on all cylinders. I’m coming against Cindy Gallagher. She’s hell on a good day. She’ll be worse on this one. The cheating wife she’s representing is her younger sister, so I have a real fight on my hands.

While Bishop had never met the woman, her reputation as one of the nastiest divorce attorneys in New York preceded her. He didn’t envy Jackson one bit. The woman didn’t play fair, so he was in for a mud-slinging battle.

Yes, you will, and I wish you luck. Bishop stood to shake hands with the other man. You’ll need it. However, I am going to ask you to do me a favor and arrange that meeting before you get sidetracked by your favorite opponent.

I’ll call Aila as soon as I arrive at JFK. Jackson agreed, knowing Bishop was right. While he and Gallagher were evenly matched, he had to stay on his toes if he wanted to win. That meant less important things could unintentionally fall by the wayside. I’ll call you with her response.

I’ll be waiting. Waiting and reading the contracts on his desk. Oh, and Jackson, I expect my request to be favorably received. If it isn’t, you can assure Ms. Peterson I will take stronger measures to ensure my next offer is.

Catching the other man’s nod, Bishop watched him leave and close the door behind him. Reaching for the 8 x 10 professional photograph, he studied the cute, snaggle-toothed child and the surprisingly attractive woman embracing her. While Sofie took after him in her coloring and curly hair, she had her mother’s features and eyes. However, there was no denying his child would be a tall, olive-skinned, mahogany-haired teen by the time she reached puberty. In fact, as startling as it was to see, his daughter resembled her surprisingly pretty, ebony-haired adoptive mother more than she did the coolly beautiful blonde who gave her life.

Locking the photograph away in a drawer, Bishop sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. Although he promised Jackson otherwise, he wasn’t comfortable leaving his child with that woman. He’d already lost too much time with the only offspring he’d ever have. That was a situation he’d remedy as soon as possible. He didn’t have a choice. The feelings welling inside him were both unexpected, unfamiliar, and impossible to ignore. He wanted his child as much as he wanted his next hotel acquisition...possibly more.

Grabbing his phone, Bishop dialed his assistant and smiled when she answered on the first ring. Hanging up a few minutes later, he turned back to the contracts on his desk confident that Connie was in hot pursuit of her newest assignment. He didn’t doubt he’d have four exceptional nannies of the mature, compassionate, no-nonsense variety from which to choose when he returned to New York. In the end, he would have the best of the best. He had that much faith in his right hand. She was thorough with her assignments. He expected her to be extra diligent with this one. He’d told her to interview potential candidates with the same care she’d use for her grandchildren. His final command had done the trick.

Connie would be merciless in her quest even if she had the wisdom not to ask why he’d made such an unusual request. She likely thought he was helping a new business associate settle in. That was fine by him. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done something like that. It wouldn’t be the last. All that mattered was she never considered that nanny could be for him. The longer Sofie remained a secret, the more time he had to prepare for when she wasn’t. He was under no illusion he could hide her existence forever.

Chapter One

Taylorsville, North Carolina

Staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Aila applied lipstick before making a disgusted moue. There wasn’t much she could do about her appearance. Jackson called her at work to demand they meet as soon as possible. She’d known something was off. Something more than the sudden death of her daughter’s biological mother. However, Abby’s death shouldn’t impact her life beyond the loss of a dear friend. The adoption was legal and aboveboard. Airtight. Or it should be. Something in Jackson’s tone said it wasn’t.

In all the years she’d known him, Abby’s lawyer had never asked to meet on the spur of the moment. He’d always scheduled their appointment weeks in advance. Since their last review was less than three months old, there wasn’t any reason they needed to meet so soon. Nothing good anyway. Straightening her black suit jacket, she ambled into the reception area only to be met by Jenny with a file in hand.

Following the paralegal towards the familiar office, Aila resisted the urge to ask the other woman what this was about. As curious as she was, she knew better than to waste her breath. Jennifer wouldn’t betray her boss’s confidence by telling his client what was better coming from him. Sitting in her usual chair, Aila watched the other woman lay the file on Jackson’s desk and quietly depart the way she’d come. Sitting in silence, she waited for the lawyer to join her.

Good morning, Aila. Jackson swept through the door, took his seat behind his desk, and opened the file Jenny left him. I’m sorry for disturbing you like this, but Abby’s death changed the playing field.

How so? Aila leaned forward in her chair. We both know Sofie’s adoption is legal, so any relative crawling out of the woodwork doesn’t have a leg to stand on. We went through all the right channels to ensure that.

Right down to Abby leaving a will clearly stating her nutty family couldn’t have any contact with her biological daughter until she came of age. Not unless Sofie reached out to them first. Aila didn’t see that happening any time soon. Her daughter was a happy, well-adjusted child who knew she was both given and adopted in love.

Yes, we did. Jackson agreed. However, dotting those i’s and crossing those t’s didn’t have anything to do with Sofie’s father.

Sofie’s father? The blood drained from Aila’s face. That creep doesn’t care two bits about his daughter.

The creep didn’t know he had a daughter to care about. Jackson calmly informed her. Abby never told him she was pregnant.

You can’t be serious. Aila’s heart dropped to her knees. You are. What does that mean for us?

Nothing right now. Jackson stated honestly. Sofie’s father’s name wasn’t on the birth certificate initially. That paperwork was amended since Abby’s death, but Aila didn’t need to know that. I’ve convinced Bishop not to do anything rash until he knows more about you and his daughter.

I guess that’s something. Aila leaned forward. So, how do we let him know more about us?

By meeting him. Jackson laid the file on his desk. He wants to meet you as soon as possible. Not Sofie. Just you.

I see. Aila sat back in her chair deep in thought. I’m not sure I like that. While you seem to know this Bishop well, I don’t even know his full name.

I’ve known Bishop for years. Jackson admitted. Although I didn’t know he was Sofie’s father until Abby died. He was my client in New York back at the beginning. Aila knew Jackson was licensed in N.C. and his home state. She’d learned that during the adoption process. We parted ways once his business outgrew my realm of expertise although we’ve stayed in contact over the years. I wouldn’t have Kincaid without him. Bishop’s recommendation sealed the deal.

Putting the pieces together, Aila realized Sofie’s biological father brought Abby to Jackson as a client just as Jax later brought Abby to her boss when the woman relocated to Taylorsville.

So, you aren’t friends. Aila saw any help from that direction swiftly dwindling away. I was hoping you were.

Not close, no, not anymore; but we do respect each other a great deal. Jackson offered. If it makes you feel any better, Bishop knows you’re a good mother. He also knows I think taking Sofie from you would be the worst possible move he could make.

Thank you, Aila spoke quietly. I appreciate that, and I hope he takes your advice. Right now, neither of us has a clue what he’ll do, do we?

I don’t believe you have anything to worry about on that front. Not unless she blew their meeting. Bishop isn’t prepared to raise a child now or in the foreseeable future. Managing his empire takes all his time. It has for years. That’s probably why the man doesn’t have a wife and family.

Empire? Aila closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Exactly who is Sofie’s father, and do I want to know?

Maybe not; but you need to. Jackson pushed the file towards her. Don’t go ballistic when I show you this.

I won’t, She promised. That won’t get me anywhere.

Not really. Jackson agreed. While I won’t tell you the circumstances of Sofie’s conception, I will tell you her father’s identity.

Then do it. Aila knew she didn’t want to know by the look on his face. Just spit it out.

Fine. Jackson agreed. Sofie’s father is Nolan Bishop and, yes, that Nolan Bishop.

The hotel magnate? Aila fervently prayed it wasn’t. You’re kidding me.

I wish I was. Jackson patted her hand. From your reaction, I see you’re familiar with the name.

Who isn’t? Aila fired back. He dates up-and-coming models and starlets.

Or they date him. Jackson said quietly. Don’t let the gossip rags influence your opinion of Bishop. None of those relationships are serious; his partners know the score from the start. He’s a lot like you in that department. He is too busy with his professional life to develop a personal life. That he wants to slow down enough to build a relationship with his daughter is a good sign Sofie matters to him.

I’ll trust you on that one. Aila blinked back tears of frustration. He’ll make my life hell if I don’t cooperate, won’t he? The confirming nod wasn’t necessary. Between you and me, I don’t like this, and I won’t let Bishop toy with Sofie. He’s either permanently in her life, or he doesn’t get a foot through the door.

Jackson laughed softly. Bishop was clueless about what he stepping into. Aila would fight for her child even if she didn’t stand a chance of winning. With any luck, she and Bishop would work through their differences. Somehow, he thought they would, although they might butt heads from the start. In fact, he expected it. The sparks were already flying. However, they weren’t unreasonable people. They would quickly find a compromise for their daughter’s sake. If they didn’t, he’d verbally knock some sense into them.

I’m sure you’ll make that clear at your first meeting. Jackson’s voice cut through her thoughts. One he’s expecting to happen between the eleventh and the fourteenth wherever you choose.

Excuse me? Aila wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be offended. This Bishop seriously expects me to jump at his command? I don’t think so.

It’s not like that. Jackson backtracked realizing he’d used a poor choice of words under the circumstances. Bishop isn’t commanding you do anything. Yes, he was, but Aila didn’t need to know that. He would like to meet you as soon as possible. Those dates are the only days he has free for the next three months.

If he’s that booked up, how will he ever find time for Sofie? Aila wondered at the wisdom of meeting him at all. It doesn’t sound like he has time for a child.

He’ll make time. Jackson reassured her. Right now, he has several major deals converging. The best advice I can give you is to work with the man. It’s in your best interest to cooperate. Bishop is very wealthy and powerful. He’s used to getting what he wants, even if he has to take it. Meet him halfway. He isn’t autocratic or rude. His bluntness is more necessity than outright arrogance. You’ll see that the longer you know him.

Wonderful. Aila wondered briefly how she got herself into this mess then realized she didn’t. Abby did. By not telling the father of her child she was pregnant. Again, I’ll take you at your word. I don’t think I’ll sleep a wink until this meeting is over and I know that man isn’t taking my child.

Right now, that won’t happen. Jackson repeated. I’ve told him you’re a wonderful mother and Sofie is happy. When he gets to know you, he’ll see I wasn’t lying. In the end, I believe you’ll reach a joint custody solution that works for both of you.

I hope you’re right. Aila glanced at her watch realizing her lunch hour was almost over. I have to leave soon, or I’ll be late for my next appointment. Tell your client we can meet on the eleventh at Sadie’s. It’s a Wednesday night. The place won’t be that busy. It will also give me an extra day to digest everything since the office is closed on Thursday.

Forget the norms, Sadie’s did a steady business all week. But Thursday through Sunday they were swamped. If they wanted any privacy, then their meeting had to be on Wednesday. Whether she wanted it or not.

Works for me. Jackson agreed. I’ll give Bishop a call and let you know his response. Are you available another day if the eleventh doesn’t work out?

Any of those days is fine for me. Aila admitted. Just let me know as soon as possible so I can make arrangements for Sofie.

I’ll do that. Jackson closed her file before looking at her. Aila, keep your chin up. This isn’t as bad as you think it is.

We’ll see; it may be worse. Aila rose to her feet, not surprised when Jackson