So Far Away (California Dreamers #2) by Dakota Madison Read Free Book Online Page A

Why even make reference to her gender at all?”
    “Why do you have to be like that?” Officer Jackson fires back.
    She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “Be like what?”
    “So politically correct all the time.”
    “ Politically correct ,” she spits. “Try being a female in a male dominated profession. You wouldn’t last one day.”
    He rolls his eyes at her. “Don’t be so melodramatic.”
    “It’s not melodrama . It’s the truth.”
    It’s so odd to see two police officers bickering so much with each other. I clear my throat to get their attention.
    They give each other the stink eye before they turn back to me.
    “I am the person with the cat,” I admit. “I work for Jackson Drake. His personal assistant. This is his car. I was running an errand for him. I lift up the plastic bag with the office supplies in it.”
    “Do you know why we pulled you over?” Officer Navarro asks.
    I shrug.
    “You were driving too slowly.”
    My eyes go wide. “I didn’t know that was possible.”
    “Hazardous driving,” she explains.
    I gulp. “I’m sorry.”
    “We can let you go with a warning this time. Just make sure you keep up with the flow of traffic.”
    “I will,” I assure her. “Thank you.”
    As Officer Jackson opens his mouth Officer Navarro points a finger right at him. “Don’t say another word. We’re done here.”
    “Fine,” he spits. He looks anything but. He’s shooting daggers at her.
    I decide it’s time for me to make my exit. I roll my window back up and start the car.
    The officers are still glaring at each other as I pull away.
    Wouldn’t it be interesting to be a fly on the wall inside of that police cruiser?

 
    Three
    When I get back to Jackson’s house I notice there’s a white Mercedes parked right out front. That couldn’t be Earl’s car, could it?
    It would take buying a grocery store’s worth of extra food every week and selling it to afford a vehicle like that.
    When I try to open the front door it’s locked. I guess whoever owns the car out front also decided it was a good idea to lock the front door. Luckily I have a key.
    As I enter the foyer I hear noises in the kitchen. Someone is definitely in there making something.
    Maybe it really is Earl.  She’s definitely someone I want to meet so I head towards the kitchen.
    As I round the corner I slam right into a guy walking in the opposite direction carrying a ham sandwich.
    He’s young, black, and very attractive.
    My first instinct is to panic because I have no idea who he is or what he’s doing here, but he looks just as shocked to see me as I am to see him.
    And if he didn’t belong here what would he be doing casually strolling around eating a ham sandwich?   
    “You’re not Earl,” I observe. My face heats with embarrassment because he’s obviously not Earl, but that’s what popped out of my mouth. 
    “What was your first clue? I’m not old. I’m not short. I’m not round. I’m not a woman. And I’m not white. I’m definitely not Earl.”
    His dark eyes are like lasers as he stares into mine. A wave of chills ripples right through me.
    “Who are you then?” I somehow manage to squeak out.
    “Who are you?” he fires back.
    “I’m Jackson’s assistant.”
    “I’m Jackson’s son.”
    His response hits me like a concrete block to the head. “Jackson doesn’t have a son.”
    “Do you want to see my birth certificate?”
    I’m completely confused. “Jackson and his wife never had children.”
    He nods, but doesn’t say anything else. He just stares at me.
    After a long moment the realization hits me. Jackson must have had an affair at some point that resulted in a pregnancy.
    With all of the research I did on Jackson before I started this job how did I not know about his son? He’s not mentioned in any of Jackson’s online biographies, or in any of the articles that have been written about him.
    How was it possible to keep him a secret?
    After he takes the