Alpha Billionaire Series

GAVIN

The highway wasn't nearly as congested as I thought it would be when I set off this morning. I'd left plenty of time fo traffic and would likely be arriving much sooner than I had originally planned, but for an unplanned visit—at least or their end—time wasn't really that concerning. What was concerning was the tense pressure in my chest to get this right.

“You're where?” Nick's voice came across the speaker in my car loud and clear. He called hoping to meet up for a game of hoops and I had already left my house.

“I told you, I'm on Highway I0 headed north.” The hands-free unit kept me focused on the road and able to enjoy the conversation.

“Where are you going?” I heard the basketball bouncing in the background, which meant Nick was likely on the court already.

“Headed to Madison's parents’ house.” A grin stretched across my face just thinking about my mission. I didn’t even know if Madii had told them about me, and it had been such a short time, but I knew what I wanted.

“Ah, I see. Hey, Madii!” Nick bounced the ball a few more times.

“Nick, she’s not in the car” I chuckled at his mistake.

“Oh! Ooooh! Snap. You're going to talk to her pops about getting hitched?”

Now he was getting it. I couldn't help feeling giddy. Madison had no clue what I was doing, and I wanted to keep it that way. I'd scheduled my day off but told her I had surgery that would last all day. She'd expect me to be at the hospital and never try to contact me. I was home free. It seems that some sentences in this chapter require you to read the complete chapters on J o b ni b.com in order to avoid an incomplete reading experience. “Wow, man. Congrats. I had no idea it was that serious already.” I heard the ball thunk off the backboard and then smack the ground.

“Thanks. So yeah, I can’t really play basketball today. But maybe on Tuesday after work.”This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“Yeah, sure... Hey, Gav, do you think this is moving too fast?”

Nick had never been the voice of reason. Usually, I relied on Jiles to be that for me. In this instance I was a bit surprised but not entirely. He was right. Madii and I were moving fast, but it wasn't like we had only known each other the I0 weeks we'd been dating. We had taken the past I8 months to get to know each other as friends.

I knew she liked her yogurt with granola on the top. I learned that over a few breakfasts next to Drew. I knew she liked listening to music while she read books; I'd seen her do that plenty of times. I knew her mother and her had a difficult relationship, but that she loved her father more than anything. The only thing I didn’t know was how she fel about her sister—Violet if I recalled the name correctly.

“No, it's not like we're getting married today, I'm just asking for her dad's permission to propose. We could end up with a two-year engagement.”

“Or you could jet off to Vegas tomorrow.” Nick laughed and snorted. “Dude, you're crazy. After that last bitch did you like that, and you're jumping into this so fast. I gotta hand it to you. You really do take risks.”

“Not going to happen. Listen, I'm nearing my exit, so I have to focus. I'll shoot you a call later”

“Good luck,” Nick replied, hanging up.

Did I need luck? I was a successful neurosurgeon at one of the biggest hospitals in the state. I had two doctorate degrees and worked my ass off to get what I wanted. I had patiently waited for Madison to choose on her own that she was ready to move on, and even then, I waited for her to take the lead, despite my gut urges to take the lead myself. I didnt need luck.

One-hundred miles of highways, state routes, and back roads, and I pulled into Hampshire, Louisiana. I was tired of being in the car, but not quite ready to stop by Madison's parents’ house yet. So, I saw a few of the sights. Visited the quaint coffee shop first and picked up an espresso. Then I strolled through the town square, trying to get a feel for how Madii must have grown up.

After driving past the local school and through a few neighborhoods, I got myself in the right mindset. I drove to the Springer’s and parked in front of their house. It was an older Victorian style home with a porch that wrapped around the front, and a round Portico near the corner where a swing hung. My eye was drawn to the massive tree in the backyard of the next-door property where a treehouse had been built. It made me smile to think maybe Madii had grown up climbing that tree.

I stood there facing the house staring up at that old tree when a voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Can I help you?”

I turned my gaze in the direction of the voice and saw Madison's father standing there holding a spindle that looked like it had been tooled recently. She hadn't mentioned that her father liked woodworking, but we hadn't spoken about her parents much anyway. He was a stout man, full beard and striking black hair with a little salt-and-pepper look around his temples.

“Mr. Springer?” I didn’t have to ask if it was him, because he'd come to the hospital more than once early on to comfort his daughter.

“Do I know you?” His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in thought.

I held out my hand and walked toward him. “Dr. Gavin Carpenter, sir”

He shook my hand as the recognition washed over his expression. His eyes lit up. “You're that doctor from New Orleans. What the hell are you doing here?” He shook my hand vigorously and smiled. “So nice to have you. You com right on in here and we'll fix you up with a glass of lemonade.”

“Thank you, of course.” I followed him into the house, and he pointed to the couch.

“Just take a load off. I'll get the Misses and she'll bring us some drinks. We can talk about what brought you up here. I sat and took in the sight. Wood paneling adorned the walls, covered in picture frames hung meticulously. The old couch was plaid, the stuffing worn and the colors faded—well-loved for years I assumed. The carpet near the entrance was threadbare in places, decades of foot traffic and maybe even a few pets. The home that Madii grew up in was growing on me. It felt like home instantly, more so than the marble palaces I grew up in—a new one every few years.

After what seemed like forever, Mr. Springer returned. It appeared he had washed up a bit and put on a fresh shirt. His hair was combed, and he was followed by Mrs. Springer. I rose to greet her, offering to take the tray of lemonade and tiny finger sandwiches she'd brought out.

“All this for me?” I grinned, setting it on the table. She blushed.

“Not too often we get a fancy doctor out this way.” She nodded politely and sat, and Mr. Springer and I followed suit. “What brings you?” Leaning forward, she poured three glasses of lemonade and served them up, pointing at the snacks. “Eat up.”

“Thank you.” I sipped the lemonade and picked up a sandwich. It looked like white bread with cold meat and American cheese stacked together and cut in small triangles, toothpicks holding it together. I wasn’t picky. I wasn't here to judge her family on their hospitality, I was here to confess my love for their daughter and ask for her hand in marriage.

“Let's cut to the chase, son. Is there something we need to know?” Mr. Springer looked concerned, and that was not at all what I had intended for him to feel.

“Absolutely not.” I chewed the sandwich quickly and swallowed, washing it down with a drink. “Mr. and Mrs. Springer...”

“Please call us Dave and Becky.”

“Yes, of course. Dave, I am here because I've been seeing your daughter.” Dave's eyebrows rose and he looked to his wife. “I am sure you're probably shocked. I don’t know if she even told you or not.”

“No this is the first we've heard of this” He sat a bit straighter, and when I looked at Becky, she was sipping her lemonade, her expression of shock hidden behind the rim of the cup.

“Well, I am deeply in love with your daughter, and I would like to ask for her hand in marriage.” I leaned, elbows on knees, and folded my hands. That comment drew a gasp from Becky, who choked on her lemonade and had a coughing fit. Dave scrubbed a hand down his face and sat back in his chair. He stared at the ceiling for a minute, ignoring his wife gasping for breath, and took a deep breath. His large belly rose and fell slowly.

“Well, Dr. Carpenter—"

“Please, call me Gavin.”

“Okay, Gavin,” Dave started, sitting up and matching my posture. We sat across from each other in a stare down. “I have a major concern here.”

I didn't let him ruffle my feathers, but it wasn’t the answer I was hoping for initially.

“What's that?”

“Don’t you think you're a little bit old for her?” Dave raised an eyebrow, his shoulders squaring a bit as he stared at me. “I mean, you're what, 40? And she’s practically a baby still. You've probably been married and divorced and she’s still figuring out what she wants in life”

I stared at him, baffled by this sudden onslaught of questions. He went from not even knowing his daughter was dating someone to questioning our entire relationship based on my assumed age—which he had gotten wrong on th first guess. And he had done it in under two minutes.

Careful to compose myself so I didn't make the wrong impression I said, “With all due respect Mr. Springer, Madison is hardly a baby. She's 28, and she’s a very strong woman. It takes the resilience of a warrior to walk through some of the things she’s had to shoulder and if that isn’t proof enough, then I fear you may not know her as well as perhaps you should.

“And I am 38 years old, never married. I live alone and I work hard. My dedication and devotion to Madison hasn't wavered in the now almost 20 months I've known her. We developed a friendship that is very strong, and as of the past three or four months, I've grown to love her more deeply than I can even express. I don't feel age should be a factor in the decision.”

I held my breath, waiting for his reply, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Becky cut him off. “Dear, listen to the man.” I looked at her pleading eyes. She appeared on the verge of tears while still smiling. “We have prayed day and night for someone to come along and help Madison live again. If she is happy, then who are we to intervene?”

“But Becky... How do we know this guy isn’t some kook?” Dave was a protective father—a quality I valued greatly. “Would a kook drive all the way from the bayou to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage?” Becky stood and held her hand out. “Welcome to the family, Gavin. I believe if you are as honorable as you seem, then Madison will be ven happy with you. And I really look forward to getting to know you better over time.”

I held Becky's hand in mine gently, pulling it to my lips for a kiss as I stood. Dave joined us, standing with his stout belly protruding. He had a look of apprehension, one side of his mouth drawn up in thought. But he thrust out his hand.

“If you break her heart, I will hunt you down. You hear? She's been through enough.”

I had to stifle the chuckle that threatened to escape. The stereotype about dads in the Deep South being very protective over their daughters was not in any shape or form a lie. I looked at Dave and wondered if I would feel the same way when I had a daughter of my own.

“l wouldn't dream of it.” I shook his hand, the pact between me and him that for all intents and purposes, Madison was mine. Now I just had to convince her that I was what she wanted forever.