Billionaire Wedding: Brooklyn's Baby (Interracial Billionaire Wedding Romance) ( Contemporary Taboo Alpha Male Wedding Romance) Read Free Page A

spending more time fixing up the building than fixing up cars for customers.
    Mercedes had been a small child of three the year the two brothers had opened up the garage. She could remember the day in detail. Although she doubted that the memories were her own – rather they were collections of stories told by her family since the opening of the garage had been talked about so often by her family that she could recount the stories as though she herself was recalling the day. It had been a proud day for her family. Her immigrant grandparents swooned over their American-born sons who had opened up a business in Brooklyn. “Today we are living the American dream!” her grandfather had said, in Spanish of course, but Mercedes recollected the tale in her first language. “This is America! This is what it means to be Americans!”
    Mercedes smiled at her grandfather’s naivety. The happy memory stung slightly when she compared it to her current situation. She exhaled heavily and turned to her other side, facing the wall so she would not have to look at the photograph on her uncle’s desk any longer. The heavy workload from the day slowly started to press down on her; she felt a heavy aching in her shoulders. She breathed steadily, praying that she would be blessed with sleep as quickly as possible.
    She yawned and stretched out her legs. There was too much on her mind, it seemed: the loutish bartender, the broken window, her eviction, and old memories encircled her.  Slowly her eyes became heavy, and at last Mercedes was able to drift off into what was to be a difficult sleep.
     
    ***

 
                  A bit of light trickled into the office from the window above her uncle’s desk and Mercedes sat up and groaned. Her back ached from sleeping on the concrete floor. She rubbed her temples and assessed the intensity of her hangover, deciding that it could have been a lot worse given the previous night. The headache was fairly minimal, and she did not feel as though she would vomit. “I guess I can call that a success,” she mumbled, still unwilling to stand for she was certain that her legs would be sore from the concrete. She yawned and stretched out her arms, hearing her shoulder crack slightly from the motion. The night before seemed almost like a nightmare, but she knew it had been her harsh reality.
                  “What the hell!” she heard her uncle’s voice booming from outside of the garage. He probably saw the picked lock sitting on the ground. “ Alborotadors . Who the hell did this?” Mercedes heard the screeching sound of the garage door being opened, followed by Tito’s frantic searching for evidence of missing merchandise. He was probably thinking that he should have listened to her about the old lock.
                  Before Mercedes could stand up from her seat on the ground, Tito came fleeing into the office. She assumed it was to check the safe - not that there was a significant amount of money locked away in there anyways. Upon seeing her sitting there on the concrete ground, he acted almost relieved at first, glad that a thief was not the one to have picked his crappy lock. “ Gracias a Dios ,” he mumbled and leaned against the doorframe of his office, his hand on his chest to let Mercedes know that she had about given him a heart attack. They certainly could not afford a break-in right now. Tito was not the same man he had once been. He had always been the taller and stronger of the two brothers, despite being younger, but now he looked a bit shriveled up as he entered into the latter half of middle-aged. He had not aged gracefully with his thinning, gray hair and he extensive wrinkles making him look much older than he actually was. “Mercedes,” he groaned, “what are you doing here so early?” He looked down at her, taking note that she was curled up in his jacket next to the seat cushion she had used as a pillow.
    There was little chance she could