Born to Be Wild by Patti Berg

other things he’d wanted to do, like make Philippe’s dream of opening a place where kids—underprivileged or underloved— could hang out. Max owed his life, everything he’d become to Philippe, so he’d poured all his energy, all his time into Born To Be Wild until he had the money to open the Hole in the Wall. The Hole was still his pride and joy, but when Jamie and Ryan came into his life two years ago, his entire focus changed. Thankfully his friends had stepped in and took over the day-to-day operation of the Hole.
    There hadn’t been time for a steady woman in his life. Of course, if he continually treated women the way he’d treated Miss Palm Beach, no one would ever want him.
    The kitchen phone rang and Max grabbed it, aiming the remote control at the CD player again to turn down the volume.
    “Born To Be Wild,” he answered, and for one brief moment hoped that Lauren Remington was on the other end, because he wanted to work out their differences.
    “Hello, Max.” The deep male voice definitely didn’t belong to Lauren—it belonged to the investigator he’d hired to find Charlotte and Zack—and his disappointment surprised him. “How ya doing?”
    “Fine. Any news?” Max hated the silence at the other end of the phone. The last time Harry had been this quiet, he’d called to tell Max that after six months of looking, he’d found some information on Max’s brother—and the news hadn’t been good.
    “I might have found Charlotte,” Harry said, “but don’t get your hopes up.”
    “You killed any hope I had of finding Zack when you told me he died in a car fire. I still have hopes of seeing Charlotte again, so whatever you do, don’t tell me she’s dead, too.”
    “All I’m trying to tell you is that I found a woman named Charlotte Wilde. She may or may not be your sister.”
    “Where is she?”
    “Phoenix. I’m heading there on Tuesday to check her out.”
    “Have you talked to her?”
    Silence again, until Harry’s sigh reverberated against Max’s ear. “I talked to the woman she lives with.”
    He hated the way Harry beat around the bush. “And?”
    “She’s... she’s slow. Mentally challenged.”
    “That’s impossible. She was perfectly fine the last time I saw her.”
    “She was four when you saw her last, and from what I’ve been able to find out, you can’t always detect someone’s mental capabilities that early. But like I said, she may not be your sister.”
    Max hadn’t seen his baby sister or his younger brother in twenty years, not since their mother had dumped Max on one of her old boyfriends and disappeared with Zack and Charlotte—who she’d eventually abandoned somewhere in California. He wanted to find Charlotte desperately, but he hadn’t bargained for this.
    “Tell me about her,” he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “What does she look like? How old is she?”
    “She’s twenty-four. Black hair. Brown eyes.”
    The scant description was correct, but that didn’t mean much. “What else do you know about her?” Did she still like to dance and sing? he wondered. Was she still pretty?
    “I don’t know a thing. The woman she lives with was evasive. That’s why I’m heading to Phoenix. I can’t tell you anything more until I see her and try to talk to her. And like I said, this may or may not be your Charlotte Wilde. It wouldn’t be the first time I thought I’d found someone, only to learn that I was way off base.”
    “I want to find my sister. I want to see her,” Max stated. “I don’t care what shape she’s in. If the woman in Phoenix is my sister, I want to know about it—even if you think I shouldn’t be told.”
    “Don’t worry, Max. I’ll call you Tuesday night, no matter how bad the news might be.”
    Max pressed his fingers to his temples after he hung up the phone. He’d spent a lot of years looking for his family and found only his mother, a woman who didn’t want to see him, a woman who had