“You know how it is.” She actually batted her lashes. The woman was always throwing herself at him. It made him wonder if she was so aggressive with everyone. “Same old, same old.” She resettled herself, propping her generous cleavage atop the arms she’d folded on her desk. “Hey, I’ve got a pair of Cyclones tickets for tonight. Interested?”

It was abundantly clear that it wasn’t minor league hockey she was interested in. Cade had to admit he was tempted. He liked hockey and he loved cleavage. And after listening to Richard bump and grind for four fucking hours, he’d earned a little fun of his own. “Maybe.” He returned her flirtatious smile with one of his own. “Do you come with them?”

More eyelash batting. “I do.”

“Give me your number. I’ll call you if I can move some things around.”

Rising fluidly, she leaned forward, giving him an even better view of her very impressive rack, and wrote her number on the back of one of the nursing home’s business cards. “My cell.”

Cade slipped the card into his shirt pocket. “I’ll call you,” he promised with a wink, then set off for his father’s room. The nursing home was a lot nicer than the place Cade would have picked out for the man who’d given him nothing but bad memories. Unfortunately Konrad Kaiser had known how much his son hated him and had prepared for this eventuality by securing his spot at the home himself. He’d placed all of his money into a trust, going so far as to specify his nursing home, hospice, and funeral arrangements, too. After his death any remaining funds, including the sale of the Kaiser family home, were to go to his church.

And, having been an attorney, he had made sure the trust was unbreakable. Cade could not touch one penny. He’d tried. Several times.

Which was why he’d opted to leave his father here in this nursing home, in his semivegetative state, where strangers changed his diapers, rather than finishing the job. I’d be a suspect for sure.

A nurse was exiting his father’s room as Cade approached. She was new, young, and hot. Far hotter than the receptionist. “Can I help you?” she asked cautiously.

“I’m Cade Kaiser. Konrad’s son.” This was the only place that knew his real name. He hated that, but it was unavoidable.

The nurse smiled at him. “I’m Nurse Jillian. I’ll be working with your father. The other nurses mentioned that you visit on Saturdays. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I know I’m a little late today,” Cade said, feigning apology. “How’s he doing?”

“The same. But I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. Have a good visit.”

Bullshit. His dad hated it when he visited. That was why Cade never missed a Saturday.