Page 97 of Rival to the Billionaire

I turn off my engine and step away from the bike. Immediately, I pull out my cell phone and speed-dial Quentin's number…and get a recording.

"It's me," I say. "Can you meet me at the police station? I'm in trouble."

"Off the phone. Now!" the cop orders.

He puts his hand on his gun and stalks over to me. I stop talking, putting the phone down out of reflex.

The cop walks up behind me and searches me. When he's done, he begins to put handcuffs on me, and I finally let it register. I'm deep in shit.

The cop pushes me towards the police car, where a fellow officer is waiting. They both shove me in the backseat, and I keep my head down as they close the door.

"We're taking this idiot to the station," he tells his partner. "Gonna tell them he was drinking—he was way over the limit. He's been causing trouble tonight with his reckless driving."

"Hey, I told you I wasn't drunk," I protest. "And I haven't been driving recklessly."

His partner only shakes his head. "We'll see." The first cop gets in the driver's seat, and with the siren blaring, they pull away.

Well, I'll be damned. I wanted to get my thoughts off of Jenny and put some distance between us.

Looks like it's working a hell of a lot better than I thought.

* * *

JENNY

Derek looks at me over the expensive oak surface of his desk. He's got his perfectly tailored suit on, his shiny black shoes, and his perfectly done hair. He looks like a million bucks...and he's scowling at me like I'm an animal he brought in from the pound.

At one in the morning, I am the very opposite of that. My curly red hair hasn't seen a sleeping wrap or bonnet in days. My teeth still have spaghetti bolognese in them. And I'm wearing the unicorn pajamas that Ryder bought me on our Vegas trip.

I never got the chance to wear them while we were at the conference. In fact, I didn't wear much of anything at all. But now, they're a comforting reminder of how I didn't throw away my chance to be happy. And they're my armor in the face of Derek's disapproval.

Calling for a meeting in the middle of the night is just asking for trouble, no matter how much I need to have this conversation with him. Good thing Derek Anderson has a personal policy of working all hours.

Standing, he begins to pace against the windowed backdrop of a sleepy, dark downtown Seattle, his hands in pants' pockets, his blue eyes surprisingly alert as they look over at me. "So, what you're saying is you were wrong about Ryder. You were wrong to not trust him, and you were wrong to pull me in behind you."

I nod. "Yes, sir. I was completely wrong."

"So, you have no excuse for what you've done?" he asks.

"I do." I wince. "But it's not a very good one. I just…I pre-judged Ryder. I wanted to see him as reckless, impulsive, and myopic. And I refused to see the good in him."

"So, you admit that he's not the person you thought he was," Derek says.

"Yes, sir."

"And that you may have tried to sabotage him because of your own personal feelings toward him."

"I guess so."

"And you'd like to keep Ryder in the position of Chief Technology Officer?" he asks, raising one eyebrow at me.

"Absolutely." I nod quickly. "He's…he's really great at his job. Upon further review, it turns out the Ultimate Reading app is one of the best that I've ever seen, and he's got so many ideas for all of the other apps too." I wait a beat, a sudden realization hitting me. "The company needs him. We need him. I should have worked harder to support him. I should have worked harder to show my colleague that I would listen to him, trust him."

"Ryder is often underestimated. It's good to have someone who is clear-eyed supporting him." Derek nods. "Now, about the company."

His fingers steeple in front of him.

"I'd played along with your 'deal' with Julian Sabado to see just how far you'd take it. And when you were practically setting everything up to fire Ryder, I knew you were in over your head."

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