Page 281 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

I got out of my seat, curious as to why he’d bother hiding this call when he clearly detailed an upcoming hostile takeover Stingray is making to the CEO of the company Zach’s going after.

I pressed my ear against the door and didn’t understand the language spoken on the other side. It sounded a lot like what they were speaking in Kola Kitanabu, though I’m no expert.

Occasionally, though, Zach wouldn’t know a word, and so I’d catch an aural glimpse of the conversation. At first, this wasn’t all that helpful, but when the English words hewassaying shifted from regular parts of conversation to numbers and acres it started becoming clear.

I kept my ear against the door until Zach unwittingly confirmed what I’d suspected: he was calling someone in Kola Kitanabu, or at least someone with some influence over the area. Most of the conversation was impenetrable, but I’d heard enough.

When he came out of the back, he nearly caught me spying on him. Fortunately, I have cat-like reflexes and the instincts of a ninja. Okay, the phone call ended, and I may have flailed my way back to my seat before he opened the door separating us. But that’s not anywhere near as inspiring.

When I tell Naomi about it, I think I’ll stick with the cat/ninja thing. Ooh, I like that: Cat Ninja.

At first, I was more upset than anything. From what I’d gleaned, he was talking to someone about the rainforest around Kola Kitanabu. While a big part of me was glad he’d listened, the rest of me just took it as confirmation that he still believed the only thing between him and my affection was that he hadn’t thrown enough money around for my benefit.

When I asked who he was talking to on the phone, though, he said it was the chef. Zach said he was just giving his old friend a thank you call for the exquisite beachside dinner. That’s all he’d say about it.

That’s when I decided to give him a real chance.

To tell the truth, I probably would have had a hard enough time keeping up my defenses. You don’t talk about price-per-acre with a chef.

Now, I’m almost to work and, as I round the final corner, my stomach drops.

A large crowd is standing in front of the shop.

Ever since that day in the hotel, people around town have been giving me dirty looks. Even though no one, least of all me, got a job from Zach that day as far as I know, they think it’s my fault nobody was hired.

As I get closer to the group in front of the store, though, something happens. Everyone starts smiling.

Almost in unison, somewhere between eighty and a hundred people say my name.

I don’t know what they want, but at least they look happy.

Coming closer, I start wondering if I should turn and get out of here, but the people in front of me move to the side, creating a path for me to get to the door.

“Good morning, Grace!” someone behind me says.

“It’s a beautiful day, don’t you think, Grace?” someone else chimes in.

I couldn’t respond if I knew how. As soon as I open my mouth to thank someone for complimenting my outfit or to say, “Good morning,” back to someone, somebody else is trying to get my attention.

Finally, I make it to the door, and I’m a little worried about what’s going to happen next when I turn the unlocked knob. Everyone’s very respectful, though. Somebody holds the door open as I walk through, and despite my certainty of my pending demise, I’m not trampled on the way into the shop.

The people follow me into the store, but so far there’s no visible threat of violence.

I make a quick stop to the office to let Troy know I’m here, but it doesn’t look like he’s in there, though his antique phone is off its cradle.

“Troy?” I ask.

“What’s happening out there?” Troy’s voice comes back to me, though he’s still nowhere in sight.

Furrowing my brow, I walk around the desk and find him in the leg space beneath it.

“Hey there, fella,” I say. “If you’ll come out from under there like a big boy, I’ll give you some ice cream.”

“What the hell is going on out there?” Troy asks, his eyelids forming two nearly perfect circles. He’s sweating.

“I have no idea, but I don’t think they came here to break anything,” I answer.

“How do you know?” Troy asks.

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