Page 118 of Most Eligible Billionaire

“We didn’t even need him. I just got off the phone with Malcomb. Her lawyer contacted him about terminology questions for papers for signing off ownership for a dollar. I underestimated the powers of the Henry Locke dick.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The company. She’s giving it back. For a dollar. And you’ll be happy to know that I smoothed everything over with Denny. We own a parcel of land up north that the Woodruffs want for something. Small price to pay for keeping him quiet about a dog and Vonda O’Neil on our board because please, that would be a disaster.”

My mind reels. She’s giving it back for a dollar?

“You deserve an Academy Award, brother. We don’t even need the competency hearing now.”

“That’s not—”

My words die out as his face drains of color. He’s looking over my shoulder.

“Competency hearing?”

I spin around and there she is, hair still wet, but she’s dressed. Except for the naked pain shining in her eyes.

Her voice shakes. “Competency hearing? Operationgood cop?”

“It’s not what you think.” I go to her.

“Get away from me!” She pushes me. “All that was an act?”

“Of course not!”

“What’s operation good cop? Is that a thing?”

“It was,” I begin. “A stupid thing.”

“What’s the competency hearing? Is that also a stupid thing? Ahearing?”

I exchange glances with Brett.

The wounded look in her eyes kills me. “You were going to put me on trial? For competency?”

“That’s not how it is.”

“You said you trusted me.”

“I do trust you. I was going to call it off.”

“But it’s still on. As of now.” She searches my eyes. “Is it still on? As of this moment?”

My heart feels like it’s cracking. “I was going to call it off.”

“Please, just say. Is it still on? As of now?”

“Yes. Technically it’s still on.”

“Technically.” She snorts. “And all this time, were you guys gathering evidence? To destroy me?” She holds up a hand when I take a step toward her. “Awesome performance. I guess that’s one thing Brett and I can agree on. It was absolutely award winning. Bravo.”

“I wasn’t performing.”

She grabs her purse and her jacket and heads to the elevator door, then stops.

I stop behind her, heart pounding. Is she reconsidering? Remembering what’s between us?

“Vicky,” I say.

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