Page 77 of Most Eligible Billionaire

Screw it. I do.

More than trust her—she’s making me feel things I haven’t felt in years.

And I trust her on that strange promise. Things will be restored. Made right with the company.

Was there a side letter from Bernadette? Something binding her to silence? More messing with me from the grave?

I go right up to her and kiss her. Latrisha doesn’t seem to approve of the PDA, but I do.

We get to work. I find myself watching Vicky when she’s not looking. Waiting for her to smile. I watch for her face to light up when she likes an idea. When she doesn’t like something, she tips her head and narrows her eyes, like she’s not quite seeing it. Not getting the person’s vision. So diplomatic.

My favorite is when our eyes meet and she straightens her glasses in that sexy, I’m-looking-at-you way that she uses to put an underline under our silent agreement.

My phone pings. Brett.

Can u talk?

I can. I don’t want to. Being here is like a vacation from myself. The Henry Locke extravaganza. But I see that he’s called a bunch of times.

I get up and wander to the lounge area, which is the one genuinely shabby part of the place, and call him.

“I’ve been trying to call for the last hour,” Brett says. “Our PI got back.”

The PI. “Right.”

“Listen to this—it’s fake. Extremely professional, extremely expensive, extremely fake identities.”

I stop and turn. “Does he have proof of this?”

“He’s getting it. It’s involving bribes at a federal level. There are no photographs of the two of them online prior to seven years ago. He thinks she might be connected. The ID is mob-level good. This is a five-alarm fire.”

“Mob? No. She’s not connected. She’s not a con. I'm telling you,” I say.

“Has our guy ever been wrong on a case?” Brett asks. “Has he? No. Never. Pull your head out of your ass. She posed as a pet whisperer and bilked an old lady.”

“She’s giving the company back.”

“Oh, she told you that?”

“In so many words.”

“She’s giving back the company. But did she do it? Did she draw up papers?”

“I think there’s more to the will. I don’t know. She’s not in it for the money.”

“Are you kidding me? Wait. You’re sleeping with her.”

“No, I’m telling you what is.”

“Dude. You don’t even know her name!”

“There could be lots of reasons an ID might be false,” I say. “She could be running from somebody.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Screw off,” I say. “It’s under control.”

“Is this part of good cop? Is she there or something?”

---