Page 128 of Return Billionaire to Sender

“Don’t say it,” I say, meaning her messed up love saying.

“I wasn’t gonna,” she says. And then, “If you could do it all over again, would you still come clean with him?”

“Yeah,” I say. “He deserved to know. Kicking us out like this, it’s not who he is deep down. He’s a good person with a beautiful heart.”

“Oh, come on, just say it, Noelle.” She turns to me. “You loved him a little bit.”

I stare down at my hands, pink polish starting to chip. “No,” I say. “I loved him a lot. I loved that man a whole freaking lot.”

Francine sighs and lays her head on my shoulder. “And now it’s too late.”

“Yeah,” I say. “If only he could see the truth of it all.” Then, “Wait, what?” I sit up, dislodging Francine’s head.

“Hey,” she says.

“Screw that,” I say.

“What?” she says.

I stand. Everybody’s looking at me now. “I have to go,” I say. “I have a message to deliver. A truth bomb. To Malcolm Blackberg.”

“But the weather. It’s sleeting, out there,” Jada says.

“Severe storm warning,” John says.

“You’ll never get an Uber in this mess,” Francine says.

“People!” I put up my hands. “Think who you’re talking to.” I run up and grab my raincoat and the rain visor I sometimes use on my route. I head down and make Francine give me her bike keys.

I ride, flying past snarled traffic, sleet and rain pelting my cheeks. I know the exact route to take. This is my town.

I get there in no time and lock up.

Blackberg, Inc.’s fortress isn’t so daunting this time around. I push in the doors, head around the black marble boulder, and march right up to the executive elevator. A pair of people regard me with suspicion. Maybe it’s because I’m sopping wet. I don’t care.

“You need a lanyard for this elevator,” the man says.

“Like this,” the woman says, showing me her own lanyard. But they’ve already used theirs to call the elevator, so I don’t really need one.

“I’m going up there without one,” I inform them both.

The man looks over at the security guard, who seems distracted. He could alert him, but he doesn’t. He’s responding to the conviction in my voice, I think.

When the elevator door opens, I stroll right in, like I own the place. I stab the button for the sixth floor. “Floor?” I ask them.

“Fifth,” the man says, all scowly.

“Same,” the woman says, joining him.

I hit five. The elevator begins to move. We ride in awkward silence.

“You need a lanyard,” the guy says.

I ignore him.

Lawrence is at the front desk when I get off. He straightens when he sees me, looking pleasantly surprised. “Elle,” he says. “Umm… Hi!” It’s pretty obvious that he knows my secret—I wasn’t a real coach. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“I know, right?” I say. “Is he back there?”

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