Page 131 of Return Billionaire to Sender

“I followed the money and I tracked him down. He tried to tell me that the gift card scam was your idea, but I could see clear as day how it worked.”

“You punched him.”

I lean in. “Nobody steals my girl’s lunch money.”

Noelle squeezes my hands, and it’s everything. “I can’t believe you punched him,” she says.

“Not that I plan to make a habit of punching people—”

She puts on her witchy face, and it does something to my body—to my whole freaking soul. She says, “Empathy skills definitely not in evidence.” Then she leans in to kiss me. I haul her body to mine and kiss her for everything I’m worth.

I can feel her smile through the kiss. A million different plans for us spin through my mind. The way we can spend this night. The way we can spend the weekend. Things we can do. “Let’s get out of here,” I rumble.

“Wait, what about my peeps? We have to tell them before they tear apart any more stuff.”

“What do you mean, tear apart?” I ask.

“Do you have your car? Is it near?”

I pull out my phone and text my driver. Five minutes later we’re in the back seat of my car. Rain pelts the roof and creates rivulets in the windows, lit bright with the kaleidoscopic colors of Fifth Avenue.

“So, holiday celebrations and theme songs are stupid?”

I pull her into my lap and kiss her. And we’re stuck in traffic talking about everything.

I tell her what happened with my dad. I update her on Germantown. She catches me up on her life back at work and a strange project that involves tiles and cheese trays. She fills me in on gossip about the building, including Maisey and John. People in the building have been playing cupid—a bit too much, according to her. “But they have time now,” she says.

Eventually we’re there. The lobby looks like somebody took a sledgehammer to it. People are gathered around some sort of desk, some sitting on boxes. From the looks on everyone’s faces, they’d like to take a sledgehammer to me.

Clearly the courier isn’t there yet.

“You guys! I want you to meet Malcolm,” Noelle says. “And before you say anything, there’s no more eviction. In fact…” She waves the papers. “We’re going condo!”

Her friends gather all around us. People are wary, but if there’s one thing I know how to handle, it’s wary people. I walk them through the papers.

“Whoa!” Mia says. “This is amazing.”

Kelsey is the first to grab and inspect the documents. I know all of their names at this point, except for the drunken woman with short blonde hair, who I suspect was the cameraperson.

Maisey comes up to properly introduce herself. “We sincerely appreciate this.”

“I’m sorry for what I put you all through,” I say.

“We’ll be fine,” she says.

“How do we know you won’t change your mind again?” John rumbles, coming up next to Maisey. In person, he’s everything that I thought he would be.

“Once you sign it, it’s binding—a binding contract. I can’t change my mind again. And I’ve already signed it, so the ball’s in your court.”

Francine, the dancer, reads over somebody’s shoulders. “These are generous terms,” she says. “Thank you.”

“We’ll need to have a lawyer look at it,” Antonio says.

“I’d suggest it,” I say. All they have to do is stay there and pay their rent a few months more, and they own it. But they have options to get out of it, too. It is very generous.

Somebody shoves a plastic cup of champagne into my hand. A little dog in a bow tie comes up and barks at me, and everybody seems eager for me to pet him, so I do.

Francine comes up to me. “Thank you, Malcolm,” she says. “Welcome.” She sticks out her hand and we shake.

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