Page 22 of Return Billionaire to Sender

“I guess,” I say.

“You are so cute.” Francine pushes her red glasses higher on her nose. Her silky black hair is still in her ballerina bun. “You are such a Girl Scout.”

I cringe.

“It’s what I love about you!” she adds.

I snort, feeling my face redden. I lean back against the dresser, wringing my hands. “Seriously, how long can I pull this off? The Bexley people might be figuring it all out right now, as we speak,” I say. “And then they call Blackberg? Or Stella? How willStella feel about all this? Probably not a hundred percent. Oh my god, what am I doing?”

“Don’t worry, Stella sounds like a serious fuckup,” Lizzie says. “Trust me, I’m a boss. It’s hard to get good help. They’re not going to expect her to call right in. And do you think she’ll answer if the office calls? You think Stella wants to talk to the bosses that she hates? Probably not.”

“Probably not,” I echo.

We’re waiting for Willow to arrive. Willow is going to try to hack into Bexley Partners’ intranet and get the packet. Our little caper is moving really fast.

Lizzie comes over and grabs my hands. “Breathe,” she says. “You did so amazing in there. And we would never want you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“Idowant to do it,” I say. “I really meant it when I said it—if he saw enough of the footage, it would change his heart. Nobody could watch that and not have a change of heart—I really believe that. And I do have way more than four weeks of vacation time stored up. My boss is on me to take it. I’ll lose it if I don’t use it. I just don’t know…”

My friends stay silent. They would never push me into something that I’m uncomfortable with.

“I really do want to do it,” I repeat. “But the whole plane ride and everything—I honestly don’t think I’m capable of pulling this off. I feel like any one of you all could do better. Or Mia or Tabitha—one of those two could totally pull it off.”

“Don’teven.” Francine says. “Seriously? Dude! Yesterday none of us could even get in talk to him. We’d all given up. And what did you do? You went and maneuvered yourself into a position to force Malcolm Blackberg to watch twenty freaking hours of us talking about our building.” Francine jabs a finger at me. “Youdid that—not one of us,you. You see yourself as such a shrinking violet, always following the rules and never taking too much, but deep down, you’re a fighter. You just don’t know it.”

“Twenty hours. I barely pulled off twenty freaking minutes. I felt like they were going to figure me out at any moment. I’m a terrible liar. And he already thinks the training we did is bizarre.” It’s not just that. It’s him, too—the overwhelming handsomeness of him, his scathingly sexy accent, his gaze, hard and sparkling at the same time, suffused with intelligence.

“It sounds like he thinks it’s part of a plot to punish him,” Lizzie says, her glossy light brown hair shining in the afternoon light.

“Well, true,” I say.

“So he’s made a story for himself about why the training makes sense,” Lizzie says. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“They throw me in jail?” I say.

“Doubtful,” Lizzie says. “They’d kick you out and we’d buy you a plane ticket home. Don’t forget, I worked in PR—trust me: nobody wants that news story. Think of it—a girl trying to save her home gets mistaken for the corporate coach and goes with it. And they fall for it? They would look like total idiots. Imagine if you last a few days—they would be a laughingstock, and it would bring negative publicity to their project. No guarantees, but I don’t see you pressing license plates in Leavenworth. And worst case, if they did bring charges, who would convict you? You’re alone in the world. You found this family. Trying to save your building.”

“Agree,” Jada says.

“You’re probably right,” I say. “But I could lose my post office job—there’s that. We are held to a certain code. I can’t go around on my off hours being scammy.”

Everybody’s silent. They know how much I love my job with the USPS.

But then I’m thinking, for the umpteenth time, about how I backed off of the fight with my mom’s insurance company too easily. I so regret not fighting to the end. And this is my family now—theseneighbors of mine at 341 West 45th are the most important part of my life, though I might not ever confess that out loud to them. Because, pathetic much?

“However,” I continue, holding up one lone finger in the air, “you knowmy favorite motto—through rain or sleet or snow...”

Lizzie claps.

Francine rubs my shoulders like I’m a prizefighter. “You got this.”

Antonio pumps his fist in the air. “Forza!” he says.

I turn to Jada. “How many hours of that damn footage do you have? And don’t forget, you have to edit me out.”

“Will do!” she squeaks.

Lizzie gets a text. “Willow’s here. Willow to the rescue!” She grabs a key card and heads out to get her. Willow Drummond is the sister of Lizzie’s famous chemist husband, Theo Drummond, aka Lizzie’s sister-in-law. Willow runs her own technology firm.

---