Page 45 of Return Billionaire to Sender

He smiles, and it does something to my insides. I’ve never been near a man so magnetic—his pull is nearly physical.

“What is it that you want, little country mouse? If it’s not money.”

“For you to watch this video,” I say.

“That’s not what you want. Tell me what you really want. Let’s find a way to get you what you really and truly want.”

For a second, I’m tempted to tell him—I want you to spare the building. Please, please, please don’t knock it down.

“There must be something,” he says.

I say, “I want you to watch this video with complete attention. And an open heart.”

He’s studying me with keen interest. “It can’t be just that.”

“I want you to see these people. Really see them,” I say.

He grins like I must be joking. Anger rushes over me—anger that this man has our fate in his hands and it’s all a big joke to him. Anger at myself for lusting after him in spite of it all, like some naive schoolgirl. Anger that I find him sexy even now.

“It’s got to be something more,” he says. “Tell me.”

I realize that I don’t have to answer his questions. I’m the coach, right? I meet his gaze with a hard stare. “If we don’t get back to the video,” I say, “you’ll be in danger of missing your appointment.”

He looks amused. He looks extra gorgeous when he’s amused, like he’s lit from inside. “So you’ll just leave it on the table?”

“Leave what on the table?”

He blinks, as though my question defies comprehension. “Yourtip,” he says.

“Well…that wasn’t a tip, it was a bribe,” I say. “I suggest you refrain from further bribery attempts. Now are you ready to get on with it?”

He studies my face, still with that glint of humor, and slowly his eyes fall to my neck.

My cheeks heat with shame.Country mouse, he called me. Why didn’t I listen to Francine about the bow tie? I’m sure he thinks I have a collection of creepy dolls with eyes that never close now.

My heart thuds.

Is he going to figure me out? Will he realize I’m a fraud and kick me out onto the streets of San Francisco…or worse? Oh my god, what was I thinking?

Even the way he’s looking at my butterfly tie now—he knows I’m out of my depth. He knows he has all of the power.

“No more questions?” I ask—or more, plead.No more questions.Pleeeease no more!That’s what it sounds like in my head. I move my finger near the “Play” button. I need for him to watch it, and then I need to get away from him so that I can think straight.

“Hmm,” he says, like he’s pondering, but I’m sure he’s just saying that for the pleasure of watching me sweat. Maybe he’s trying to get into my head like Nisha warned. “And will we get any more letter carrier wisdom?” he asks suddenly. “Or is that part over?”

I sit up, grateful that he’s brought me back to familiar ground. There’s nothing I can’t overcome to deliver the mail, obstacles large and small. I can do this. And I know everything about being a letter carrier.

I cross my arms. “As a matter of fact, Malcolm, this is a perfect time for some letter carrier wisdom. Thank you for that idea. I have a little quiz for you.”

13

Malcolm

“A quiz,”I say. “I didn’t know I’d be quizzed on the material.” I cross my arms, still reeling from the fact that she turned down so much money. From what I reviewed of her background, she doesn’t come from money. She grew up in a hardscrabble rural Pennsylvania town. She worked as a letter carrier while attending the local community college, graduating with a degree in psychology.

Exactly how much are they paying her? More than sixty thousand? Does she get a bonus at the end? Is she a better negotiator than she appears to be?

That wasn’t a tip, it was a bribe.She really seemed surprised.She’s impossible, and so fucking delicious. And her program—it’s a hundred percent ridiculous. And now she has a quiz?

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