Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires)(6)


Dusting my hands off, I walked to my car and glorified in my decision to get out of this weird pen-pal exchange. Was it really pen-pal, if I could never reply?

Would I have replied?

Biting my tongue, I jumped into my car and fled the scene. I drove as if everything might explode behind me, some violent fireball from an action movie.

I'd made my choice.

No one could stop me.

Not even him.





- Chapter Four -


Alexis

Monday arrived, just as wet as the rest of the weekend had been.

The rain had been coming down all morning. I'd been smart enough to bring an umbrella, the purple material turning slick from the downpour. Even so, as I darted across the parking lot and into my workplace, I couldn't avoid the puddles.

Observing my soaked ankles and flats in dismay, I hurried through the doors and sighed. Did that dumb orange cat really have to be right about Mondays?

The downtown building was large, brushing the clouds where it stood. Inside, multiple businesses rented sections for their own purposes. The tiny plaque inside the elevator indicated my destination—the twentieth floor.

Fixing my frizzy hair, I stepped into the publishing house of Salvador and Goldheart.

The wide room was a crisp eggshell color, dotted with overly green plants; most were fake. The soft hum of people flipping papers or talking about current projects was a constant white noise.

If I looked closely, I could see many of my fellow employees were half-asleep in their chairs. We ran the fashion magazine known as Velcro. I mean, as a secretary, I didn't exactly run much of anything. Not my dream job... but it kept me busy, and it helped pay my bills. What else mattered?

“Oh, Alexis!” Laralie was dressed in her usual style; tight black hose, red pumps, and a skirt that hugged her curves in a way I envied. She eyed my muddy ankles pointedly. “Still raining?”

Grinning good-naturedly, I shook my umbrella out. She stepped back, making sure she didn't get splattered. “Yeah,” I said. “Still pretty wet. What's going on?”

Running her fingers through her short, angular black hair, she nodded over her shoulder. “You've got to come see! You're a little late, but I'm sure there are some left.”

“Some left? Some of what?” Draping my coat on the back of my chair, I glanced at the phone. I was relieved nothing blinked at me; no missed calls. “I should really get to work, Mr. Salvador will lose his mind if he doesn't see me sitting here when he shows up.”

“He's already here.” She ignored my look of fright. Beaming, she gripped my elbow and tugged. “Just come on! Some food would be good for you. Unless you already ate?”

On cue, my stomach rumbled. “This is about food? Alright, you win.” I hadn't eaten breakfast, so if there was something waiting for me, how could I turn it down?

Following her through the office, we took a sharp turn into the backroom. It was where we ate our lunches if we decided not to brave the busy streets of downtown Portland.

Laralie was blocking my view, so I couldn't see what was resting on the round table. I did spot the three other women who were hanging out and chatting, their hands gripping what looked like paper liners.

The vanilla scent was hitting me hard, my stomach cramping with hunger. I realized what they were eating; cupcakes. “Is it someone's birthday?”

Trying to make room for me to pass, Laralie said, “Don't think so. No one's sure who brought them.”

“What?” I asked. “I don't get it, how can no one know—” My words died on my tongue.

Stuffed inside a large pink box were five cupcakes. There had clearly been more, but even with the empty spots, the display looked decadent.

They were squat, fat little things topped by metallic frosting. I'd never seen such beautiful designs on a cupcake before. The paper wrappings glowed, brilliant as moonlight.

On top of every cupcake was a small, elegant letter S.

“Don't they look beautiful?” someone said. It was hard to hear them, my ears felt swamped with water.

“Alexis?”

In a daze, I looked over to find Laralie staring at me. Her pretty blue eyes were wide with concern. “Alexis, are you okay? You look pale. Here, eat something!”

She offered me a cupcake, and I nearly slapped it from her grip. “Sorry!” I stammered, hands held high. “I don't—I mean—” My skull was pulsing, pushing my eyes forward so they bulged.

Laralie frowned, lowering the cupcake. “Maybe you should get some air.”

Grabbing the door-frame, I nodded. “Yes. Air. Right.” With a nervous look at everyone watching me, I darted out of the room. My flats were damp; I slipped on the tiles, grabbing onto the wall to stay upright.

Calm down! Just relax!

But how could I?

It was one thing to find mistaken packages in my mailbox. Here, where I worked... what did it mean?

Laralie was right, I needed air. I needed to think. None of this made sense. S must have noticed I wasn't taking the gifts, which I'd wanted. But instead of giving up and finding the right person's address, he'd sent something here.

But it's not meant for me. It isn't. It just can't be.

The elevator 'dinged.' The doors spread, but I didn't step inside. The cupcakes are for someone else. I kept clinging to that as a fact. And since it had to be true, it meant one of my coworkers was Pet!

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