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Wet Dreams: A Billionaire Romance by Emily Bishop (33)

Chapter Four

Shane

I loaded up my truck and got distracted by the smell of coffee wafting from the diner next to the hardware store. I thought that I deserved a scotch after having gone another round with the girl next door, but coffee would do, too.

Try as I might, I couldn’t figure out the chick from the hardware store. Apparently, being a gentleman and trying to help her out was a mortal sin in her eyes.

It figured that the one time I tried to be a gentleman, the girl would take offense and decide that it was because I thought she couldn’t do it herself.

Truth be told, I wasn’t sure that she could. But I hadn’t said anything. Those boxes were heavy, and the shelf was way beyond her reach.

My phone buzzed just as I placed my order. Bart’s name blinked on my display. I paid quickly and slid into a booth that offered some privacy.

“Bart, give me good news, man,” I answered.

“An update okay instead?” he asked, sounding flustered.

“Sure thing. Shoot.” My stomach was tied in knots about the explosion, and it killed me that the best thing I could do under the circumstances was to take a step back.

“The EPA is running a full investigation, Shane. The preliminary wasn’t conclusive.” He didn’t offer a reason about why the preliminary had been inconclusive.

“Why not?”

He didn’t answer immediately. “They need more information to wrap it up, I guess.”

“Okay,” I agreed. I had to trust my right-hand man. He would tell me if there was anything else that I needed to know, even if my gut was telling me something different. “What’s happening on your side right now?”

“They’re interviewing employees at the moment,” Bart told me. “The board will be next, so watch your phone.”

“And then?”

“They’ll interview maintenance people and suppliers, I would imagine.” He sighed.

“What have they found so far?” Bile was rising in my throat as I asked. My lawyers were not painting a happy picture in the event that Perkins Enterprises was found to be at fault.

Burrows was quiet again. “Not much from what I can discern.”

“From what you can discern?” I asked incredulously. “This is our fucking future, Bart.”

I whispered the last part but no one was paying attention to me anyway.

“I get that,” he snapped. “I can’t tell you more than what I know.”

“And this is really all you know?” I knew that I had to trust him, but there was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I trusted Bart with everything that I had in me, yet it felt like something was off.

Even so, I had to distance myself. At least for the course of the investigation. It had been my decision to do it, and I followed through on my decisions. If there was something that he wasn’t telling me, it was for a good reason.

I trusted less than a handful of people who had ever been born. One of them was my mother, who had passed away a long time ago. Bart was another. He had been with the company for so long that I couldn’t imagine not trusting him. I had been skeptical of him at first, but he had never steered me wrong.

Swallowing my misgivings, despite my better judgment, I tried to listen objectively to his answer. “Yes, Shane. It’s really all I know.”

Trust him, I chided myself. “What are we looking at, if worse comes to worst?”

“Worse isn’t going to come to worst,” he assured me.

“Don’t try to handle me, Burrows. Your hands aren’t big enough.” His tone didn’t sit right with me. “I’m not your boss’ fucking son anymore. I am your goddamn boss.”

Most of my employees respected the hell out me, but some of the old- timers had to be reminded from time to time.

“I know that,” Bart seethed quietly.

I inhaled a deep breath, trying to control the sudden urge to fly home to Houston and take control of the situation myself. My voice changed when I spoke again, the command of a man in control and who had been raised to be ringing clearly. “Then level with me.”

“If worse comes to worst, there could be penalties,” he said.

“Penalties? How much? Is there a statutory cap?”

“Millions,” he breathed, as if it pained him to say.

I made quick calculations in my head. “We can withstand that.”

“Not the kind of millions we’re possibly looking at.” Getting straight answers from him today was like pulling teeth from a goddamn chicken.

“So, not only millions then?” I queried.

“It depends, Shane.”

I controlled the ball of rage in my stomach. “I told you to level with me, Burrows. You’re my fucking employee, even if you are the president. I’m keeping out of this. I haven’t spoken to the lawyers since I left because I thought it was the best for the company. But if you won’t fucking level with me, guess who my next call’s going to be?”

“Shane.”

“I’m not kidding, Bart,” I growled into my phone.

“Not millions, no. Billions possibly,” he finally admitted.

“What do the auditors say?”

“No projections we can share yet,” he answered.

I breathed hard. I wasn’t quite sure why he couldn’t share them with the fucking CEO of the company, but I reminded myself once again that distance was what was best. “So, massive motherfucking penalties, is that it? Are we facing anything else?”

He paused. “Possible criminal sanctions.”

“Criminal sanctions? You’re only telling me this now?” The vein in my head threatened to explode.

Bart’s simple answer nearly gave me an aneurysm. “You only asked now.”

“I only...” I inhaled, the edges of my vision red. “I only asked now? Is that honestly the best you’ve got?”

I cut Bart off as soon as he started talking. “Fuck distance, I’m coming home. I’m calling Eric in five. Have the board assembled by tomorrow morning.”

“No! No, Shane,” Bart jumped in. “That would be a mistake at this point. All the board members have already given public statements about how proud they are of you for fully immersing yourself in an internal investigation, and they will repeat that in their interviews with the EPA. You’re better off staying where you are.”

Something tugged at my gut. “Should I be concerned about this investigation?”

“No. Absolutely not, Shane.” Bart’s usual confidence and bolster was back in his tone. “I’ve got everything under control on this end. You keep sending over whatever you can find and relax.”

“Order number seven,” the barista called from the counter. “Number seven, you’re up.”

That was me. “Okay, thanks, Bart. I’ll do that. Keep me in the loop.”

“Of course, you just leave it me. Don’t worry.”

I was worried, but not about Bart. He would keep me updated. The EPA, on the other hand– and the fact that they had launched a full investigation– didn’t sit well with me.

I had been trying to keep the investigation clean. I had nothing to hide, and reaching out to my contacts would make it seem like I did. I was seriously tempted to call my guy in the agency as I was collecting my coffee.

“Hey,” a voice called as I stepped onto the sidewalk outside of the diner. “Aren’t you the guy who came into the store last week?”

I recognized the owner of the voice as the guy who had come into the hardware store the week before, just after I’d been asked to leave.

He was tall and lean, casually resting with his shoulder against the wall with a cigarette dangling from his lips. Tousled black hair fell over his whiskey-colored eyes.

“You mean me?” I jabbed a thumb at my chest, and he nodded, running his eyes over me like he was sizing me up.

I wondered if he was the girl from the store’s boyfriend. Maybe that was why she was so stand-offish with me, because she didn’t want to be caught being friendly with a stranger when her boyfriend might walk in at any moment.

I wasn’t very familiar with jealousy, but it was definitely the bitter feeling swirling inexplicably in the pit of my stomach. Then, a slow grin spread on the guy’s mouth as he motioned me over.

“You’re new in town, right?” he asked, not sounding like a jealous boyfriend at all. In fact, if anything, he was overly friendly and looked like he was settling in for a chat. I remembered that people from Mystic were like that sometimes.

“In a manner of speaking,” I answered, trying to get a read on the guy.

He was standing right where my truck was parked, so I unlocked it and got the engine going to cool down the interior before I got in.

“Way to be vague, dude,” he said, watching me closely but still grinning.

“I only got in a little under a week ago, but I’ve been here before.” I didn’t want to give too much away. There was a lot of bad blood toward my father in town, and a small matter of an EPA investigation to bear in mind.

“Cool. It’s a great town for a vacation.” He nodded at the supplies on the back of my truck. “Fiona mentioned that you were building a boat.”

Fiona. So that was her name. It suited her. Fiona.

“Yeah, it’s a hobby. I figured I’d spend some time building a new one while I’m out here. Perfect boating weather and all.”

“That’s true. You chose a great time of year for that. So, you’re a boating hobbyist, too, huh?” He stared out over the water for a second before adding, “Small world.”

I had no idea what he meant by that, but it made sense that a local like him would be into it. “You build, too?”

“Nah, I’ve never had much patience for building the boat before I could get on it.” He chuckled. “Or get with someone in it.”

“It does take a singular kind of patience to get it perfect, but it’s always worth it in the end,” I agreed, avoiding his second comment.

I built for me. It was too personal a hobby as far as I was concerned. I had never shared anything that I’d built with anyone but my parents.

“Yeah, the patience is more Fee’s thing than mine,” he said, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his boot.

Jealously roiled in my stomach again. “So, she’s your girl? Fiona?”

That earned me a hoot of easy-going laughter that didn’t let up for a full minute. He managed to shake his head while the laughter subsided. “Fuck no!”

“What’s so funny about that?” I asked.

The girl had a mouth-watering body and a heart-stopping smile. Fuck, I’d only known her a week, and I’d already fantasized about her. It didn’t seem like a stretch that a guy who worked with her would be involved with her.

“Fiona’s been my friend since we were born, and my best friend since she moved here when she was seven years old. She’s like my sister, which would make hooking up with her incest. So, no, she’s not my girl. Not in that way.”

The knot that had been forming in my stomach relaxed. At least the one relating to jealousy did. The EPA investigation was still weighing heavily on me.

“You two are close, then?” I asked.

“We’re the closest.” He nodded. “She’s the best.”

I stayed quiet, murmuring a decidedly noncommittal “Hmm.”

“She thinks you’re hot,” he blurted out.

My eyes widened to the size of saucers. “She told you that?”

“She didn’t have to, man. I mentioned that she’s been my best friend since we were seven, right?” He looked in the direction of the hardware store as if he was checking if he’d been caught betraying her confidence. Then he shifted uncomfortably. “You won’t tell her I told you, will you?”

“Are we in fucking middle school? I won’t tell her a thing. You say she thinks I’m hot, but she hates my fucking guts.” I stuck my arm into the truck to test the temperature. I was ready to get the hell out of there.

“She doesn’t hate your guts, dude. She’s fiery, sure, but she doesn’t hate people right off the cuff. She’s way too compassionate for that.” He shook his head.

Fiery was my thing, but hostility wasn’t.

“Are we talking about the same girl from the hardware store? She stands about this high.” I held out my hand. “Dark hair?”

“Bluest eyes you’ve ever seen? Yeah, we are. That’s Fiona. Also, I know this because I saw you two together, and here’s the kicker, she’s the only girl who works there with me.” Waggling his brows, he added jokingly, “Maybe you guys should get together. You’d make the cutest babies.”

My stomach lurched. Yeah, I had to get the hell out of there. “I’m not interested in that, but thanks for the suggestion.”

Whoever the guy was, he doubled over laughing again and gave me a halfhearted wave as he kneeled to toss his cigarette stub in the garbage and walked back to the store.

About halfway there, he turned back to me. “You’re not her type anyway. Not really.”

He disappeared through the side door of the store, leaving me trying to wrap my head around that conversation.

Not her type, huh? I begged to fucking differ.

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