Chapter 52

I was running a final brush through my hair when my cell phone rang. I grabbed it and glanced at the display.

It was Charlotte.

I hit the answer button and said, "Hey, I'm really sorry, but I'm on my way out. Can I call you back later?"

"Sure," she said, "if you don't mind waiting for scoop."

I paused. Scoop? As in news? "Scoop about what?"

"Not what. Who."

"Then who?" I asked.

"Your boss."

Now, that got my attention. "You mean Zane? What about him?"

"Oh, well," she said in that breezy way of hers, "I know you're in a hurry, so I'll just tell you later."

I felt my gaze narrow. "Now, you're just teasing me."

"I know," she said. "It'll build anticipation, right?"

Wrong.

I was literally on my way out with the guy she supposedly had news about. If I didn't find out now, I'd wonder all day. I asked, "Can you make it quick?"

"How quick?"

"I've literally got like two minutes."

"Oh, all right," she said, not sounding thrilled to be rushed. "You'll never guess who I ran into."

"Who?" I asked.

"Naomi."

"Naomi who?"

"You know," she said. "Your former co-worker? From the catering company?"

"Oh. That Naomi." The last time I'd seen her had been on the night of Zane's party. "But wait, how do you know her?"

"We ran into her at the coffee shop? Remember?"

"Right. Sorry." As I spoke, I took another look in the mirror. Outside, it was a beautiful summer day. Zane had suggested wearing jeans or shorts, which meant that we'd probably be wandering around the city. In the spirit of his suggestion, I'd thrown on navy shorts and a white short-sleeved shirt with little buttons down the front.

Would he like it? I liked it. But was it too casual?

On the phone, Charlotte said, "Hey, are you still there?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, I'm a little distracted."

This was a massive understatement. Just across the hall, Zane was waiting for me. I had no idea what I was getting into, but I did know that it was too late to turn back now – unless, of course, Charlotte told me something horrible about him.

I bit my lip. Knowing Zane, this was a distinct possibility. I pulled my gaze from the mirror and braced myself for whatever she was planning to say.

"Anyway," Charlotte continued, "you'll never guess what she told me."

With more than a little trepidation, I said, "What?"

After a long, dramatic pause, Charlotte said, "You weren't the only one who was fired."

My stomach sank. "So Naomi lost her job, too?"

Like an idiot, I'd assumed that Zane would've been satisfied with only getting me fired. Turns out, I'd been giving him far more credit than he deserved.

Crap.

I was almost afraid to ask, "Was anyone else fired?"

"Nope," Charlotte said, sounding annoyingly cheerful. "Just the two of you."

I glanced toward the door to my hotel room. Was I seriously going to hang out with that guy? I wanted to. But I also wanted ice cream for dinner every night.

Absently, I mumbled, "Well, that's good. I guess."

Charlotte laughed. "You guess?"

I sighed. "Well, knowing Zane, it's a wonder he didn't have everyone fired, huh?"

Because he was just that awful.

What the hell was I doing?

"See, that's the thing," Charlotte said. "It wasn't him at all."

I did a mental double-take. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"I mean he wasn't the one who complained."

"Then who did?"

"Well, according to Naomi, it was some guy named Robert Hunt."

I sucked in a breath. "You mean Bob?"

"So you know him?"

"Not really. But I know who he is…except, from what I saw, he seemed like a pretty nice guy."

Charlotte gave a snort of derision. "He wasn't that nice. Get this. He stiffed them on the catering bill."

I winced. "He did?"

I couldn’t help but recall listening from inside the van as Bob complained about the cost of the party. At the time, I'd been worried he might not pay. But soon, I'd gotten so distracted by my own troubles that it completely slipped my mind.

In hindsight, it made me feel just a little ashamed.

On the phone, Charlotte was saying, "And it gets worse. Wanna guess who he blamed, for not paying, I mean?"

Knowing what I overheard, I actually had a pretty good guess. I said, "Zane?"

"No," she said. "You."

"Me? Why me?"

"You and Naomi," she clarified. "Get this. He told the catering company that the two of you trashed one of the serving stations and ruined a super-expensive rug."

I felt my jaw drop. "What?"

"And that's why he refused to pay. Because of the damage."

I felt my gaze narrow. I knew I hated that stupid rug. "But that's a lie," I said. "We didn't trash anything. It was Zane and Teddy." I paused. "At least that's what I heard."

"Who's Teddy?" she asked.

"You remember," I said. "The guy who was drunk?" When she made no response, I added, "You know, Zane's cousin? The guy on the plane? The one who thinks I'm a ho-bag?"

"Ohhhhh," Charlotte said. "Him? He sounds really annoying."

He was annoying – and from what I'd seen, he was a terrible judge of character. It was one of the many reasons I'd come to believe that his theories about Zane were just a little far-fetched.

Oh sure, Zane could be a hard-ass, but a cheat? And a slimeball? And hell, even a killer? I wasn't seeing it.

Or maybe, I just didn't want to see it. After all, I was so drawn to the guy that it was dangerous.

I blew out a relieved breath. "Wanna hear something funny?"

"What?"

"I was sure you were going to give me bad news."

She laughed. "I know. That's what made it so delicious."

I felt myself smile. Zane's lips were delicious – all warm and wonderful, like a sweet tantalizing dream. Would I be kissing him again?

Yes.

Or, at least I sure hoped so.

Into the phone, I said, "Thanks for letting me know, but I really do need to get going."

"But wait," she said, "there's one more thing."

"What's that?"

"Guess who finally paid the bill."

"Who?"

"Your boss."

Now, that surprised me. "He did?"

"Yeah, and he told the company flat-out that they had to hire back anyone who might've been fired due to the misunderstanding."

"Really?"

"That's what Naomi says."

I had to point out the obvious. "But they didn't hire me back."

"Right. Because you weren't part of the deal."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Well obviously, it's because you already had a job."

Yes. I did. Working for him. And it had been a roller-coaster right from the start. Again, I glanced toward my hotel room door. It was funny how many times my feelings about him had shifted.

Did I hate him? Or love him? I froze at the mere thought. Love? Of course, it was ridiculous. I didn't love him. It was only that, well, I didn't hate him nearly as much as I used to.

I might even like him a lot more than I cared to admit.

It was a terrifying thought, especially with the way he operated. And yet, only a minute later, I was off the phone and crossing the hall.

Whatever happened now, I vowed that I wouldn't regret it.