Page 45 of The Billionaire's Wife

“Good. Me, too. I feel like you probably know the whole situation already. You’re married to one of Tristan’s friends—I got that much information out of him—and I figure he keeps his friends in the loop. So, while I can answer questions, I don’t want to just babble on and on about stuff you already know.”

Megan snickered. “That…is honest. And fair. Maybe I wanted to know your take on things, though?”

I shrugged. “I can’t imagine Tristan’s version was skewed. But the short version is we’re married, I run when there’s trouble, and that’s what I did fourteen years ago and more recently. I came back because I thought Tristan could help me. He is. But I tried to leave when I realized how unfair it was to expect him to do anything for me after all this time. Now he’s dug his heels in, and I’m scared enough and tired enough that I’m willing to try it his way.”

Megan pursed her lips before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

What did that mean? I swallowed and started to stand. “You know what, never mind. I’ll go fill out an application at the ice cream store.”

“Wait wait wait. Sit down.” Megan held my gaze until I lowered back down into the chair. “You keep things close, don’t you?”

My eyebrows lifted. Did she expect me to spill all the sticky details and the ins and outs to her just because she knew Tristan? She might be his friend, but she was still a stranger to me. “I guess. Is that a problem?”

“Not necessarily.” Megan drummed her fingers on her leg. “I could actually use some help. One of my high schoolers just quit because she made varsity basketball and doesn’t have time in the afternoons anymore. Totally legit and I support extracurriculars, but it did leave me in the lurch. My understanding is that you might disappear again, though, as part of the solution you’re trying?”

I pressed my lips together. Tristan had told them the details. Which was fine. Maybe even good. “I’m hoping not to. I think I can make a case that it’ll be better if they let me try to keep up the appearance of normal.”

Unless, of course, they killed me before I had a chance to talk. But I really didn’t believe they’d send Manny if that was what they wanted. They had people who were much better suited for making people disappear than Manny.

“How…no, maybe I don’t want to know.”

“It’s probably better if you don’t.” Also, it wasn’t like I had a grand plan. Just kind of the vague hope they’d see reason. Which, when dealing with these people, was a big enough gamble that I didn’t think even Vegas would take the odds. My stomach twisted. Maybe I should just go. Leave town. Take my chances. And if I lived to tell the tale, see about getting useful information to the FBI.

“Okay. You’re hired. When can you start?”

I blinked. “Just like that?”

Megan shrugged. “I need help. Tristan matters to me and to my husband. And it seems like you could use a friend. I’m finding I’m pretty good at that. So yeah. Just like that.”

I wasn’t sure I appreciated how on target she was. I could use a friend. Or two. But that had been such a constant state in my life, I wasn’t used to people seeing it. Tristan had. His parents had. But other than that? No. “Well. Thanks. I can start whenever. Now. You tell me.”

Megan laughed. “Now works. It’s a slow day. Which is sadly not unusual. But it makes it good for training.”

“All right.” I stood and looked around. “Where do we start?”

“With lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“That’s right. I usually bring something. I did, in fact, bring something today. But hiring a new employee calls for a celebration and I’m really not in the mood for a sandwich of compressed chicken anyway. Though I will share the Twinkie if you want.”

When was the last time I had a Twinkie? “I might take you up on that, for nostalgic purposes if nothing else.”

“Excellent. So, as the low woman on the totem pole, you get to go pick up lunch at the Café down the block.”

“The Café?” There were so many restaurants around, I wasn’t sure I’d get the right place.

“That’s its name. The Café.” Megan shrugged. “When I saw it, I tried to convince my grandmother to rename the bookstore ‘The Bookstore,’ but she wasn’t having it. She’s a diehard Stephen King fan, so Portable Magic is her homage. At this point, having seen what’s involved in changing a business name? I’m leaving it all alone. Even if it confuses people.”

“Maybe just tack on ‘A Bookstore’ after it? At least in your ads and fliers and stuff? Doesn’t necessarily have to be a legal name change.” Because it seemed to me that knowing what a store sold was critical to increasing the bottom line.

“That’s…not a bad idea. I’m appreciating my decision to hire you already.” Megan laughed as she stood and strode to the front desk. She slipped to the side where the cash register stood and pulled out a notepad from wherever she’d had it tucked away. She wrote on it, then ripped off the top sheet and slid it toward me. “That’s my order. Let me get you some cash.”

“I’ve got it.” Tristan had been adamant about giving me money. He called it “walking-around money,” even though it was more like “withdrew-the-max-from-the-ATM money” in my mind. I appreciated that he didn’t want to leave me destitute, but I didn’t like not paying my way. Even if he could afford it. “I’ll be back in a few.”

I started toward the door, then stopped. I pointed to the right. “Down the block that way?”

“Yep. You can’t miss it. There’ll probably be a line. And an amazing smell. If you see a pastry you can’t live without, get two.”

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