Page 127 of Forking the Billionaire

So why didn’t it feel like this was what I wanted?

I pushed away all the thoughts of things I couldn’t change, and focused on my here and now. I scrubbed the bar and forced myself to be a part of the current conversation.

Sage cupped her hand around her ear. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Ziggy asked.

“The sound of no more Mona Maloney,” Sage said.

“It’s peaceful, like it’s supposed to be,” Ziggy said.

“The Maloneys left?” I asked. “I didn’t know.”

“Mona left,” Sage said. “She left Fred behind.”

“Ouch,” I said. “It hurts to be abandoned. I feel sorry for him.”

They both stared at me a little too long, like I was talking about myself, whichI was not.Heat carried up my neck.

Time to change the subject. I leveled what I hoped was a no-nonsense glare at Sage. “What’s the truth about the soap opera star and the biscuit bandit?”

“This again?” She waved a dismissive hand.

“Did the ghosts tell you?” Ziggy frowned. “I keep hearing it over and over at night, taunting me.”

Sage snapped a pointed gaze at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I swear, I didn’t mean any harm,” Ziggy said. “The first time I took a biscuit, I didn’t even know Stan had to special order them. It was on the desk, so I thought it was fair game.”

“Reasonable,” I said.

Sage swung her foot at him, but missed. Ziggy still didn’t seem to notice.

“And after I tasted it, wow. I asked for more. He said no.” Ziggy licked his lips. “But once you taste those specialty biscuits, the angels come down singing and trumpets fill the air, and your whole body lights up like an explosion of fireworks and orgasms. There’s no going back.”

“You’re disgusting,” Sage said.

“And the soap opera star?” I suppressed a grin and waited for Sage’s confession.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Sage rose from her seat, chin held high, and walked away.

Ziggy said, “She’s embarrassed about her past. She was a huge star in Brazil in the seventies…or…a long time ago. I don’t know. But if you bring it up again, prepare to face her wrath.”

“Thank you for the warning.”

“It was the ghosts who told you our secrets, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Except ghosts weren’t real. Someone had told me, whoever had been creeping around whispering and repeating private conversations. But whoever was doing it, were they also responsible for the thefts? And if so, how could someone manage to move a bazillion-pound tiki statue? “Hey Ziggy, do you happen to know how that tiki statue ended up on the roof of the resort?”

“Yeah.”

I waited for him to elaborate.

“I helped Stan move it up there,” he said. “It was in a storage closet that needed to get painted.”

“Wasn’t it crazy heavy?”

“Not really. I mean, we had a dolly. That statue isn’t like some of the others around the island, either. It’s hollow.”

---