Page 65 of Billion Dollar Revenge

Another ping has me exhaling heavily. It's the delivery of towels and signage, but my jaw hits the floor when it says it’s been delivered and signed for.

I rub my forehead, wondering where it is. There’s been nothing left outside the studio door except a bouquet of roses, but I need my delivery for the opening, so I go back to the ground floor, and nothing is there either. When I go back up and pick up the roses, I notice the thorns are still intact and arranged perfectly. Putting them in the corner, I read the note. “Thinking of you, always.”

I don’t know who sent them, but I’m sure I’ll figure out which family or friend sent them. My concern right now is finding my delivery.

I call the company, who puts me on hold. When I’m finally off hold and talk to someone, they tell me it was delivered to another studio, which I haven’t heard of, but I tell them that's not where it was supposed to go. They can see that it's their error for not checking identification, and tell me they will try to fix it urgently.

My heart is in my throat. I need these on time. I don’t want any problems with my studio opening.

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. I move on autopilot to open the door. Evan is standing there with a concerned expression. I completely forgot about meeting him. Time got away from me.

I force a smile on my face. “I’m sorry. I got held up with work.”

His gaze shifts behind me.

I step aside to let him in.

“Working on?” he asks.

I glance around the room, but my mind races too slowly to think of a convincing lie.

“Something’s wrong.”

I wave off his concern. “Nothing is wrong.” I walk toward my laptop, and power it on, avoiding his penetrating gaze. I can feel it burning a hole through my head.

Leaning forward, he grabs my chin and locks his accessing eyes with mine. “No, something’s up.” He gestures toward the chairs.

I exhale deeply, and my cheeks puff out with force. Knowing I won’t win this argument, I lower my head, breaking his hold, and take a seat.

He settles opposite me. “Tell me what happened,” Evan insists, dragging my chair closer to him.

I lace my fingers, keeping my gaze fixed on him.

“My delivery was mixed up and they sent my sign and towels to another studio in another state,” I explain, but I must look like a mess because his nostrils flare, and my heart pounds rapidly in response.

“It might be faster to order new ones, or I can get someone to pick them up from the manufacturer. Do you want my helicopter?”

“No, they are making the job urgent. It should be here in time,” I assure him. I can’t believe he’d even offer to use his helicopter. Before I can thank him for that, though, his eyes flick to the roses.

“Who are they from?” And that rules out him buying them.

“I don’t know.”

“Bobby?” he asks, and then clenches his jaw.

“No. He never bought me flowers, and definitely never nice roses from a florist,” I reply without hesitation, grippinghis hands, hoping he believes me. His gaze holds mine, the connection between us so strong it’s palpable.

“It could be Nova. She loves roses,” I say.

He nods. “True. Do you have anything else you need to do here?”

I shake my head. “Not right now.”

“Do you want to come back to my place?”

As much as I want him sexually, I’m exhausted. There's been so many changes recently that I just want to curl up on my sofa.

“I don’t know…”

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