Page 11 of Falling For The Billionaire Rockstar

“Exactly. Maybe it’s not as random as we think it is. I mean, whythatshop? Maybe his office is close to it.”

“Honey, remember the reason you’re in this situation in the first place is because he couldn’t get to the shop on time. I doubt it’s close to his office.”

“Fuck!” I grabbed my hair as I looked up. “I mean, why did he have to be such a fucking asshole? I was so close. All he had to do was hand me the damn briefcase.”

“Hey, look. At least he showed up, which means he’s not a con. He’s probably still angry, but he’ll come through.”

“Wait a minute!” My eyes brightened as I got off my stool and headed for the sitting room. Samantha followed me, a curious gaze studying my every move.

I reached for her laptop and logged into my Gmail account. “What are you doing?” She took a seat on the couch next to me.

“Maybe, if I can log into my account, I can find my search history, and I’d be able to find his office address.”

“If there was an office address in the first place, why didn’t you go there before?”

“Because Greg had his bodyguards on me like fucking hound dogs. I think he knew I was planning something. I even had to stop using his Wi-Fi to browse.”

“Jesus, Oly, why didn’t you tell me all this before?”

“I mean, you had your breakup and the whole fundraiser. I didn’t want to heap my problems on yours.”

“That’s absolute bullshit.”

“I’m sorry, I really am. But I had to take care of myself this time around, and I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

“I understand, but you need to know that I’ll always be here for you no matter what I’m going through, okay?”

“Thank you, Sam.”

I scrolled through my search history until I found the site where I’d gotten the agent’s contact. Reading the ad poster that popped up on the first page, my eyes scanned for the office address. When I found it, my heart sank.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What’s wrong? You can’t find it?” Samantha asked, peering into the computer.

“I found it. It’s located in the business district.”

“Good then. We’d go there first thing tomorrow morning.”

“I can’t, Sam. The business district is filled with Greg’s partners and shareholders—people I’ve been introduced to and had dinner with. I can’t even walk out your door for more than five minutes for fear of being recognized.”

She took in a deep breath, her face going flat with disappointment.

“What do I do now, Sam? Every second I spend here, I feel like Trench or Greg are going to come bustling in through that door.”

“Hey, none of them know where I live.”

“Oh, Sam, you keep forgetting it’s Greg we’re talking about here. If he wanted to find out where the woman who styled your hair lives, it wouldn’t take him more than a day.” I tossed the laptop aside and sprung to my feet as I began to pace around the room.

I was running out of time, ideas, and options.

“Look, I see the sense in what you’re saying, but worrying about it won’t make it any better. Besides, Greg has his hands full already.”

I looked at her, my questioning gaze searching her face as if I could find answers written on her forehead. “What do you mean he’s got his hands full?”

She chuckled. “I don’t think you realize how much of a shithole you’ve trapped him in. There were multiple TV channel representatives covering that wedding. Don’t let me get started on social media coverage as well.”

She reached for the discarded laptop and pulled it to her. “The whole city and beyond watched him wait like a fool at the altar for a bride that never showed. Everyone’s talking about it now. I’m talking about news headlines, podcasts, blogs, even memes.”

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