Page 11 of Billion Dollar Dispute

She’s helping me out this morning because Molly’s running late.

I frown, not recognizing the name. “Who’s that?”

“He owns Lincoln Acquisitions,” she replies, her tone suggesting that I should be familiar with the name.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” I mutter under my breath, pulling out my phone and quickly typing his name into Google. The search results load, and my frown deepens. Pictures of a handsome, young, rich, and sleek-suited man appear alongside articles with headlines talking about corporate takeovers and aggressive business tactics. Molly usually handles phone calls like this. I’m trying to figure out what to do when Mom rushes out, “Can I transfer him? There’s another call coming through.”

“Sure,” I sigh, even though I don’t like the sound or look of him. Google makes him look like a jerk, all smirks and perfectly tailored designer suits.

“Mrs. Recaredo,” comes a smooth, rehearsed voice on the line, dripping with false charm.

I bite my tongue, but I can’t stop myself. “Ms. Recaredo,” I correct sharply, emphasizing the “Ms.” I’m no longer married, and I want to make it clear I’m not tied to Butch in any way.

“Sorry, Ms. Recaredo.”

Better. “What can I do for you?” I ask, my voice cool and businesslike.

Assuming he wants to book an event, I find some paper and start looking around my messy desk for a pen. But I have no luck. I’ll have to get one from Molly when she finally arrives.

“I want to talk to you about Recaredo Events,” he continues, his tone dropping the charm to now all business. “I’ve spoken to your mother.”

I freeze, my fingers curling into a fist. No need to get a pen now. “It’s not for sale,” I bark out, my pulse quickening.

“I’ve done some research, and I can see the business is struggling. I want to help,” he retorts bluntly.

Asshole.

“That’s none of your business. It’s not for sale. Don’t call me again,” I snap, then slam the phone down. My hands tremble with a mix of anger and anxiety.

A minute later, there’s a soft knock on the door. Molly pokes her head in, her cheeks flushed from hurrying. “What was that about?”

I shake off the exchange and force a smile. “Hey. Just someone wanting to buy the business.”

A wrinkle forms between her eyebrows, and she steps into the room.

Her expression makes me ask. “What?”

“You could, you know,” she says softly, taking a seat across from me.

“I don’t want to.”

“I’ll be fine, and Danny will too. Don’t think about us,” she reassures me, her voice gentle but unconvincing. I appreciate how selfless she’s being.

“I want this business, so unless you quit, you’re stuck with me.”

A large smile stretches across her face. “Single moms for the win.”

“Well, that depends on how your date goes,” I tease, wiggling my eyebrows at her.

Molly has been excitedly talking about a guy she met on a dating app for the past few days. She’s been my co-worker for about two weeks now and we are getting closer by the second.

“I’m not planning to settle down,” she insists, though a blush tints her cheeks.

“Oh, I know.” I’ve read their messages, and even now, thinking about them, I can’t help blushing. He’s so descriptive about how much he wants her and what he wants to do with her. Even if it’s a hookup, I’m happy for her if that’s what she wants. As for me, I could never. It’s just not in me to do that. I’ll happily be her cheerleader.

“What if he’s catfishing me?” She chuckles, trying to sound nonchalant, but I can hear the underlying worry.

“What makes you say that?”

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