Page 84 of Crazed

"I'm debating, but Bora Bora or Fiji," I reveal.

She gapes, blinks a few times, then says, "Wow. That's far and pretty amazing, I imagine. Why there?"

"No reason, really. I've never been there and think Katiya will like it."

"I bet!"

"Tell you what," I say, stepping closer. "When's your next vacation?"

She shrugs. "No idea."

"Well, once you know your dates, let me know. Since you're being so flexible and helping me, your next trip is on me—anywhere in the world, only five stars, including the private jet."

Her mouth drops.

I chuckle again and hold out my hand. "Deal?"

She takes it and shakes it hard. "Deal."

I wink, feeling happy, even though I shouldn't right now. "Thanks again. Let's keep this between us, okay? I want to surprise her."

She nods. "Of course."

I thank her again then leave, getting back into the Land Rover. Over the next two hours, I secure the jet, book a bungalow over the water in Bora Bora, and order a slew of clothes for Katiya and me. I instruct the personal shopper I work with to deliver them to the jet before we leave.

By the time Katiya's shift is over, everything is in motion. I debate about all the ways I can get her to admit the truth to me. The only definite is I'm not leaving Bora Bora without it.

17

Katiya

All dayI've been rattled. My brain's spinning a thousand miles a minute.

How could I have missed that Alicia was an Abruzzo?

Is she though? Or is she forced to do their work like I am?

She and Tommy have a history.

Ugh! I need answers.

Since our discussion, Alicia has kept me busy restocking shelves. Every time I look up, there's another unorganized cart next to me. A few times, I caught myself placing the books in the wrong area and had to start all over. I reprimanded myself after each incident, yet my concentration didn't seem to improve. Now I'm second-guessing all the work I did today.

I sigh, finish emptying the last cart, and go to the main area. Massimo is sitting on a tabletop with his arms crossed. The moment our eyes lock, he grins. "Ready?"

"Is it five already?"

He glances at his watch. "Five-fifteen."

I wince. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you wait."

He shrugs then hands me my purse. "No problem."

Surprised, I ask, "You went to my cubicle?"

"Guilty," he admits and rises, tugging me into him.

I inhale his woodsy scent, wanting to melt into him and never escape.

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