Page 36 of The Billionaire's Shrubbery

I hold the phone to my ear but question what I’ve just heard. “Virginia is in my office? What is she doing?”

“It appears she’s talking to your plants, sir. Oh, and now, um, she seems to be dancing.”

I laugh out loud. “No, don’t send anyone. She’s fine. But can you remind me how I access my office camera from my laptop?”

I watch Virginia as she lifts each plant, one by one, from my table and moves in that way she does when she’s lost in her own world. Though I cannot hear her humming, she appears to be more hypnotized than dancing. Her hips, shoulders, and head sway. She looks as much like leaves waving in a breeze as the plants that she holds in her hands.

This woman is singular. Never have I met anyone who comes close to her quirk and confidence. The way she ordered me and Bruce to back off when she decided to suck the thorn from my foot—nobody has given me such a direct order since my father died. Nobody would dare. Nobody but Virginia “Tenacious” Beach.

How could I possibly scare her? Fuck, the woman terrifies me. When she grabbed my hand in the park, I know she didn’t intend it like lovers holding hands, that it was an action born of enthusiasm, like a child grabbing a friend’s hand to race to the swings, but damn if I didn’t wish otherwise.

After she puts the last plant back on the table, she picks up her purse and heads toward my office door. I’m not ready for her to go. I jump up and into my elevator to intercept her before she leaves the building. Muscle memory punches in the code to my office floor. When I get there, the doors to the lift she’s in are just closing. In my rush to key in the lobby code, I miss by one number and go up instead of down.

By the time I make it to the ground floor, I see her dress swishing by the lobby windows. I run to the front door and out onto the pavement in my bare feet.

“Virginia,” I call to her back.

She halts but doesn’t turn around.

I jog the ten feet to her. When I try to stand in front of her, she turns away.Why won’t she look at me?I think quickly. Keep it professional.

“How did you know my security detail had a flask? Did you see him drink from it?”

Her head shakes back and forth. She sniffles, then inhales a shaky breath. Damn it, she’s crying. Did I do this? I forget about professionalism and gently spin her to face me. She stiffens.

“No, I didn’t see Bruce drink. I could tell by the way his jacket hung a little lopsided that he had something in his breast pocket. It was a guess since he keeps his phone in his hand, and I could tell he had his wallet in his front pants pocket.”

“That’s … amazing. That you see all that. I pride myself on being observant, but you take it to a whole other level.”

She shrugs.

“Please come back up and tell me how you developed such a keen sense of observation.”

Virginia draws in a long, slow breath.

“I freaked you out with the offer of a foot massage, so I’m taking that offer off the table. You could not pay me to touch your feet.” I grimace, and she sputters a small laugh. “Will you please come up?”

“I don’t know. It’s late. You probably have better things to do than drink tea with me.”

“In fact, I do.”

Virginia hangs her head and nods. I take her chin in my hand so she’s forced to look at me. “The better thing I have to do is have the kitchen make us some sweet-and-salty popcorn and then watch an episode or two of that series you’ve mentioned a few times … the true crime one …”

“Unsolvable Crimes: Solved.”

Without thinking, I take my hands from her shoulders and point. “That’s the one,” I say and immediately feel the loss of our connection.

“Why?”

“Because I enjoy your company. You make me laugh. I learn things from you. You’re a lot nicer to look at than my brothers. And I don’t know, because it’s been far too fucking long since I’ve had a friend I feel I can be myself with.”

“I’m not sure you’ll still want me around if I show you my true self.”

I don’t like what I’m hearing. It doesn’t sound like the Virginia I’ve been spending an hour or more with a day. “Can we please take this conversation upstairs? Have it with popcorn and … do you like ginger beer?”

“Love,” she says with zero enthusiasm.

I wrap one arm around her shoulders and head back to the elevators.

---