Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(65)

He was curious whether she’d been telling the truth.

Not that it mattered, since she’d just walked out the door and he’d likely never see her again.

A half-buried memory stirred in the back of his mind as he stared at the now-shut door. The other woman had an unusual name. Bront?. He knew that name, and where he’d heard it before.

He dialed Logan’s number, still thinking about the unusual redhead.

“What is it?” Logan said. “I’m about to head into a meeting.”

“There can’t be more than one ‘Bront?’ running around New York, can there?” Hunter asked.

The voice on the other end of the line got very still. “Bront??” Logan asked after a moment. “You saw her? Where is she?”

Hunter stared at the door, half wishing the women would come back through it again, and half relieved they wouldn’t. “She just left with a redhead named Gretchen. I want to know more about her.”

“About my Bront??” Logan’s voice was a growl.

“No. Gretchen. The one with red hair. I want her.”

“Oh.” A long sigh. “Sorry, man. Haven’t been myself lately. She left me, and I’ve been going crazy trying to find her.” Logan’s voice sounded strained, tense. “I can’t believe she’s still in New York. Where are you?”

“At the townhouse on the Upper East Side.” Hunter had been overseeing it to ensure that nothing was out of place. Plus, he’d been bored and restless. And more than a little lonely.

He wasn’t lonely any more, though. He couldn’t stop thinking about that redhead. Gretchen, with her big glasses and pert comebacks and red hair.

“Your assistant didn’t come by to pick up the boxes,” Hunter said after a moment. “This Gretchen did, and your Bront? was with her.”

“I have to go,” Logan said. “I’ll call Audrey and see who she sent over.”

“Send me information about this Gretchen woman,” Hunter reminded me. I want her.

“I will. And thanks.” Logan’s tone had changed from dejected to triumphant. “I owe you one.”

“You do,” Hunter agreed. “Just get me information on her friend, and we’ll call it even.”

Things had suddenly gotten a bit more . . . interesting. Hunter glanced at the empty townhouse and smiled to himself, his mind full of the unusual woman who had been there minutes before.

Chapter Eleven

“I have good news and bad news,” Cooper said as Bront? and Gretchen came in to work.

Bront? pulled her apron out of her locker, frowning as she tied it behind her back. “Oh?”

“Hit us with the good news first, of course,” Gretchen said. “No sense in bumming us out until you give us a bit of a lift.”

Cooper beamed at them, his gaze resting on Gretchen adoringly. “I can now afford to put you both on the payroll.”

“So what’s the bad news?” Gretchen asked, glancing over at Bront?.

“There’s a new boss. I have someone I’m answering to.”

Gretchen frowned. “I don’t understand.”

A queasy feeling began to stir in Bront?’s stomach. Oh, no.

“I sold the place.”

“Holy cow! I didn’t even know it was for sale.” Gretchen blinked wide eyes at him. “Congrats, I think?”

“It wasn’t up for sale officially, but someone approached me and made me an offer I can’t refuse.”

Oh, no.

Bront? stared at the door to the back room, then pushed it open, entering the main sitting area of the small coffee shop. Her stomach gave an unpleasant twist as she saw a familiar pair of shoulders in a tailored gray sport coat. Logan. He turned, and her heart skipped a beat even as her stomach dropped.

“Bront?.” His eyes moved over her body, as if assessing whether it was really her.

“What are you doing here, Logan?”

His gaze seemed to cool a bit at her response. “I own the place.”

Not again! This man was going to drive her mad. “Are you kidding me?”

“We need to talk.” He stood and moved forward, reaching for her arm.

Bront? quickly sidestepped his grip and began to pull off her apron. If he owned another place where she worked, it was another one she’d have to abandon. God, this was getting ridiculous. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Allow me to rephrase that. I need to talk to you.” His voice lowered and became husky as he moved to stand closer to her. He was so close that her body trembled with his nearness, but she forced herself to hold still. Remain strong.

“Please, Bront?.”

It was that soft, low “please” that made her knees turn weak and her resolve melt away like butter. She looked up at his face, noticed the circles under his eyes, and gave a sharp nod. Bront? turned and glanced back at Cooper and Gretchen. Cooper was watching her curiously, but Gretchen’s arms were crossed and she looked annoyed on Bront?’s behalf.

“Can you give us a minute to talk?” Bront? asked.

“Use my office,” Cooper volunteered, pulling the key out of his pocket and holding it out to Bront?.

She took it and turned toward the back office.

Gretchen stepped forward, concern in her eyes. “Are you sure this is wise, Bront??”