The Fine Print (Dreamland Billionaires #1)(11)

All my fingers cramp up from typing. It feels empowering to tear apart something that broke me first. By the time I’m done, my vision is a bit blurry and my coordination could be better.

Since drinking and typing have no place in my life, I decide to click the Save Draft button at the bottom and shut my laptop for the night.





“Oh no!” Oh no, no, no. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuck!”

Claire runs into my room. “What is it?”

I stare at the application portal.

This can’t be real. I pinch my arm so hard, I wince. The bright green letters mock me in a way that has my stomach threatening to revolt.

Your application has been submitted.

Claire looks over my shoulder at the screen. “You submitted it without asking me to double-check for typos? Who are you and what have you done with the real Zahra?”

“It was an accident!” I drop onto my bed, cover my face with a pillow, and scream.

Claire rubs my trembling arm. “What if you send an email to Mr. Kane and the Creators explaining the mistake? I’m sure they would understand.”

I tug the pillow away from my face. “Are you kidding me?! What am I supposed to say? ‘Sorry I got a tiny bit drunk and submitted an application tearing apart your most expensive ride’?”

She brushes my hair out of my face. “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think.”

“I called Lance’s ride a big metal pile of shit that would make Brady Kane roll over in his grave.”

She winces. “Oh, okay. Well. Yeah. You have always had a talent with words. At least you’re putting that English degree to good use.”

I groan. “I can’t believe I hit the wrong button. I should have never been drinking and working. What was I thinking?”

The bed dips under her weight as she sits next to me. Her arms wrap around me in the best hug. “Well, this was the first big step in letting go of the past. Maybe it needed to happen like this.”

“Yesterday you said fate was a fool’s way of avoiding plans.”

Her chest shakes from silent laughter. “Only because you love to tout your kismet horn for everyone to hear. So what, you only believe in fate when things go your way? That sounds like some bullshit logic to me.”

I purse my lips. “Yeah, but what if I get fired? I’ve already made some mistakes.”

First, I called Rowan an asshole and made fun of his board, and now this? I’ll be lucky if I’m allowed to pick up trash at the end of all this.

Claire pats my hand. “It’s too late now. You’re in deep.” She points at the green font on the screen.

I sigh. “Let’s hope for the best?”

What’s done is done. I can’t change the proposal I submitted and there was something cathartic about pouring out all my feelings.

Maybe it really is kismet.





6





Zahra





The last week has been hell. It’s taken all my willpower to make it through my shifts at the salon because I’m tired from worrying. I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop because it’s only a matter of time before the Creators call me out on my proposal.

My worst nightmare came at the most unexpected time when I received an ill-fated summons from Rowan Kane. His single-lined email didn’t give away much.

Your presence is required at my office tomorrow at 8 a.m. sharp. R.G.K.

I’m not sure what’s more shocking. The fact that he emailed me demanding my presence on a Saturday morning or the way he signed an email so casually with three initials.

I call Regina to explain the circumstances of why I will be late to work. She lets me know that she’s already aware of my meeting before hanging up.

Damn. I’m totally in trouble.

I rush through my morning routine and ride my skateboard through the Catacombs so I can make it to the meeting on time.

My sneakers squeak as I run into the lobby of Rowan’s private office suite. It’s hidden behind one-way mirrored windows that look out at Story Street and Princess Cara’s Castle.

The door to Rowan’s office remains shut. His secretary, Martha, points at an empty chair beside her desk. I recognize her from my visits with Brady.

My strawberry print dress puffs around me as I plop into the seat. I decided to go for an innocent until proven guilty look today.

Martha offers me a small cup of water. “Do I have you to thank for his good mood this morning?”

I gasp in mock shock. “Don’t tell me you’re referring to Mr. Kane. He wouldn’t know a good mood if he was overdosing on Valium.” I take a sip of water to refresh my parched throat.

Her eyes glitter. “You’re trouble.”

“And late,” Rowan calls out.

I turn in my seat, making the water in my cup slosh. I’m about to correct him on the fact that he is the one who is running late but I somehow forget the entire English language when I get a look at him.

Rowan in a suit is my kind of corporate kryptonite. Today, the custom royal blue fabric hugs his body like someone sewed the material onto him. His dark brown hair is styled without a single hair out of line and his stubble is nonexistent during this early morning hour. The ocean blue material highlights the dips and curves of every single muscle, like waves of water I want to drown in.