The Fine Print (Dreamland Billionaires #1)(14)

What the fuck? No. I let out a huff, ignoring the warmth spreading throughout my body.

Her nose scrunches at whatever she reads.

“Problem?” I grind out with clenched teeth.

She doesn’t even flinch. “No.”

“You’ve reviewed the same page twice already.”

She tilts her head and looks at me in a way that makes the hair on the back of my neck rise. “I’m flattered you’ve been paying such close attention to me.”

I refrain from releasing a groan. Whatever look she registers on my face has her grinning to herself.

She taps the paper with her pen. “Contracts like these require my full and undivided attention. I’m not signing anything before I have a chance to read the fine print.”

“You’re not special enough for any fine print.”

She doesn’t look the least bit offended by my comment which only irritates me more. What is it about this woman, and why can’t she fall in line like everyone else? It’s like she shits sprinkles and consumes rainbows for sustenance. I’m not sure what kind of fairy tale forest she was raised in, but no one can be this optimistic about everything.

“You’re nothing like your grandfather described.”

The wooden armrests groan under my tight grip. “What did you say?” The only reason my voice comes out flat and disinterested is because of years of practice.

She stares at my white-knuckled fists. “Forget I said anything. It slipped out.”

One simply can’t forget something like that. I’m stuck between pushing her for answers and looking unbothered by her comment. “Whatever my grandfather said to a stranger in passing is nothing short of casual conversation.”

She laughs to herself but says nothing else. My skin itches for more information, but she remains tight-lipped as she returns her attention back to the contract.

That’s it? “How did you catch yourself in a conversation with my grandfather?” I blurt out.

She shrugs at my wide-eyed expression. “Fate. And it was conversations. Plural.”

Great. I’m betting my entire fortune on someone who believes in fate. “And what happened during these conversations?”

“That’s between Brady and me.”

Brady? This is the second time I’ve heard her call him that.

She interrupts my thoughts with a knowing smile. “He had quite a bit to say about you.”

The tightness in my chest intensifies. “Part of me doesn’t want to know.”

Her grin widens. “But part of you can’t help being curious.”

I roll my eyes which only makes her whole face light up like a damn Dreamland firework. I’ve never seen someone look at me like that before. It’s strange. Like she’s genuinely interested in my company rather than the idea of getting something out of me.

My skin itches under her assessment.

“Don’t worry. He didn’t say too much about you except that you were the dreamer of the three grandkids. And he was very excited for you to take over as the Director one day. Said it was your calling, so I’m sure he would be happy to see you in his office, destroying his favorite chair.” She gestures at the armrests I hold on to like a life-preserver. I release my grip and crack my knuckles.

“That’s all?”

“For the most part. Sorry to disappoint. We were pretty busy working on other things, but I remember how highly he spoke of his grandsons.”

The burning in my chest increases tenfold. I take a few deep breaths to ease the tension in my muscles.

Zahra scribbles her signature on the bottom of the page and passes it back to me. I purposefully swipe my fingers across hers as I grab the contract. The same weird feeling from earlier sparks between us, making me pause. Zahra sucks in a breath and pulls away, tucking her hand under the layers of her dress.

Interesting. It seems our connection wasn’t a one-off.

“When do I start?” She rises from her seat and runs a hand across the length of her dress.

I drag my eyes away from the curve of her waist toward her face. “Monday. Be here at 9 a.m. sharp.”

“Thank you for the opportunity. Really. I might have been shocked earlier when I said no, but I do really appreciate it. I don’t plan on letting you down.” A flush of color surges to the surface of her brown cheeks.

I find her reactions to the simplest things interesting. What else would make her blush? An image of her red-painted lips wrapped around something incredibly inappropriate flickers through my mind.

She’s on your payroll. Get a fucking grip on yourself. I frown at the uncontrollable reaction spreading through my body like a row of falling dominos. I’ve never been the type to be attracted to those who work under me.

What’s different about her and how can I stop it?

I release a tense breath. “See yourself out.” I grab her contract and add it to the stack of paperwork for Martha to handle.

Zahra grabs her backpack off the floor. She stands and turns on her heel, giving me a view of at least fifty different pins scattered across the pocket.

What’s the story with the pins, and why does she carry them with her wherever she goes?

I stop breathing as I zone in on one pin in particular. It catches my attention not because it’s bold but rather because it’s so different than all the other ones. No normal person would notice that pin out of the countless ones, but I’m all too familiar with the symbol and what it represents.