The Fine Print (Dreamland Billionaires #1)(32)

Iris doesn’t even notice. “I can tell you that I’ve been on more dates with women in the last month than your brother has been on for the entirety of me working for him.”

Declan’s eyes remain focused on his secretary as she places his plastic-wrapped utensils in front of him. And here I was feeling bad about kissing Zahra.

I cough, and Declan snaps out of whatever trance he was caught up in. “Iris is pre-vetting the women before I meet with them.”

“And people say romance is dead.”

“What do you expect me to do? Fall in love the old-fashioned way?” Declan sneers.

The idea is laughable. After everything we’ve been through with our father after our mother’s death, none of us have any intention of falling in love. Because if we have learned anything, it’s that the useless emotion makes people weak and powerless. It clouds judgment and has the opportunity to ruin everything.

My father in love was the best kind of man. But my father nursing a broken heart? Disgusting. Pathetic. So lost in his misery that he ruined his own children because he couldn’t stand seeing them happier than him.

No thanks. I’ll take my chances staying married to my job. The divorce rate is far more forgiving.

Iris drops into the chair next to me. “Mr. Kane doesn’t have time to waste, so I’m the next best thing.”

“You do know him best after all these years.” I shrug.

Declan grabs the paper bag from the middle of the desk and removes Iris’s takeout box. He places it in front of her.

Out of all the weird things I’ve seen today, that has to be the strangest thing yet.

“So cut the shit and tell me what’s really going on at Dreamland,” Declan snaps.

I turn my focus from Iris back to my brother, finding his shoulders tense beneath his suit. What about Dreamland unsettles him this much?

Probably the same thing as you.

I go off, sharing my actual report from last week, minus my growing attraction toward my employee.





16





Rowan





My phone vibrates at the corner of my desk. I grab it and open the message without checking who it’s from. There’s only one person who messages me during working hours and it’s sure as hell not my brothers.

I’m surprised Zahra’s able to get her work done with so many interruptions. I’d question her work ethic but based on some of the timestamps of her messages, she’s up past the time when I go to bed.

Zahra: Mayday!!!

Zahra: I have another meeting this Friday and my sketches look like something from a kindergarten showcase.

Me: Give the kindergarteners a little more credit. Their drawings aren’t that bad.





I lean back in my chair and wait, fighting a smug smile.

Zahra: Remember when you said you’ve never been called funny in your life?

Me: Yes.

Zahra: Turns out everyone is right. You’re awful.

Me: Is this how you proposition those you want favors from?

Zahra: I’m glad you asked because I’m ready with my next offer.





Of course she is. I’d expect nothing less from her.

Zahra: I’ll buy you pizza and a six-pack of your favorite beer if you help me. I’m BEGGING you.





She doesn’t ask before sending a photo. She’s right. Whatever mock-up she created is absolutely hideous. I can barely make out whatever idea she originally had.

Me: Is that a dying cat? That’s a bit morbid for a children’s theme park, don’t you think?

Zahra: Ha. Ha. Ha. It’s supposed to be a menacing dragon for your artistic information.

Me: At least you nailed the scary part.





She follows up my message with one single knife emoji.

Me: Are you threatening my life? That’s something HR would frown down upon.





Now I’m jokingly threatening her with HR? I’m fucked. So positively fucked.

Zahra: Slip of the finger. I meant to send this.





She follows up with a series of praying hands. I rub a thumb across my smile.

Me: Liar.

Zahra: All right, you’re playing hard to get, so here’s plan C.

Me: Only two away from selling your kidney.

Zahra: You really pay attention!!

Zahra: But I think you won’t be able to resist this one, so my vital organ could be safe and sound if you only agree.

Zahra: How about pizza, beer, and a year of unlimited access to my TV streaming accounts. I won’t even change the password in a few months to spite you.





A whisper of a laugh escapes me. Her offer is ridiculous, especially seeing as I’m the one who acquired any streaming service worth paying a subscription for. It’s my pride and joy.

Regardless, I’m impressed by her perseverance despite all my rejections.

Zahra: Do you accept the challenge?

Me: Tell me more about your idea and I’ll think about it.





Every siren in my head sounds off in unison, warning me away from her. Yet I can’t find the will to send a follow-up message revoking my offer.

She sends a flurry of messages explaining her idea for the new roller-coaster ride featuring Princess Cara. Her texts are filled with such intriguing passion, and I find myself getting lost in her world for a little bit.