The Fine Print (Dreamland Billionaires #1)(88)

“You’re not the CEO yet. You can’t force me to move back whenever you snap your fingers.”

“Let’s be real. The only reason you’re interested in staying there is because of a woman. You don’t even like Dreamland, so cut the shit.”

My nails dig into my palm. “No. That’s not true. I actually enjoy this job.”

He sighs in a way that reminds me of when we were kids and I begged him for dessert before dinner. “Rowan, if you really want to be the Director, you can go back to Dreamland once I secure my CEO position. Until then, let’s get everything sorted out with each of our letters before you go changing the plans.”

Fuck. I put him on speaker and run my hands through my hair.

How am I supposed to choose between my brother and Zahra? My distress over the decision is laughable after everything Declan has done for me throughout my life.

I hate that my brother has a point. I hate that I know I owe him this much, despite my feelings toward Zahra. Declan was always there for me when my father was drunk or absent. He was the one who taught me how to ride a bike just like he was the one who stayed up late helping me with my homework despite having his own. Hell, he sacrificed an Ivy League education so he could stay in Chicago to take care of Cal and me. In some ways, he became a parent figure when I didn’t have one.

All I feel is abdominal distress at the idea of choosing him over Zahra. Nothing about moving back to Chicago seems easy, especially now.

You were the one who wanted something casual with Zahra. Get over it.

I release a heavy sigh. “Okay.”

I expect some type of relief at agreeing to his plan, but instead, I feel a heavy weight pressing against my chest. Because to please my brother, I’m bound to hurt the one person I’ve grown to care about.





41





Zahra





“You can’t go to work like this.” Claire uses a pair of tongs to throw my empty tissue box in the trash.

After I came home from the airport, my condition slowly deteriorated. It started with feeling bone-tired and it devolved into me cradling a box of tissues all through the night while I slept. I went to work yesterday but I ended up having to spend half the day working from home because everyone kept staring at me every time I blew my nose.

Rowan was right after all. I did catch a cold because I was too stubborn to go inside.

I cover my mouth with my elbow as I let out another wet cough. “I have to go. We don’t have much time left before the project deadline.”

“One day off isn’t going to make much of a difference.”

“But I need to—”

She shakes her head. “But nothing. I already made you some chicken soup last night after I heard you hacking up your lung.”

I press a hand against my pounding head. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do. You look like death.”

“I feel like it too.” My laugh turns into a long-winded series of coughs. Each breath makes my lungs burn in protest.

Claire brings me a fresh glass of water before leaving for work.

I grab my phone and send Jenny an apology email. She replies back within a few minutes telling me to get well soon and not to worry too much about them.

I pull up my chat with Rowan. He’s been a bit off since our last night in New York. I’m not sure if it’s the stress of the job getting to him or maybe the fact that he needs some distance after spending so much time together. I really hope it’s not the second option.

Me: I think I’m coming down with something.

Rowan: I told you Central Park wasn’t the best idea.





I cringe. It probably wasn’t the smartest move to stay outside in the cold but the memories were totally worth it.

Me: But it was so much fun.

Rowan: So are drugs. That doesn’t mean people should use them.

Me: How would you know?

Rowan: …

Me: I have a feeling you’re the funny type when high.

Rowan: I will neither confirm nor deny.

Me: Creative type?

Rowan: Zahra. Enough.





Ugh. He’s no fun today.

Rowan: Do you need any medicine?

Me: I think I know the cure.

Rowan: Enough cough medicine to knock out an elephant?

Me: Close but no. Watching the next episode of that true crime documentary we started over the weekend.

Rowan: My house. Tonight. 6 p.m.

Me: You’re leaving work early?

Rowan: I felt like taking some time off anyway. Jet lag and all.





Jet lag? Yeah right! We stayed in the same time zone and he knows it.

Me: Feel free to admit that you’re starting to like me at any time.

Rowan: These are the ramblings of a person hopped up on too much cough medicine.





I grin. That’s the man I know and love.

Love? Oh shit. Can I really love Rowan?

How could I not? He’s thoughtful, reserved, and so damn sweet to me that I completely forget how he hates the general population. He drives me wild in the best kind of way and he makes my heart race whenever he’s in the same room as me.

Oh, yeah. I’m in love with Rowan Kane.

The real question is does he love me back?