The Fine Print (Dreamland Billionaires #1)(98)

My hands shake as I read the rest of Brady Kane’s letter discussing semantics and scheduling. After rereading it twice, it slips from my fingers and flutters to the floor.

Did Rowan know this entire time that his grandfather wanted me to vote on the project he’s spent months working on? Why else would he hire me—someone he said wasn’t important enough to be missed?

No. That can’t be it. Right? There’s no way he knew.

But why else would he hire someone like you with limited qualifications who tore apart Dreamland’s most expensive ride?

He has an endless stream of Creators he could have hired to ensure Dreamland was in the best hands to win this vote. His reason behind pretending to be Scott seemed reasonable, but now I’m wondering if it was another ploy to poke around and see if I would admit to being a part of the voting committee. What if his whole speech yesterday in my cubicle was a way for him to pacify me so I wouldn’t screw him over?

With each question, my doubts grow stronger.

What if everything about us was always a lie?





Claire lifts the pillow from my face and hugs it to her body as she takes a seat. “What’s wrong?”

“That fact that Rowan was born.”

“I thought we blacklisted his name from the apartment!”

“That was before I received a letter from Brady Kane that exposed his grandson.”

Claire’s eyes might pop out of their sockets. “WHAT?!”

The words tumble out of me as I share the story about the vote and all the theories I have. I even tell her about how Rowan tried to invite me over to his place after everything, which only adds to my suspicions.

Claire somehow reins in her emotions until I finish. She jumps off the couch and grabs her phone from her bedroom. I track her pacing as she taps away at the screen, with her cheeks all red and her hair going everywhere.

“That no good, piece of shit—” She jabs at the screen of her phone with a frown.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to calculate how long someone can survive from blood loss after being castrated.”

I drop my head back and laugh. “Physical aggression is never the answer.”

Claire pats my hand as she sits back down, tucking her phone into her pocket. “Oh, Zahra. It’s cute how innocent you see the world.”

“And that is?”

“Like you were never told Santa Claus isn’t real.”

I drop my mouth open in faux shock. “What?! Santa’s not real?”

Claire rolls her eyes half-heartedly. “Fool.”

“Seriously. Your answer to everything is to cut, maim, and kill. That’s not really the kind of solution I’m looking for here.”

“Only because you couldn’t afford a good lawyer after.”

We both end up laughing at that.

I poke her with my foot. “Seriously. Castration?”

“You know how the saying goes. Act like a dick, lose said dick.”

A loud laugh escapes me. “No one says that!”

“Then maybe it’s time people did. I mean that fucker seriously thinks he can manipulate you like that? Un-freaking-believable! Does he even have a conscience?”

My entire body aches at the thought.

“Debatable.” I sigh. There was a time I thought he did, but who knows anymore. Although he seemed genuine when he stopped by my cubicle, I can’t be certain who the real Rowan is anymore.





47





Rowan





I enter the last Creator meeting before the holiday break. While the employees might take time off, I’ll be working day and night to finish up my presentation for the board.

Jenny stands at the front of the room and everyone nods in my direction as I take my seat. I scan the room, searching for the one woman I can’t get out of my head. Zahra’s usual seat is occupied by a different Creator.

A pressure pushes against my chest, making my breaths ragged. Jenny doesn’t say anything about Zahra’s absence.

The first Creator presents on some decent idea that will never make it out of today’s meeting. I’ve already vetoed it in my head.

The door creaks open behind me. I turn to find Zahra entering silently, minus her jangling backpack. It throws me back to our first meeting. A ghost of a smile tugs at my lips before they fall back into a flat line.

Her eyes scan the room before dropping to the only empty chair, located right next to me. If she’s annoyed by the seating arrangement, she doesn’t show it. She pulls out the seat and slides into the space. All the cells in my body fire off in unison as I inhale her faint perfume.

While presenters go up, Zahra remains stiff while ignoring my presence. It irritates me more than I care to admit.

By the time it’s Zahra’s turn to present, I’m fidgeting in my seat and struggling to think about anything but her.

She stands and clears her throat.

I go rigid in my seat, checking her over for any signs of sickness. She takes a sip of her water before going up to the podium.

“Today, I’m presenting something a little different. It’s not exactly about a ride, so I understand if it isn’t accepted as an option for Mr. Kane’s project.” She doesn’t even bother looking in my direction while she speaks about me, which only adds to the tightening pressure in my chest.