Billionaire Romance Boxed Set 2(51)

The morning of the interview, I dressed in my most responsible-looking outfit and threw up twice in the bathroom while I was getting ready. The whole drive over, I felt like every organ in my body was trying to crawl out through my chest. I let my hand from my lap down to the seat, where I found Daniel’s. I clasped his fingers in mine and squeezed tight, and he squeezed back.

He had, at least, some amount of faith in me. I just wasn’t sure if it was justified.

We went to a nondescript building downtown; it could have passed for any other bank of offices. After a long walk down many hallways, we finally arrived at our meeting place.

The waiting room was small, and crowded with people. Most of them had the same thousand-yard stare that I was sure I sported. Not a single one of us wanted to be there. You could practically smell the fear.

I sat there, still clutching Daniel’s hand, until his name was called.

“Mr. Thorne?”

I had forgotten they’d be talking to us separately. Of course they would. I let go of his hand and hunched down in my seat.

This was going to be the longest wait of my life.

After a while, I actually started to seriously consider that he might never come back. Maybe they’d already arrested him, and they’d be coming for me next. Of course our story wouldn’t hold up. Why would it? We’d been stupid to think we could beat the system.

I sat in utter misery for what felt like hours. Every time the woman came back to the door and looked around the room, my head perked up, hoping against hope it would be my name that she called.

But it never was.

And then, finally, I heard it.

“Mrs. Thorne. Will you please come with me.”

I followed her, into a tiny office with barely enough room for two chairs and a desk. I sat down.

“Someone will be with you in just a moment.”

She disappeared.

Sitting there, alone, in the stifling little room, I was very aware of the sound of my own breathing. Did I seem nervous? I had to act normal. I had to remember to smile.

The doorknob rattled.

A middle-aged man walked in, glasses perched on his nose. He was dressed like Mr. Rogers. I smiled bravely at him.

“Mrs. Thorne,” he said. “Thank you for coming in.”

“My pleasure,” I said, absurdly.

“All right.” He opened a manila folder on his desk. “Let’s get started, shall we?”





Chapter Thirteen



I sat quietly, irrationally worried that the interviewer could hear my heartbeat. The silence seemed to stretch on forever, and then, he finally spoke.

“Can you tell me about your first meeting?”

I cleared my throat. “Well, uh, he runs the company that I work at. But he doesn’t take a very…hands-on role in dealing with his staff. So I saw him around for years before I ever really ‘met’ him.” I inhaled, slowly. Breathing. Staying present with myself. “Then, about three months ago, he sent his lawyer to get me. He told me that Daniel wanted to meet with me.”

“And what happened then?”

“Daniel wanted to talk about a special project. A logo redesign for the company. Complete image overhaul. He wanted to keep it a secret, which was why he was talking to me about it directly. Or so he said.”

“It wasn’t true?”

I smiled. “He made it all up, just to get a chance to talk to me. I guess he’d been, sort of…interested in me for a while.”

“Did he make you aware of his interest in the first meeting?”

I swallowed. We hadn’t gone over this. “Not…not in so many words.”

The interviewer looked at me, clicking his pen.

“I…suspected,” I said, at last. “From the way he looked at me. But I thought I must be imagining things.”

“So.” He looked down at his papers. “Where were you living, at this time?”

I recited the address to my old apartment.

“At your first meeting, did you exchange contact information? Did you make arrangements to see each other again?”

I hesitated. “I…I think so,” I said. “But I can’t really remember exactly how many times we met before he gave me his number.”

So far, I was following Daniel’s guidelines as closely as I could. I figured vague was best, but too vague and I risked looking suspicious. I had to walk a delicate balance.

And breathe.

“Can you tell me about when you first realized you had something in common?”

I laughed a little, looking into the distance, like I was remembering something that made me happy to think about. “I don’t remember how it came up, exactly, but…Woody Allen movies. Turns out we both grew up watching them. We started talking about them every time we got together, just chit-chatting…less and less about the ‘project,’ and more and more about personal things. Finally, he told me that they were putting the project on hold, but…he still wanted to see me.”