Do Billionaires Ever Do Redemption ?

WILD REBEL

One

I

paced the length of Donovan's office, then checked my watch for the third time in as many minutes. She wasn't late yet, but there was a boulder of doubt in my stomach that had me sure she wouldn't come at all. It was a natural assumption after last time. How long had I waited that night? At what point had I known for sure that she was going to ghost?

I'd been more optimistic then. I'd waited hours. Now I relied on experience. If she were planning to show at all, the Jolie I'd known would have been early.

But I hadn't known her for a long, long time.

And the name was Julianna, not Jolie. No one called her Jolie but me, and I refused to call her that now. She didn't deserve it. In the week since I'd gotten her email, I'd practiced it over and over. Julianna, Julianna, Julianna. She wasn't Jolie anymore. Jolie disappeared the night I waited for her in a run-down pickup in the parking lot of a CTown Supermarket. Jolie was gone.

Again, I checked my watch. Not even thirty seconds had passed. Time was moving at a snail's pace. I cracked my neck from side to side before loosening my tie. I'd already taken off the jacket, and I was still sweating. It was a Saturday in December, for fuck's sake, and I was the only one in the Reach office. Did the guys keep the heater on over the weekends? No wonder the New York overhead was so high.

I crossed to the thermostat and was surprised to find it was actually set at an arctic temperature that only an asshole penny-pincher would have thought was acceptable, which made sense because Donovan and I were alike in that area. When we'd worked the office together in Tokyo, we'd had the trimmest budget of all the Reach locations. It had risen a bit when he'd moved to the States since I no longer had the time to keep a close eye on it. I hadn't really examined the New York numbers in a while, but I had a feeling they'd probably improved with his presence.

Regardless of company spending and the perspiration beading on my forehead, the current setting was not all that friendly. I'd be a bad host to leave it there. I considered doing just that before begrudgingly switching the heater on full blast. Hopefully, it would do something before Jolie showed up.

Not Jolie.

Julianna.

Fuck, this was a giant mistake. This whole thing. I shouldn't have opened the email. I shouldn't have responded. I shouldn't have told her I was going to be in New York for a wedding that I'd had no prior plans to attend. I most definitely shouldn't have dropped everything, boarded a plane, and flown halfway across the world to impatiently pace Donovan's office, waiting for her to show. Especially knowing she had a record for not showing.

If I'd been intent on justice, I would have ghosted her this time.

But it wasn't justice I needed most from Julianna Stark. It was closure. And that's why I was there-for me, not for her. And so help me God, if she'd stood me up again...

I forced myself to sit on the edge of the desk. It wasn't exactly a relaxed position, but it was better than wearing a hole in the carpet. Still antsy, I pulled out my phone and reread her email, even though I could recite it by heart without looking.

Cade,

I know I have no right to reach out to you like this, but there's no one else I can turn to...

My gaze skipped down to her signature. She'd used the name I refused to call her. The one meant to tug at my emotions. Fuck her for that. Fuck her for all of it.

My agitation renewed, I stuffed my phone back in my pocket and took a deep breath. I refused to be riled up when she got here. With my palms settled on my thighs, I traced the tattoos on the back of my hands with my eyes. It was a trick I'd taught myself a decade or so ago, back when the pressure of some of my bigger jobs got the best of me, and I needed something to help me focus. I hadn't had to use it since going into business with Donovan and the guys. Advertising was definitely a high-stress career, but it was legit, and that made it a walk in the park compared to what I'd done before.

The trick still worked. By the fifth sweep of my eyes along the inked skin, I was breathing more regularly, and even though the heat had kicked in, I was feeling cool enough to reach for my jacket.

Just as I fastened the button of the navy blue Armani, I heard the ding of the elevator arriving. Then the sound of two sets of footsteps clicking on marble flooring echoed through the hallway.

She was here.

Fuck. She was here, and I was going to keep it together, whatever it took.

I ran my hand over my beard, straightened my tie, then with a final curse under my breath, I clicked the button that turned the glass wall from opaque to transparent and moved to stand in front of it.

There wasn't a direct path to the elevators from Donovan's office, so I had to wait until the pair turned down the corridor, and then it was Fran that I saw first, the security guard that I'd tipped a hundred in exchange for personally walking my guest to the back office. Was it necessary? Probably not. I told myself I was being hospitable. Truth was, I didn't want to be alone when we first saw each other.

And when Jolie-I'd given up on calling her Julianna in my head-followed Fran around the corner, I knew I'd made the right choice because, even with her head bent and her eyes fixed on the floor, Jolie was a lodestone, and I was fighting really hard not to be iron. If it had been just the two of us, I wasn't sure I would have been able to resist her pull.

I wasn't sure I'd be able to resist her pull even with Fran between us.

Thank God for the glass wall.

Showing up now doesn't make up for not showing up back then.

In case that wasn't enough of a reminder, I forced myself to remember what had happened when I'd gone after her. My ribs hurt with the vividness of that memory. My shoulder throbbed where the bone had once been broken. My chest ached with the pain of a fractured heart.

And just like that, her pull on me diminished.

"I think she has it from here, Fran," I called out. The glass was between us, but the office door was open, so I could be heard. "Thank you."