Page 188 of Filthy Hot Billionaire
“Good morning,” she greeted. “How was Vegas?”
“Exhausting,” I told her truthfully. “But I think we’re right where we need to be for the grand opening.”
“That’s good news. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Bagel?”
“Coffee would be great, if you don’t mind. Is Emmett in yet?”
“He’s on his way,” she said. “I think he had a hard time readjusting to the time difference.”
That was understandable. Going to Vegas gained us three hours. When you spent a week there and acclimated to their time only to return and lose those three hours, it was tough.
I headed into my office and stopped suddenly in the doorway, staring at the seemingly endless vases of flowers scattered throughout. There was most definitely a florist in need of a re-stock.
A moment later, Zena joined me with the coffee I’d requested.
“Oh, sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know where to put them.”
“Do the cards say who they’re from?”
“Not a single one of them,” she answered, a hint of apology in her tone. “I wasn’t trying to be nosy. Mr. O’Rourke asked that I check them.”
“It’s fine.” I squared my shoulders and moved to my desk. I pulled out my phone and called Kieran.
“I have an office full of flowers,” I told him.
“Who’re they from?”
“The cards don’t say.”
I knew they weren’t from Kieran or Knox because I’d been with them all week. They would’ve had no reason to send flowers here. The only reason I was calling him at all was because I’d seen his reaction when I received flowers on Thanksgiving. He hadn’t been happy. Nor had Knox. Being that I knew no one else who would do a gesture of this magnitude, I was starting to understand why they were concerned. It was weird and maybe a little creepy.
“Should I be worried?” I asked him.
“No, love.” His voice softened. “I’m sure you’ve just attracted an admirer. We’ll figure out who it is and handle it.”
“Okay.” I relaxed somewhat, turned to see Zena stepping out of my office, smiling as she turned.
“Can I help you find someone?” she asked whoever it was.
“I think I’ve already found her, but thank you.”
I was still holding the phone to my ear when a figure filled my doorway.
“Oh my God,” I breathed on a hard exhale.
“What’s wrong, love?” Kieran asked, his voice holding an edge this time.
“I think that’s to be determined,” I muttered in response.
“Em? Who’s there?” he demanded.
“My father.”
Kieran’s next words weren’t suitable for young audiences, but I barely registered them anyway as I stared at the man I hadn’t seen since he ushered me out into the world on my own.
“I need to go,” I told Kieran, then disconnected the call and held my father’s gaze.
He smiled as though two years hadn’t passed since the last time I saw him, as though he hadn’t berated me the few times we’d spoken on the phone, as though he hadn’t blamed me for everything that happened.
