Page 15 of The Billionaire in Her Bed

“Ward,” he barked, his frustration with the desk bleeding into his tone.

“What kind of way is that to talk to your baby sister?”

His mood immediately softened, and he sat back on his haunches, letting the useless instruction sheet flutter from his fingers to the floor. “Sorry, Paigey. I thought you were the movers.”

“Movers?” He could hear her confusion and concern. “What’s going on? Your message on my voicemail was totally incomprehensible.”

He gave her the condensed version, skipping the whole Brooke situation and focusing on his suspicions about a mole at Momentum and his plans for Candy Court.

“So, let me get this straight,” Paige said when he was done. “Someone may or may not be sabotaging Momentum.”

“Right.”

“And you think that someone is your business partner.”

“Right.”

“So, you’ve gone underground in Brooklyn at a former candy factory that you want to renovate, and you’re holed up there until you figure out who’s out to get you.”

“Not renovate, convert,” he clarified. “Into luxury apartments.”

“Whatever.” He could almost see his sister’s eyes rolling. “You don’t understand organic chemistry. I don’t understand real estate development. That’s how our relationship works.”

He lowered himself the rest of the way to the floor, pushing aside a plastic bag with nuts and bolts so he could sit. “Point taken.”

There was silence on the line for a few seconds then Paige asked, “Can I still do my laundry at your place?”

“You have a key. It’s not like I could stop you.”

“Thanks.” Something rustled over the line, like she was shuffling papers. Was she at the lab? On a Saturday? “I don’t have to water your plants, do I? You know I suck at keeping things alive.”

“Says the organic chemist.”

“So, you do understand organic chemistry.”

“Maybe a little,” he conceded. Enough to know she’d never lack for work, with her summa cum laude Ivy League degrees. Which was what he wanted for her. Safety. Security. Happiness. The things he’d tried so hard to provide since their parents’ deaths.

“You never answered my question.”

“No, Paige.” Eli rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “You don’t have to water my plants. That’s what I have Ginny for.”

“She’s your administrative assistant, not your housekeeper.”

“She’s whatever I need her to be. And right now, that’s my everything until I’ve got this mess at the office sorted out.”

“Sometimes you are such an arrogant jerk.”

He smiled, eyes still closed. “Part of my charm.”

“You wish,” she scoffed. “What about Geek Girls?”

The charity his parents—his dad a neurosurgeon, his mom a cardiologist—had started. They’d seen how few opportunities there were for girls like their math-and-science-obsessed daughter, so they’d taken matters into their own hands, connecting girls interested in careers in science, technology, engineering, and math with mentors in their chosen fields, creating programs that taught girls how to write code, and publishing an online magazine with a different STEM theme each month.

The charity had struggled in the lean years after the accident, but one of the first things Eli had done when he made it big was get Geek Girls back on its feet. For his parents. And for Paige. “What about it?”

“The silent auction’s the second Saturday in April. Will you be there?”

Eli sat up, eyes open. “Of course I will. You know I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

“Even if you’re still hibernating in Brooklyn?”

“For you and Geek Girls, I’ll come out of my cave.” Even if that meant he’d have to deal with Simon, who served with Eli and his sister on the board of directors and was bound to be in attendance as well.

“I take it back. You’re not an arrogant jerk. You’re a prince among men.”

Great, he thought as they said their good-byes and he hung up the phone. Now if only he could get Brooke to agree.