Billionaire For Ransom - Layla Valentine Page 0,2

going to stop expecting to stand on even footing with the men around me.

I allowed my shoulders to drop and some of the steel to leave my backbone now that the audience had left, and then dropped into a chair and heaved out a gigantic sigh just as Zoe, my assistant, came walking in, her always-present notebook clutched to her chest. She took one look at the retreating board members and then glanced at my face and seemed to come to all the right conclusions.

“Tough meeting?” she asked sweetly.

Zoe was always sweet. It was one of the reasons I’d hired her. I worked with too many sharks to want another one always at my side, sniping at me. It didn’t mean she wasn’t capable, though. Zoe was one of the only people I trusted to handle shit if I wasn’t around.

She was one of the only people who truly knew how hard I worked every day to maintain my status.

“Tough meeting,” I agreed.

She walked over, my keys already in her hand, and handed them to me.

“Take the afternoon off,” she said. “I’ve got the office under control, and almost everyone has gone home already, anyhow. No one wants to work on Friday night. Go find a place where you can breathe.”

I stared at her, wanting to refuse, wanting to tell her I had work left to do and that I really needed to stay here in case anything else came up… but then I realized how right she was. As usual.

At some point during the last hour, I’d forgotten to breathe. Hell, I didn’t know if I’d really taken a breath in the last five years, and suddenly I felt as if I’d been experiencing oxygen deprivation that entire time. Going someplace where I could just breathe sounded…

Pretty damn good.

“I think I’ll do that,” I said. “Thanks, Zo.”

Chapter 2

Alice

I went to a coffee shop first—though I seriously considered hitting a wine bar instead. I wasn’t positive that I needed more caffeine in my system. I wasn’t positive that I needed something that would hype me up even more, after the meeting I’d just gone through.

But coffee, much like red lipstick, had always been my comfort. The thing I went to when I was in trouble or needed some moral support. And that made this particular coffee shop—a small, locally owned business near my office—as close to a second home as I had.

I frequented this place anytime I’d had a bad day or just needed to get out of the office for one reason or another. I came here on my way home when I was leaving work early enough that I knew I’d go home and get right back into it. I hit the drive-through window on my way to work every morning.

So when I walked in that afternoon, I got the greeting of someone who spends far too much time at any specific coffee shop, bar, or restaurant.

“Alice!” the barista exclaimed. “It’s early for you to be here! Or late, I guess, depending on how you’re looking at things.”

I gave her a bit of a smile, trying not to think too hard about the reason for the timing. Thinking was for my next stop. This one was just for some comfort caffeine.

“Been a tough day, Sarah,” I replied. “I need some moral support.”

She nodded, her face completely serious, as if this was the most normal statement in the world when walking into a coffee shop. “The usual, then?”

“Better make it a double,” I replied, walking quickly toward the register to pay. As much as I had wanted—maybe even needed—the coffee shop and its ambience, this wasn’t my ultimate target. I wanted to get my drink and get out of here.

Before any of the people who knew to search for me here came looking, anxious to continue our earlier conversation.

The moment I pulled into the driveway at Heritage Rose Gardens, I knew Zoe had been absolutely right to send me out of the office and to a place where I could breathe. And I had been absolutely right to come here rather than sinking into one of the booths at the coffee shop.

The place wasn’t far from my office, and I could have walked if I’d wanted to, but I’d taken my convertible, needing the speed and the wind in my hair after that meeting. I’d also wanted the radio, the pounding of the music in my body, the way it shut out everything else. The way it got rid