Wanted: Billionaire's Wife

Her nose stung. She willed the tears away. Crying only caused more problems, a lesson she had learned well.

A note was taped to the outside of the box, the cream-colored envelope embossed with Johanna’s initials. The heavy, linen-weave paper was leaden in her hands.

Hey, Danica!

I didn’t want to disturb you while you were with your family. But the Stavros Group offered me an amazing opportunity! I’m their new head of Asia-Pacific talent recruitment. I’ll be based in Sydney and traveling all over the world. They needed me right away so I couldn’t wait until you came back. :-(

Britt already has a new job, yay! Speaking of, do me a favor and make sure Britt forwarded the phones to the answering service? ;-)

I’ll try to call you when I get settled, but I’ll be super busy so it might be a while. Here’s your final paycheck and the number for the lawyer in charge of the business dissolution in case you have questions.

Ciao!

Johanna xoxo

Danica pulled out the attached pay slip. Two weeks’ severance had been added to it. Two weeks. That was all she was worth to Johanna? After giving her three years of her life, helping her build the company from the ground up, never taking vacation and only the very rare sick day? The emergency family leave had been the first time she’d been away from the office for more than forty-eight hours in a row.

She sank to the floor. This was worse than when her ex-boyfriend left her. At least then she’d had a job and could contribute to the family finances. Now? She didn’t even have her beaten-up car. She’d asked her roommate, Mai, to sell it for her to cover her share of the household expenses, since her plane ticket had eaten up her meager bank account. Nor could she ask Mai to let her slide on her rent payment. Mai’s finances were almost as precarious as hers.

Danica always managed to find the glimmer of light in darkness, to think her way out of what seemed like insurmountable odds. Until now. Try as hard as she could, her mind remained an opaque blank.

* * *

Luke watched Danica march to her cubicle, ponytail swinging as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He couldn’t help but notice other rounder portions of her anatomy also swaying. Too bad she was lying about reaching Johanna. He’d tried calling her several times himself. No answer, only voice mail.

He should return to his office and come up with plans B through Z. He would just have to sidestep his team’s questions about the acquisition the best he could.

A sniffle-like sound echoed through the empty suite. He shook his head. Tears were a cheap, manipulative trick. He reached for the doorknob.

A second sniffle ricocheted through the air, followed by a third.

Damn it. He turned and walked to the cubicle.

The noises were Danica shredding what looked like expensive stationery into tiny pieces of confetti. “Wanton destruction. Effective,” he said.

She gave him a quick smile, her eyes suspiciously bright, before returning to her task. “Johanna moved to Sydney.”

He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “You got her on the phone?”

She shook her head. “She left an old-fashioned note. I’d show you but it’s not legible now.” More paper fragments fell from her hands. “I guess the meeting on Wednesday is cancelled.”

“Yes.” A strange twinge of something like regret hit him at the thought of never seeing her again, but he shook it off. “I’m leaving. Good luck.” He held out his hand to be shaken.

She took it. Her palm fit against his as if it was meant to be there.

He cleared his throat. “If you hear from Johanna, tell her I need—”

His gaze fixated on a scrap of paper near his shoe. Stavr was written on it in loopy cursive letters. “Why is Johanna in Sydney?”

Danica shrugged. “Her note said she got her dream job.” She kicked at the scraps.

“A job with whom?” His stomach muscles contracted as if anticipating a hard blow.

“The Stavros Group. Why?”

The blow landed, square in his gut. He now saw just how thoroughly Nestor and Irene had prepared the trap. He couldn’t help but wonder who else in his social circle they’d co-opted. He bet if he called Gwen, the last woman he dated, he’d find she was filming out of the country—for one of the Stavros Group’s production companies.