Always My Babygirl: A Billionaire Romance

“Sounds good. See you soon.”

We hang up, but what I want to tell her is run. Get out of that car. Run from that man. A man that you know nothing about but knows everything about you. The man that has aided and assisted Gabriel in… stalking me.

But that’s crazy. Right?

Maybe the explanation is as simple as a hookup Shane has, or maybe he knows the landlord. After all, he is the Gabriel Lord. He has so many connections.

I make a mental note to ask Lexi how she got in. And if the answer is, no, that will calm my nerves and ease my mind. But if the answer is yes? If Shane had a key in his hand?

My stomach twists, making me feel sick. I don’t even want to think about it being true.

I need to go. I need to go to Lexi. I order an Uber. I close my computer. Grab my purse. Leave my office. Sam is behind her desk, talking with a potential client. I give them both my best boss babe smile coupled with a wave that would make Miss America jealous and head out.

I get one of those quiet drivers and I’m grateful. I’m trying to sort out this jumble of thoughts and making chit chat seems impossible.

No one needs to know of my inner turmoil. Least of all, Lexi. I know she sounded light and happy on the phone, going on about the trip out, but deep down she’s probably one sad love song away from a mental breakdown.

I need to be strong for her. I need to keep these worries to myself. Until I know something concrete, I’m going to smile, and pretend nothing is wrong.

After all, there’s a good chance that nothing even is wrong. That everything is perfect, and I’m just letting my past hurt keep me from getting close to someone.

But I’ll be damned if that man didn’t have someone in my apartment at record breaking speed…

I’m so deep in thought I’m shocked to find that we’re already pulling up to my building. I thank the driver and dash upstairs to find my sister.

She’s curled up on my gray sofa, wearing sweatpants with fuzzy hot pink socks on her feet. She’s got the remote in one hand, a bar of chocolate in the other. Relief and grief and happiness are all etched on her face as she greets me. “Miranda!”

I toss my bag down. Lock the door behind me. Not that it does any good if you’ve got a stalker with a key. I kick off my ballet shoes and snuggle down beside her on the couch. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Sorry I’m stress eating before lunch. Don’t worry, I’ll still be able to eat.” She waves the bar in front of me. “Want some?”

I shake my head. My stomach is tangled in knots. I’ve got no appetite. “I’ll wait till lunch.”

“Ugh. Look how skinny these celebrity women are.” She breaks off a little rectangle from the bar and points at the tv screen with it. “I so wish I was one of those people that couldn’t eat when they are depressed. Unfortunately, I’m the opposite. The breakup is going to put a solid fifteen pounds on me.”

“Speaking of food, what do you want to eat?” I eye her oversized Sherpa hoodie, messy bun, and red rimmed eyes. We’re not going anywhere. “Want me to order in?”

She nods, looking at me through her big, blue, baleful eyes. “Thai food—Panang curry. And sushi. And summer rolls. Oh, and get some of those little Crab Rangoons you got me the last time I was here.”

I grab my phone. There's a string of text notifications on the screen—all missed messages from Gabriel. I slide my finger up the screen, sending them away. I need to think. I need space. With effort, I ignore his messages and tap into my Grubhub app. “You’ve literally just named foods from at least three different restaurants, but you know what? I can make it happen.”

“Work that big sister magic.” She eats another square of chocolate, looking over my shoulder to be sure I’ve got her order right.

I get the Panang curry with beef and the fresh summer rolls from my favorite little Thai place on the corner. Then, I order Lexi’s favorite Dynamite rolls from the Sushi place on Fifth street.

I hit the button for Chow Funs. “Last but not least, the best Chinese place in Vegas to get the Crab Rangoons and,” I flip through the menu, “let’s order a Sweet and Sour chicken with white rice just to be on the safe side, because it looks like the Montague sisters are skipping spin class and staying in for dinner as well as lunch.”

“You’re the best. The absolute best.” She throws her arms around my neck, giving me a chocolatey kiss on the cheek. “Now, what gory, bloody, opposite of a rom-com movie should we watch?”