Mending Words With The Billionaire (Artists & Billionaires Book 5)

by Lorin Grace

  Bread pudding tonight?

  He didn’t wait for an answer. It would be after five thirty when she read it.

  thirteen

  At six thirty, April tapped Zoe on the shoulder. Out loud she said, “See you tomorrow. Have a good night.” She signed, “You are the only one here. Go home.”

  Zoe pointed to her screen and signed, “Five minutes. Gina needs this emailed before seven for her meeting in LA.”

  April bit her lip and looked at her watch. “Fine, but text me later.”

  Speaking, Zoe said. “You too. Good night.”

  At the end of the hallway, the elevator dinged. Zoe opened her personal drawer and grabbed her phone. Company policy or not, she felt safer with the phone in her pocket.

  Five minutes turned into ten as she added a point of leading here and changed the tracking there. Deciding she didn’t dare wait any longer, she uploaded the file to the company cloud and sent an email to Gina attaching a JPEG copy of the final layout. She only had to wait a moment before she received a confirmation email with two words. “Good work.”

  Zoe shut down her computer and gathered her things. As she passed Mr. Dodd’s office, he called out. “Night, Zoe.”

  Covering her racing heart with her hand, Zoe choked out, “I was just leaving.”

  “Did I scare you?” He pushed back from his desk, the picture of his family from a recent vacation perched on a stack of papers wobbling with the motion.

  “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

  Mr. Dodd held up a catalog from the shoe company they were pitching to next week. “I’m working on the team project for the new athletic-shoe account and trying to decide if you should be on it.” He stood and came around the desk, then leaned on the front side. “Do you have a moment?”

  She took one step inside the door.

  “In today’s meeting, you didn’t seem to agree with James’s take on the campaign. Would you mind telling me your thoughts?”

  She took a deep breath, not sure her initial ideas were relevant. “Every shoe company sponsors some athlete. Don’t get me wrong—I think Olympians are cool, but they aren’t obtainable. What about shoes holding up to real life? Running to catch a train, playing soccer with the kids, strolling in the park with a significant other, not running the 400-meter.”

  He nodded. “I like it. Add them to the board.” He waved his arm at the whiteboard covering the entire side wall of his office.

  Zoe set her bag down on a chair and chose a purple pen from the basket. Halfway through the second-idea map, Mr. Dodd moved from the leaning against the desk to stand behind her. Zoe reached up to an empty spot and started writing. Walking in a p—

  He moved closer, his hand settling on her back, below her waistline. “Do you walk in the park with a boyfriend?”

  Zoe froze. Images of a different man, a different place, filled her head. The smell of soy nuts wafted against her cheek. She hated soy nuts. They weren’t real. His hand moved lower as he took a step closer and wrapped his other arm around her front. No! This was not happening. She was stronger now. Smarter. Her voice came back strong. “Remove your hands.”

  He pulled her back into his chest. “Aren’t you a team player? Don’t you want the shoe campaign in your portfolio?”

  Her months of training at the little makeshift gym at the end of the strip mall kicked in. She spun around quickly, using the pen as a weapon to slash at his face, a purple line marring him nose to ear. He swore and shoved her against the board, pinning her, his mouth grabbing hers. Soy nuts and slime. Zoe bit down at the same time she shoved the pen into his side. He leaped back far enough for Zoe to scream “No!” as she slammed her foot on his instep and brought her pen hand up to his face with enough force to knock his chin back. His hand yanked on her new blouse. Buttons flew and fabric ripped.

  “Ki-ah!” Zoe aimed for his knee as he spouted off a string of expletives and lunged for her. She put all the power she had behind the next two moves.

  Mr. Dodd doubled over, adding new expletives to his tirade. Blood gushed from his nose.

  Zoe ran for the elevator. She pushed the buttons, but the floor indicator showed the elevator was ten floors above. Behind her, Mr. Dodd yelled. She ran around the corner to the stairway. She hit the release bar, the sound echoing loudly in the empty stairwell. Nausea rose as she looked down the stairwell. Twenty-seven floors. She’d never make it, even if she ditched the heels. Across the hall, a door stood ajar, a yellow custodian’s cart next to it. Zoe dove for the door and shut it behind her, throwing the lock. The closet smelled of fake pine and lemon—cleaners that couldn’t even begin to remove the filth that clung to her. Leaning back against a shelf full of toilet paper, Zoe tried to catch her breath. How long until he realized where she was and found a key? Or the custodian came back. She pulled out her phone. Should she dial 911? Or building security? She swiped the unlock code. An unanswered text from Nick sat at the top of her screen. He would know what to do, and she wouldn’t need to risk talking.

  Help! Trapped in the custodial closet, 27th floor.

  —Call?

  NO!

  Footsteps pounded down the hall.

  He will hear!

  Her boss was close now, his yells echoing from the stairwell. Zoe assessed the closet for a weapon even as she prayed he would go down the stairs.

  —Security is on their way up.

  K

  —Who will hear?

  Mr. Dodd

  The doorknob rattled. “Zoe!” yelled her boss.

  Hury! She didn’t care about the misspelled word. She didn’t have time. Only now did she realize that her boss would be between her and all methods of escape.

  —Sebastian and I are a block away.

  Zoe put her phone in her pocket and grabbed a bottle of cleaner, unscrewing the lid. This time she would defend herself with every resource she could find, but in the back of her mind, she knew how far that could go. She prayed someone would get there before—

  “I know you are in there!” A key scraped inside the lock.

  The elevator pinged, and her phone vibrated.

  Angry voices.

  She gripped the bottle tighter.

  The lock popped, but the door remained closed.

  Mr. Dodd yelled more expletives. “She attacked me!”

  “Zoe!”

  At the sound of Nick’s voice, she released the breath she had been holding and dropped the bottle, splashing her pants with pine-scented cleaner.

  The doorknob turned. “Zoe? It’s Nick. You are safe now.”

  He held out his hand, but she bypassed it, diving into his arms instead. They closed around her. Cinnamon and sandalwood aftershave. He kept talking, but she couldn’t hear over the thought that she was safe.

  “You’re safe. You’re safe . . . ” Nick repeated the words. Sobs shook Zoe as she pressed farther into his arms. The elevator pinged behind him. The newcomers identified themselves as the police. He held her tighter, hoping to give her strength for what would come next. He’d watched enough TV shows to know that talking about what had just happened would be hard.

  Mr. Dodd continued to shout. Nick wished he could cover his ears as well as Zoe’s. The man was vile.

  Someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Sir, I’m Detective Anderson.” A dark-haired female showed him a badge. “I need to speak to the victim.”

  Nick eased his hold on Zoe and coaxed her to do likewise. Zoe’s hair hung askew, half out of her bun. Her pale-pink blouse was torn, and buttons were missing. Nick slipped off his coat and draped it around Zoe’s shoulders before stepping back and allowing the detective access.

  “Miss? I’m Detective Anderson,” the woman repeated herself. Zoe nodded. The officer turned to Nick. “Name, please?”

&nb
sp; “Nick Gooding. This is Zoe Wilson.”

  The detective’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second when he said his name. “Mr. Gooding, if you will speak to one of my fellow officers. Miss Wilson and I will find a better place to talk.”

  “There is a lounge area on the other side of the wall, or if Zoe prefers, there is a windowless boardroom the next floor up you can use.”

  Detective Anderson narrowed her gaze. “You can give me access to this how?”

  “I own the building. By the way, I had my assistant put a call in to Adrian Scott. Either he or Shayne Ricks should be here soon.” Nick didn’t back down at the detective’s glare.

  The detective turned back to Zoe and spoke in low tones. A man stepped into Nick’s line of vision and stuck out his hand. “I’m Detective Francis. Will you step over here and answer a few questions?” Although phrased as a question, Nick had no option. He watched as Detective Anderson walked Zoe back into the office area.

  “How did your driver come to be the one to call this in?”

  Nick spent the next ten minutes answering questions. When the officers listened to the 911 call, they would hear his voice as well as Sebastian’s. It had been dumb luck, or divine intervention, that the last meeting had run over by an hour, or he would have already been uptown. For once he was grateful for a long, boring meeting.

  Mr. Dodd continued to yell even as a uniformed officer read him his rights. Too bad the right to remain silent wasn’t a demand. Adrian joined Nick and the detective and volunteered video from the hallway cameras. The detective accompanied Adrian upstairs.

  Nick leaned against the wall, trying to plan what he should do next but found he was clueless. A uniformed officer came over. “Mr. Gooding, Detective Anderson would like to see you.” The officer showed him back to the lobby area. Zoe sat at one end of a designer couch. The detective stood to meet him before he could reach Zoe’s side.

  “She says you will give her a ride home. Is that correct?”

  “If she wants, yes.”

  “She is free to go. Her bag and coat are in Mr. Dodd’s office. As soon as they are done photographing, she can take them. It should be just a moment.” The detective left.

  Nick crouched down in front of the sofa. “Zoe?”

  She looked up with tears in her eyes, her arms wrapped around her waist and holding his coat in place.

  Helplessness flooded Nick. Money wouldn’t help. The district attorney would handle the case. His bodyguards, who no doubt were mingling with building security and police on the other side of the wall, couldn’t rewind time and take down Dodd before. All he had to offer was what comfort she would accept. “What can I do?”

  “Make sure he never comes near me again. Next time I won’t go so easy on him, and I don’t want to be responsible for his death.” He was not prepared for the venom in her voice.

  “I doubt he will be able to work in this city after his trial.” It wasn’t much, but it was all he had to offer.

  Zoe shuddered.

  The uniformed officer reappeared. “Miss Wilson, if you would like to get your bag, you may do so now.”

  She wiped her eyes with tissues and stood. Nick followed her and the officer down the hall. After seeing Mr. Dodd’s scarred face, he expected the office to have sustained more damage. Zoe didn’t look at the smeared whiteboard or the scattered papers from the end of the desk. She simply grabbed her bag and coat and shot back out of the room. Nick took another moment to assess the damage. On top of the papers lay a broken picture frame surrounding a smiling family. The man had ruined more than one life tonight.

  Sebastian stood next to Zoe where she spoke to Adrian. They all looked up at his approach.

  With a low voice, Adrian Scott filled Nick in. “I told Zoe Mr. Dodd is no longer in our employ.” Then he turned back to Zoe. “I am deeply sorry this happened. I’ll call Gina tonight. Since she is in LA, tomorrow I’ll come down to the graphics department and we will have a meeting. HR will be available then. There is only one complaint in Dodd’s file for verbal sexual harassment several months ago, for which he took a mandatory sensitivity class. The last intern left abruptly but claimed her departure was because of an issue at home, but I wonder if everything got reported.” He turned to Zoe. “If you want the day off or need any off in the future because of what happened tonight, I’ll authorize paid leave. Also, our insurance covers counseling at 100 percent.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Scott. I’ll think about coming to work in the morning. I know I’ll need to face everyone, but it might be easier after the initial announcement has been made.”

  Adrian nodded. “And, Zoe—” He waited until she focused on him. “You have talent. Gina has sent me more than one report of how pleased she is with your work. Don’t let him ruin your career or your life. By the way, the purple marker was a nice artistic touch.” Adrian’s face betrayed no emotion.

  The elevator opened. Sebastian held the door while Nick and Zoe entered. When the doors closed, his driver spoke. “My wife and I have an extra room if you would rather not be alone tonight.”

  “Thanks, Sebastian, I’ll be fine. I don’t need to put you out.”

  “It wouldn’t be putting us out.”

  Zoe shook her head. Nick’s coat swallowed her up. At some point, she had buttoned the top button. He had only been vaguely aware there was a button near the collar of his cashmere top coat. The effect made her look smaller and more vulnerable than she was. He longed to hold her but was unsure how she would take the contact as she’d kept her arms wrapped around her middle. Nick slid closer. Zoe didn’t move. She didn’t even seem entirely aware of him. He might not know what to do, but he knew one thing not to. Zoe should not go home alone, at least not yet. He racked his brain for anything else he could do. His money couldn’t solve this. He couldn’t solve this. But he would still try.

  When they reached the first level of the parking garage, Sebastian held open the car door for Zoe. Nick walked around to the far side. Sebastian caught his eye and zigzagged his finger in the air. Nick nodded in agreement and got in the back seat, glad his driver had the same idea.

  fourteen

  Headlights.

  Storefronts.

  Streetlights.

  The coat smelled like Nick. Cinnamon and sandalwood. It smelled like safety.

  Zoe took a deep breath. She could almost taste the cinnamon. How long had she been in the back of the car? She felt her soul coming back from where it had fled. Buildings came into focus. Her hand hurt. She must have bruised it during the fight. Her shoulder did too. The taste of soy nuts still lingered.

  “Gum?” Her voice sounded distant. She tried again. “Do you have any gum, please?”

  “It’s in the right pocket of the coat you are wearing.” Nick didn’t touch her as he pointed.

  She pulled out a glove, then the gum. The cinnamon burned her mouth, incinerating the flavor of soy nuts. Words she’d had to force out to the detective faded. Memories of other interviews and of other questions hovered, waiting to pounce, but Nick’s gum fought them back. For now, she was safe in the back of a town car. “Thank you for coming and everything.”

  Next to her, Nick shifted in his seat. “I’m glad you called. Building security got there just as he was trying to unlock the door. If you had called 911—”

  “I had a bottle of cleaner I was going to throw in his face. I am glad I didn’t have to. I keep seeing the picture of his family on the desk. I don’t think I could have faced them if I had maimed him or struck a killing blow.” She hadn’t thought about which moves to use, just reacted, but that was the purpose of all her hours at the gym. Never again meant never again. The clearest memory she had of the fight was seeing the family photo fall from the table. Other memories would come later, or not. This time she wouldn’t hide from them.

 
“Hungry?”

  Zoe ran her hand over his coat. “I’m not exactly dressed to go out.”

  “I wear that cashmere coat all the time. Are you telling me I shouldn’t?” Nick’s teasing tone nearly coaxed a smile from her. “But I asked if you are hungry. Every other restaurant has take-out. We can eat in the car.”

  “I should be. I think if I had food I would eat it.” Would it stay down was another question.

  “I didn’t get dinner either. Do you mind if I order for you?”

  She nodded and looked out the window. Sebastian had found a street she didn’t recognize. He was driving around to give her time. She wouldn’t protest. She didn’t want to go back to the apartment, where old and new nightmares awaited her. When Nick finished tapping an order into his phone, she felt he was watching and waiting for her to say something more, but she didn’t look his direction. She wasn’t ready for more words, and she wasn’t brave enough to ask for another hug.

  Sebastian circled the block. When the heated seat grew too warm, Zoe turned down her control, and as she unbuttoned the top button of the coat, Nick took a sudden interest in the world outside his window.

  She reached out and touched his arm. “The detective took my shirt for evidence. I have on a shirt the EMT pulled from someplace. I may be mismatched, but I am dressed.”

  Nick turned to look at her. “Not mismatched. Your black skirt accents the heather gray of the shirt, but the neon logo . . . ” He hung his head in mock shame.

  The car stopped, and Sebastian ran into a restaurant.