Page 417 of Biker's Virgin


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“In fact what?”

“Well, I spoke to both of them this morning,” Ben said. “It actually sounded like they would both be satisfied if the person they’re accusing was fired immediately.”

I frowned. “And what?” I asked. “They would just forget about this choker that’s allegedly worth close to a million dollars?”

“It would seem that way,” he said.

“I don’t buy that,” I said. “There’s something wrong with this picture. If you lost an expensive piece of jewelry, would you just walk away without doing your best to retrieve it?”

“So, they’re lying about the worth of the choker,” Ben said. “It wouldn’t be the first time a guest has overvalued an item that they’ve lost. They’re probably trying to get a compensation package from us and need to drive up the price a little bit more so that they can cash in later… Not that they would need the money or anything, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Is that what you think they’re doing?” I asked uncertainly.

“What else would they be doing?” he asked. “The Beaumonts are wealthy—why would they fake a theft? I’m guessing they really did lose a piece of jewelry. They probably don’t care about it very much, but they’re going to milk it for all it’s worth.”

I frowned. “Has Molly been made aware of the situation?”

“She has,” Ben nodded.

“Good,” I said. “She’s the best person to handle it.”

He nodded. “She’s good in a crisis.”

“By the way,” I said, realizing that I hadn’t asked the most important question yet. “Who are the Beaumonts accusing of stealing this choker?”

Ben’s face soured a little and he looked slightly uncomfortable. “Alani Kama. She’s one of the assistant managers.”

“Alani Kama?” I repeated. “As in…Molly’s friend?”

Ben sighed. “That’s the one.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Molly

I was sitting behind the desk of my newly minted office. It was a small and modest room compared to Tristan’s, but it was exactly the right fit for me. Plus, it had a great view of the ocean. This was only the third day in the new office, and I was still getting used to the feel of sitting behind a desk in my own personal space. I’d only ever had a cubicle, so this was a step up.

I had already lined my desk with pictures of my family, in large part due to the fact that I missed them terribly and was not sure when I would see them next. Tristan was absent from my little photo collection, however. Somehow, I felt as though adding his picture would put unnecessary pressure on our relationship. Over the last week or so I’d gotten the feeling that Tristan was growing a little…distant.

He was still affectionate, polite, and always gentlemanly, but I just sensed a certain nervousness beneath the surface. He did his best to hide it, but I was sensitive to his moods and knew he had certain reservations about us that were only just beginning to rise to the surface. I tried not to over-think, but unfortunately, it kept me up at night.

The one thing that did help was my work. I had made strides in the hiring process, the restaurants were now working smoothly, and the staff came to me if they had problems with anything. Most days I loved the work, and it was enough to keep my mind off Tristan.

But today was a different story altogether. Today, I hated my job because it meant handling a situation that I would have paid to avoid.

There was a knock on my door, and I stood up immediately and walked around my desk to answer it. Alani was standing on the other side, looking pale and close to tears. I didn’t say anything; I just stepped aside to let her pass.

The moment the door had closed behind her, Alani turned to me. She opened her mouth to say something but got choked up, and tears started pouring down her cheeks. I rushed to her immediately and hugged her.

“Hey, hey,” I said soothingly. “It’s alright… Come on, sit down and talk to me.”

I led Alani to a chair and sat her down. Then I pulled up the second chair and sat down right next to her. “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked. “Orange juice? Maybe some water?”

“Water, please,” she managed to croak out.

“Of course,” I nodded.

I poured her some ice water with a slice of lemon in it and passed her the box of tissues, too. She took both gratefully and managed to give me a teary smile. Once she had composed herself, I patted her gently on the arm.

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