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He spotted her standing by the rose bush, inspecting the blooms and petals. He’d caught her staring at it numerous times now. She was wearing a pair of faded black jeans with the ankles rolled up and a bit of rope as a belt. Her tank top was more gray-looking than white and covered with rips, exposing slashes of pale, smooth skin. He swallowed thickly as he got out of his car.
The dogs were barking and covered the sound of his approach. He waved his arms trying to get her attention, not wanting to scare her.
She startled when she saw him, her stare darting back towards the shelter. “I told you not to come back,” she snapped.
Even though she was annoyed, he liked seeing the fire behind her eyes. “I know and I will leave, I just wanted to give you this.” He waved the folder at her.
Her eyes narrowed. “What is it?”
“Reasons to trust me. A shit load of them.”
A thick dark brow raised skeptically and she didn’t move to take it.
“This is kinda heavy…” he teased, still holding the folder out to her.
He thought her lip quirked up and his pulse pounded. “I’m sure you can manage it,” she replied but still didn’t make a moveto take it. He saw the wariness was back in her eyes, and decided not to push her.
“I’ll leave it here and go. I really hope you look at it, Rebelle. I’ll come back tomorrow and if you decide you don’t want me here then that’s fine, I’ll take your word and I’ll leave you alone.”
She didn’t say anything as he placed the folder on the ground and backed away, turning and heading towards his car.
Before he drove off he called out to her, “Sometimes you need to take a chance. Sometimes it pays off.”
*
Rebelle watched as his fancy car drove off, kicking up a plume of dust which floated after him. She looked down at the ground, the breeze had lifted open the folder that was full of documents. Curiosity got the better of her and she picked it up, taking it into the shelter and placing it on the table, staring at it.
Bryan nudged her with his wet nose before licking her and she hissed in surprise. “You know I don’t like it when you do that,” she scowled at him, rubbing the wet patch on her arm before bending and giving him a hug.
Ever since she demanded Will leave the shelter the other day, she had been restless, not knowing what she needed to feel right again. When she’d seen him at the bar last night, her stomach had twisted itself into knots, feeling guilty again and wondering if she regretted her decision to fire her volunteer. She scoffed to herself at the thought of a billionaire volunteering at her shelter.
Rebelle lifted the front of the folder, peeking at the page inside which, having a quick glance over it, held Will’s financial records. She flushed and slammed the folder closed, feeling like she was invading his privacy.
She cleared her throat and continued with her chores. When she finished cleaning everyone and administering medicine, she found herself wandering around, at a loss with what to do next.She went into the kitchen and found some scrap paper, jotting down some ideas and designing little posters to put up around the town.
She distracted herself all day from thinking about the contents of that folder until night fell and she lit her candle, the scent of roses calming her as unrolled her sleeping bag across the cold, unforgiving concrete floor.
Then she finally gave in. She grabbed the folder, pulled her sleeping bag around her and opened it up.
It was all there.
The complete history of William Joseph Crawford.
Rebelle discovered his dad left when he was a kid, that he had grown up in a trailer park. That he worked his way up through business school and how he became the fearsome man he was today. She looked at his financial records, flushing at just how much money was in the bank, but also how much money he was giving away. To support colleagues and small businesses, to support foundations and help charities.
She read through his contract forThe Viper Pitand saw the clauses he’d highlighted that outlined the behavior expected of him on set and during filming. There was even a report card from his high school teacher which went into detail about what a bright young man Will was and how he cared for others.
Testimonies from friends and fellow entrepreneurs, news articles showing the bad and good that had been reported on Will.
Rebelle devoured the information. Reading each document with precision, until wax was dripping onto her sleeping bag and her eyes drooped, fatigue overtaking her. She read for hours, until the early morning rays appeared and she blew out the candle, finally drifting into a peaceful sleep knowing the complete history of Will.
And she realized as she slipped into slumber that she had once again made a mistake sending this man away.
When she awoke later it was just in time to hear a car door slam outside. Her heart pounded in her chest, her pulse thudding in her ears as panic rose up inside her. She frantically tidied away the papers, shoving the sleeping bag to one side just as she heard a knock on the door.
“Rebelle?” his voice echoed through the door.
“Shit,” she hissed, leaping out of bed, her back cracking from the sudden movement. She rubbed sleep from her eyes and slapped her cheeks hoping to get some color in them so that she didn’t look like she’d just got out of bed.
