A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss (by Gregory Ellington) novel Chapter 380

“Look, man, here’s the thing. Are you driving two hours each way to Connecticut every day? That’s insane. Total waste of time and resources.” Leo’s voice carried that particular blend of amusement and exasperation he reserved for my more questionable decisions. “You need a legitimate reason to be there. Something that doesn’t scream ‘obsessed ex–boss stalking former employee.“”

I frowned. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’ve got a real estate development project near Hartford. Mid–sized commercial property needs assessment and consultation before we move forward with the acquisition. Perfect excuse for you to be in Connecticut for, say, a week or two.”

“You want me to handle a consultation? Leo, I run Knight Industries. I don’t do field assessments.”

“Which is exactly why no one will question it if you decide to personally oversee this one. Call it due diligence. Call it hands–on leadership. Call it whatever the hell you want. I can hand over the entire project to you. Your company takes point, we split the commission. Win–win.”

I considered it. The idea had merit, annoying as it was to admit. “What’s the property?”

“Mixed–use development site. Retail space, offices, maybe some residential if the zoning works out. The owner’s motivated to sell, but the place needs a complete evaluation before we commit funds.” He paused. “It’s legitimate work, Alex. Not some made–up excuse. And it gives you a reason to be in Connecticut without looking like a complete psycho.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Think fast. The owner wants someone on–site by the end of the week.‘

I ended the call and gazed at the café, its cheerful façade mocking/me with its normalcy from where I’d parked.

What the hell was I doing? Sitting in my car like some teenager working up the nerve to talk to his crush. Pathetic.

I’d built an empire. Negotiated billion–dollar deals without breaking a sweat. Faced down hostile takeovers and corporate espionage with cold precision.

But walking into Madison’s café and actually talking to her? That required apparently more courage than I possessed.

“Fuck this,” I muttered, opening the car door.

The afternoon air was crisp, carrying the scent of coffee and baked goods from Harper’s Haven. I crossed the street with measured steps, each one feeling heavier than the last.

The bell above the door chimed as I entered. The café was moderately busy, with customers scattered at various tables, the low hum of conversation creating a comfortable ambiance.

Chapter 380

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Madison stood behind the counter, wiping down the espresso machine. She froze when she saw me, cloth suspended mid–wipe, her expression shifting through surprise, annoyance, and something else I couldn’t quite identify.

Then her face went blank. Professional. Distant.

A young woman bounced up to the counter. “Welcome to Harper’s Haven! What can I get you?”

I forced my attention away from Madison. “Black coffee. Large. To go.”

“Coming right up!” She beamed at me with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested either excessive caffeine consumption or a naturally bubbly personality.

Madison had disappeared into the back, leaving me standing at the counter like an idiot. Fine. Message received. She didn’t want to talk. 1

She handed me the coffee. “That’ll be $3.75.”

I pulled out a twenty, dropped it in the tip jar without waiting for change, and headed for the door. The bell chimed again as I left, Madison’s absence echoing louder than any words she could have spoken.

Back in my car, I stared at the untouched coffee. What now? Sit here like a stalker? Go back to the city and admit defeat?

The thought of following Madison home crossed my mind. See where she lived, maybe catch a glimpse of her life outside the café. But that was several steps past creepy and well into restraining order territory.

“Christ,” I muttered, setting the coffee in the cupholder. “Get a grip.”

I pulled out my phone and dialed Leo.

He answered on the second ring. “Tell me you didn’t actually sit in your car watching her café for three hours.”

“Two hours,” I corrected. “And I went inside.”

“Oh, progress! Did you talk to her?”

“I ordered coffee.”

Silence. Then, “You drove two hours to Connecticut to order coffee?”

“Yeah, and now I’m calling you about the project.”

“Right, the project. Much more important than your complete inability to communicate with the woman you’re clearly obsessed with.”

I ignored that. “Give me the address. I want to see the property.”

Leo rattled off the location. “It’s about twenty minutes from where you are now. Mixed–use development, like I said. Owner’s motivated to sell but wants someone who’ll preserve some of the

original architecture.”

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Chapter 380

“Preserve the architecture? That’s going to complicate things.”

“Hence why he needs someone experienced to assess viability. That’s where you come in, Mr. Hands-

On CEO.”

“When can I meet with the owner?”

“Give me an hour. I’ll set something up for tomorrow morning. You planning to stay overnight?”

I glanced at the café through my windshield. Madison was visible through the window, wiping down tables with efficient movements. “Yes. Recommend a hotel.”

“The Hartford Grand is nice. Or there’s a boutique place called The Whitmore Inn if you want something more low–key.”

“Book The Whitmore. Send me the details.”

“On it.” He paused. “You know, for someone who claims not to be stalking his ex–assistant, you’re doing a remarkable impression of it.”

“Goodbye, Leo.”

I disconnected and started the car, pulling away from Harper’s Haven without looking back. The GPS guided me through Connecticut’s winding roads, past perfectly manicured suburbs and stretches of forest that made Manhattan feel like a distant planet.

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