Bad Boy of Wall Street: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance by Samantha Westlake Page B

who's the real mastermind behind this, who's orchestrating everything from the shadows. But it's not going to be anywhere obvious. Hence the huge stacks of paper."
    "You couldn't have just copied everything onto a flash drive?" I asked with a slight glimmer of hope.
    "We'd still need to read through it all," he answered, shooting down that hope with his next breath. "And besides, it's not like I know what I'm looking for, so I can't go searching through digital files."
    "Oh, the two of you are up!"
    We both paused and turned to smile at Diana as she tottered in, beaming up at both of us. Today, the old lady had chosen a bright purple sundress with a yellow cardigan over it, and she looked like she belonged in an AARP ad, or maybe on the set of a geriatric Pottery Barn photo shoot. Of course, the shotgun-turned-cane slightly spoiled the illusion as she came into the kitchen, thumping along on the hardwood floors.
    "And what are you two planning for today?" Diana asked, moving over to her grandson. Rob bent down and gave her a little peck on the cheek along with his hug, and she smiled contentedly back at him. "Something fun?"
    "Afraid not, Granny," Rob replied. "More digging through those papers that are clogging up your study."
    "Well, at least maybe you can get rid of some of them after you've gone through them," Diana said. "So much paper. And then, maybe the two of you can take a break and go out to get some ice cream or something together! You'll deserve a break, after working so hard!"
    Rob sighed again, but he couldn't keep from smiling a little at his grandmother's exuberance. "We'll try and find some time to take a break, Granny," he promised.
    Diana nodded, as if she'd been after this promise all along. "Good. Well, I'm headed off to the shops."
    "What are you shopping for?" I asked, curious despite myself.
    "Oh, I'm not buying anything," she corrected me, turning her wrinkled, happy little smile on me. "But my friend Edna runs one of the downtown clothing boutiques, and I always make sure to drop in and say hello to her." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Edna's son works out on the west coast as some sort of programmer person with computers, and she never gets to see him. I think she'd be quite lonely, if I didn't keep her company!"
    Glancing up over the top of Diana's head, I saw Rob struggling to hold back a smile. "That's very noble of you, Granny," he managed to get out without bursting into laughter.
    Diana nodded. "Yes, it is, isn't it?" she said. "But I'd better get going, or I'll miss my bus! You two have fun together - but don't get up to too much trouble, okay?" She turned back and wagged her finger at us, like a parent warning her child to be good on Prom night.
    "We'll be good," we both promised her, and now Rob wasn't the only one fighting back laughter.
    Once Diana had left the little cottage, however, Rob's smile slipped sideways and dropped off his face. "I couldn't possibly imagine how she'd take it if she found out that she might lose the house," he confessed to me. "That's one of the reasons why I'm trying to work so hard and get this figured out. If I wait too long, someone at my firm might decide that they want me out of the way for good, and they'll pull the loan. Her heart would break to lose this place. All of her friends are around here, and I couldn't bear to see her in a retirement home."
    I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. Something about Diana just seemed full of life, an internal spark, and I couldn't see that trait hanging on in a senior center or retirement community. She was still able to get around fine on her own, and didn't need any assistance.
    "So, papers?" I asked, nodding in the direction of the study.
    Rob nodded, and led the way out to the room in question. "Yup. Remember, we're looking for anything unusual, some name that you see coming up a lot, or something that seems like it doesn't make sense. Anything that doesn't belong."
    "That's pretty vague," I