Found (Not Quite a Billionaire Book 3) by Rosalind James

was younger. After that, I pretended he wasn’t there and focused on what I was doing instead. What I could control. He couldn’t embarrass me if I didn’t show it. Good for me, probably, that I learned that lesson early.”
    He didn’t say any more than that, but he didn’t have to. I’d wondered what could possibly have forged that iron self-control, that nearly desperate need to be in command of not just himself, but every situation he was in. I had a feeling I had my answer. If I was terrified I’d end up like my mother, Hemi was even more terrified of ending up like his dad. Feelings were weakness, and showing vulnerability was offering yourself up for humiliation and pain.
    For now, I kept my hand on his leg and didn’t talk. He didn’t need me jumping all over that. He’d told me, had given me that gift, and I was going to respect it.
    “So can we all just agree on that and go have lunch?” Karen asked. “Because I’m starved, and Hope probably needs to feed the munchkin.”
    “Sadly,” I said, “it’s true.”
    “Then I reckon I know what my job is,” Hemi said, sounding a whole lot more relaxed.
    The second I got into the café, a small, cozy place a block from the Katikati beach, my stomach made an important announcement . I told Hemi, “I need something really fast. A . . . I don’t know. A muffin. Something. Right now.”
    “All right,” he said, looking a bit startled. “Uh . . . what else would you like?”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t care. Food.”
    He must have seen how agitated I was, because he told the woman behind the counter, “Can we get a savory muffin straight away, please? Pregnant partner. Emergency, eh.”
    She smiled, put a muffin on a plate, and handed it over, and I took it to a table and tried not to fall on it like a Labrador who’d just heard the rattle of kibble in the dish. But by the time Hemi and Karen arrived at the table carrying glasses and a carafe of water, the muffin was history.
    “Thanks,” I said. “I’m all better now. I can even wait for my lunch. I’m ready to talk to Karen.”
    “Uh-oh,” she said. “Why me? You guys could just deal with your own stuff, you know. Don’t bring me into it. I’m fine. I’m just here because I wanted to see you and Koro. I didn’t have any burning need for more drama. I’m the teenager here. I’m the brain tumor survivor, too. How come I’m the only normal person in this room?”
    “Well, see,” I said, “that’s the perfect segue. I need you to stay here with me and help with Koro for a few weeks and be your nice normal self.”
    She studied me for a few seconds. “Let me guess. Hemi told you that I’m actually, you know, having a normal teenage life, seeing a—gasp— boy, so now I must be whisked away to New Zealand before I, what? Start having group sex? Get pregnant? Oh, wait. I’m not the one who did that. Or maybe it’s because I left my shoes on the floor. I ate in the living room and forgot to pick up, and Mr. Clean can’t handle it. Time for military school. Geez. I’m a person, you know, not a robot.”
    “Well, no,” I said. “Actually, that’s not it. There are boys everywhere, so how would that change anything? And if you’re here, you’ll be leaving your shoes on Koro’s floor, and I know it. But I need your help, and so does Koro. I need to stay here for a while, and if you stayed, too, I could get a job. You could cook, because how will Koro manage with one hand? And you’re a better cook than I am already. Plus, I miss you. I really miss you.” Darn it, there were those tears again, right there behind my eyes.
    “You know what would be even simpler?” she said. “Let’s see. You could come home?”
    “Please, sweetie,” I said. “It’s just a few weeks. Please stay with me. I need your help.” And then I held my breath. I didn’t think I’d ever said that before, and it felt so scary to say it now, to hear her refuse again, to think that she