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could finish, Madison had her in a bear hug. “Of course you can stay with me. And I would love to give you some money.”
    “Not give. I’ll pay every cent back.”
    Madison released her and laughed. “You are as prideful as they come, Chloe McAlister. Which is just another reason why I love you. Now would you please find me some chocolate? I’m feeling the need for a sugar high.”
    They ended up polishing off an entire bag of Chips Ahoy! cookies, but it didn’t give them much of a high. Madison was sad because Chloe was leaving, and Chloe was sad because she had to leave. Once Madison was gone, Chloe changed into her jean skirt and black T-shirt for work, then carried the remaining plants downstairs and left them next to Mr. Garcia’s door. She didn’t leave a note. Goodbyes were much easier without them. When she went back to her apartment for her duffel bag, the Romeo nightshirt caught her eye, the glittery name on the front standing out like a sign on the Vegas strip. Without another thought she picked it up and stuffed it in her duffel. Not only because it was her last gift from Madison, but also because it would serve as a reminder.
    Never become a man’s possession.

C HAPTER F OUR
    A fter being mistaken for a bum and almost arrested, Grayson went straight home and shaved off his beard. Not all of it—he left a little stubble—but enough to make him feel as naked as his nudist neighbors, the Huckabees. He thought about trimming his hair, but then vetoed the idea. He was as bad at cutting hair as Chloe.
    Or whatever her name was.
    Grayson had thought that Chloe didn’t want her face photographed or painted because of some silly girlie insecurity about her looks. But after what happened today, he had to wonder if the police officer was right and Chloe wasn’t who she said she was. It seemed likely, given that she didn’t have any identification or records. And if it was true, whom was she hiding from? The law? Her family? Another abusive jerk like Zac?
    The questions stayed with him as he showered and dressed in a gray designer suit, then drove back to the office. He was almost relieved when his phone rang and gave him something else to think about. But his relief was short-lived when he answered his hands-free cell phone and Deacon’s voice came through the car speakers.
    “So I’m going to assume that I don’t need to come bail you out of jail.”
    Grayson cringed. “I guess Kelly told you?”
    “It happened right in front of our corporate office. Did you expect our employees to ignore the fact that one of their bosses was lying on the ground in handcuffs? When I asked you to take over, Gray, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”
    As tired as Grayson was of being the perfect Beaumont brother, he hated disappointing Deacon. After their mother died, Deacon had given up a lot to make sure Grayson and Nash hadn’t gone without. Not only had he worked to provide them with clothes and food, but he’d also given up his savings so Grayson could go to art school. Grayson owed him. And causing problems for French Kiss was a shitty way to pay him back for everything he’d done.
    “I’m sorry, Deke,” he said. “It was all a misunderstanding.”
    “So you’re okay?”
    “Yes, I’m fine, and everything is straightened out—”
    Deacon erupted. “Straightened out? How can things be straightened out when one of the owners of French Kiss is plastered all over the Internet with the captions Billionaire Bashes Cop and Rowdy Romeo Gets His Panties in a Twist ?”
    Grayson tightened his grip on the steering wheel and blew out his breath. “Shit.”
    “Yes, I couldn’t agree more. You’ve gotten yourself into a pile of shit—and subsequently, the company.”
    “But I didn’t mean to hit the guy. I was trying to help…this woman and things got out of hand.”
    “We both know that the truth doesn’t matter. The public only knows what it reads. And the damned online rag-mags have you pegged as a