Page 2 of Wrong Number, Right Billionaire (Wrong Number, Right Guy #7)

MAXIM

I stare at my phone long after the conversation ends, a smile tugging at my lips despite myself. When was the last time I smiled over a text message?

Ranger lifts his massive head from the couch, giving me a look that clearly says I'm disturbing his beauty sleep.

"Don't look at me like that," I tell him, scratching behind his ears. "You're the one who taught me that sometimes the best things come from unexpected encounters."

He huffs and settles back down, tail wagging slightly. Even my antisocial rescue dog approves of my mystery Atlanta stranger.

I should delete her number. That would be smart. I built this life to avoid complications, and a beautiful woman with a sense of humor is definitely a complication.

But instead, I scroll back through our conversation, rereading her messages. She's funny. Quick. Not intimidated by my obvious social awkwardness or the fact that I live in the middle of nowhere.

Well, that's what she thinks I do for a living.

I lean back in my desk chair, looking around my home office. Three monitors display real time data from tech companies, stock portfolios, and encrypted communications from my investment firm. The view shows nothing but mountain peaks and forest.

This cabin is my sanctuary. Where I retreat when the tech world becomes too much. Most people would call it isolation. I call it peace.

But for the first time in three years, my sanctuary feels too quiet.

My phone buzzes with an encrypted message from my assistant.

Elena: The Morrison Industries merger documents need your signature by tomorrow. And TechCrunch is asking for comment on the Spectrum acquisition rumors.

I close the message without responding. Elena knows better than to expect immediate responses when I'm at the cabin.

Maxim Chen, tech billionaire and founder of Apex Innovations, doesn't exist up here. Here, I'm just Max, a guy who chose mountains over boardrooms and animals over people.

My phone buzzes again, and my pulse quickens thinking it might be her.

Unknown: I know this is random, but I can't stop thinking about the bear dog story. Please tell me there are more rescue animal tales.

My heart does something ridiculous at seeing her message.

Me: Ranger isn't my only rescue. There's also Ghost, a wolf hybrid who was abandoned as a pup.

Unknown: You have a pet wolf?

Me: Ghost prefers the term "roommate." He's very particular about his household status.

Unknown: How does Ranger feel about sharing space with a wolf?

Me: They have an understanding. Ranger gets the couch, Ghost gets the entire back deck. I get whatever space they decide I can have.

Unknown: Sounds like you're definitely not the alpha in that pack.

Me: I learned early that arguing with a wolf hybrid about territory rights is a losing proposition.

Unknown: Smart man. What's Ghost's story?

I settle into the conversation, tension melting away.

Me: Someone bought Ghost as a puppy thinking wolf hybrids make good pets. When he got too big and wild, they dumped him in the mountains. He was half starved when I found him.

Unknown: That's awful. How did you gain his trust?

Me: Patience and a lot of raw meat. Ghost doesn't trust easily, but once you prove you won't abandon him, he's loyal for life.

Unknown: Sounds like he found the right person.

Something in that message makes me pause. She doesn’t know about my tech empire or bank account, but somehow, she understands that I know what it's like to be abandoned.

Me: What about you? Any rescue animals?

Unknown: I had a rescue cat named Trouble, but she passed last year. I keep thinking about getting another pet, but my schedule is demanding.

Me: What kind of marketing do you do?

Unknown: Beauty industry. Social media campaigns, influencer partnerships, brand management. It's not exactly saving wildlife, but it pays the bills.

I can hear her dismissing her own work, like it doesn't measure up to what she believes I do.

Me: Don't sell yourself short. Every job has value.

Unknown: Even alphabetizing sock drawers?

Me: Okay, maybe not EVERY job.

Unknown: So, what's your actual job title? Professional wildlife wrangler? Mountain hermit?

The question hits a nerve. I can't tell her I'm a tech billionaire without changing everything between us. But I can't keep lying either.

Me: I do freelance wildlife management consulting. Remote areas, problem animals, situations requiring someone comfortable working alone.

It's not exactly a lie. I do track and document wildlife behavior, even if it's more hobby than profession now.

Unknown: That sounds perfect for someone who prefers animals to people.

Me: Most of the time, animals are more honest than humans.

Unknown: Most of the time?

Me: Animals don't pretend to be something they're not. They don't have ulterior motives. A wolf wants food and territory and pack safety. Simple.

Unknown: And people are complicated.

Me: People want things they won't ask for directly. They say one thing and mean another. They disappear when things get difficult.

I hit send before I can stop myself, then immediately regret the bitter honesty.

Unknown: Sounds like you've been hurt by people who didn't deserve your trust.

Her response is gentle, understanding, without trying to fix me.

Me: Something like that. What about you? Besides Derek the Calculator, what's your dating history like?

Unknown: A series of men who looked good on paper but turned out boring in person. I'm starting to think genuine connection is a myth.

Me: Maybe you're looking in the wrong places.

Unknown: Where should I be looking? Mountain caves? Wolf dens?

Me: Accidentally texting strangers seems to be working pretty well for you so far.

Unknown: Is it though? For all I know, you could be a serial killer who collects wildlife as trophies.

Me: Would a serial killer rescue a bear dog and let a wolf hybrid claim his deck?

Unknown: Good point. Serial killers probably have better organizational skills.

I'm laughing again, actually laughing out loud in my empty cabin.

Unknown: I should probably let you get some sleep. It's late, and you probably have to get up early to track bears or whatever mountain men do at dawn.

Me: Actually, tomorrow I'm reviewing survey data and updating territory maps. Very boring compared to wrestling mountain lions.

Unknown: Survey data can be its own adventure. Especially if the wolves decide to change their patterns just to mess with your research.

Me: You have no idea how often that actually happens.

Unknown: Sweet dreams, mystery mountain man. Try not to let Ghost steal your entire bed.

Me: Sweet dreams, beautiful stranger.

As I head upstairs, Ghost raises his head from the back deck, yellow eyes tracking my movement. Ranger follows me up the stairs.

I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the silence that usually brings peace. Tonight, it just makes me aware that I'm alone up here. That for the first time in three years, alone doesn't feel like safety.

It feels like loneliness.

And maybe that's not the same thing.