Page 24 of Her Big Fat Hunky Billionaire Boss

They bowled for an hour, playing two games. Damian continued to improve while Kat had her worst two games of the year. Hilary didn’t seem to care about her score, as she looked like she was only there to flirt with Damian. By the end of the second game, Kat was ready to rip Hilary’s head off.

As soon as Damian went up to the counter to turn in his shoes, Kat rounded on Hilary. “Okay, you had your fun. Now make an excuse and leave.”

Hilary blinked. “Why?”

“You’re messing up my mission.”

“How am I doing that? You’re just jealous he likes me.” Hilary took off her bowling shoes.

Right. Jealous. No way. If Hilary even had a brain she’d know Kat hated Damian. But Lydia expressly said to make sure Damian fell in love with the town, not her sister. Kat huffed and put her hands on her hips. “If you stay, I’m telling him about the time you wet your pants at Chuck E. Cheese.”

Hilary frowned and pulled on her boots. “Fine. I’ll leave. But I’m staying over again, and you’re spilling everything when you get back.”

“Deal.”

Damian approached them and Hilary stood, slipping her purse over her shoulder. “Well, I must be going now. Nice to meet you, Damian.” She wiggled her fingers at him before stalking off to the front door.

Kat picked up the shoes Hilary left behind. “You hungry?”

“Starved.”

“Good. We can get some food at the carnival.”

Damian nodded and walked with her. “I’m looking forward to this famous Christmas Carnival.”

She nodded. “Me, too.” She tossed the shoes up on the counter as they passed.

The sun was almost down when they stepped outside, making the snow sparkle with the last of the evening light. Kat couldn’t help but feel a little excitement as they walked. She shoved that aside, mentally scolding herself. This wasn’t a date. She couldn’t like Mr. Fussy Pants. He was the enemy and she had to keep that in the back of her mind, or she’d really mess everything up.

Chapter 8

Damian cut a slice of his hot dog with his plastic knife and stabbed it with the fork. It looked disgusting with the chili on it, but when he put it in his mouth he had to admit it didn’t taste half-bad. The sound of bells jingling came from up the street. Crowds of people hurried by.

Kat squinted at him. “How is it that you’re in your thirties and have never gone bowling or had a chilidog?”

He shifted on the metal park bench. They were seated in a parking lot by a food truck. How could he explain what his childhood had been like? He’d grown up with nannies and catered parties. Fast food was not tolerated. His mother would faint dead away if she knew what he’d been up to today. “I grew up differently.”

“Like on another planet?” She picked up her chilidog and took a bite. He wasn’t sure how she did that without getting it all down the front of her.

“No. I was just brought up on the finer things of life.”

“Ah, I see,” she said around her food. “You grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth.”

Not wanting to debate about it, he said, “Something like that.”

“Well, there’s more to life than money.”

The familiar pang of regret entered his chest. “I know.” He sawed off another chunk of the hot dog with his knife. He didn’t want to think about Luke, or what happened ten years ago.

Kat swallowed and set down her chilidog on her plate. “So, tell me what you do when you’re not putting poor people out of work.”

Damian groaned. “I told you, I need to—”

“I know,” she said holding up a hand. “Just kidding. Sort of. I’ll shut up about it. What do you like to do in your spare time?”

“I don’t have any spare time.”

Kat gave him a funny look. “You just work? That’s it?”

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