Page 56 of The Billionaire's Wake-up-call Girl

“I think you’re more ambitious than that.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Don’t I? I know you said something outrageous during our first call. You were coloring outside the lines. Experimenting. Or maybe it was an accident. I sometimes think that. I don’t know why you said it, but you did, and then you went with it. Followed where it led. That’s what a creative, ambitious person does. She tries different angles. Turns accidents into advantages. It makes me think you’re used to running your own show. Not doing a job a machine could do. You make things happen. You have a strong will. Yet you have integrity, too.”

“Integrity. My goodness.”

“If you didn’t have integrity, I think you would’ve taken me up on dinner. Or tried to squeeze me for money by now.”

“Maybe I’m playing the long game. Maybe I’m just that good.”

“You’re not working me. No, I’d know if you were working me. What’s more, you don’t take shit from me. You’re capable and you stick up for yourself. So what are you doing making wake-up calls? That’s what I keep asking myself.”

I twist around to my elbows, stunned. It’s as if Mr. Drummond knows me better after a few calls than Mason ever did.

Mason always acted like my bakery’s success was due to luck and location, and he sometimes had me buying it. As if building relationships and managing a crew and finding ways to help people create fun experiences through cookies didn’t qualify as hard work.

Also, the whole ironically frosted craft cookie thing came out of experimenting. Running with things.

“Aren’t you observant.”

“I’m a scientist. Observant is part of the job description. Still, what I can’t figure out is why you get so nervous when I set my sights on Hello Morning. Why do you care so deeply about a job you’re so utterly overqualified for? As if it’s a lifeline.”

“Do you analyze everyone like this?”

“Just you,” he says.

Something warms inside me. Because I love having his focus on me. Though he’s wrong about one thing—I don’t stick up for myself. Or at least, I didn’t stick up for myself when I was with Mason.

Though when I think about it, I do stick up for myself where Mr. Drummond is concerned.

I find that I like who I am on these calls with Mr. Drummond. As if I’m a more ideal version of myself. A more genuine version.

“For a moment, I thought maybe you’re homebound, somehow, or maybe caring for somebody,” he says. “But homebound or not, with your communication abilities and apparent control over your schedule, you’d be doing something that pays better. Sometimes I wonder whether you’re on the run or hiding. That would give you time on your hands, and also explain why you won’t go to dinner with me.”

I laugh. “And we’re back to that, folks! The most baffling question of all.”

“It is the most baffling question.”

I snort.

“Then I think to myself, are you in trouble?” His voice goes hard. “Is somebody threatening you?”

“Your imagination is definitely running wild now,” I say, even as shivers slide over me. What else will he get right?This is why they pay you the big bucks,I add.

“Answer me. Do you feel unsafe? Is your boss at Hello Morning the problem? Is it a boyfriend? A husband? An ex? If you’re feeling unsafe, you should tell me. You really, really should tell me.”

“Drummond—”

“I can be persuasive.” His voice has taken on a dark edge.

I’m imagining his stern, powerful self turned out at the world on my behalf. To Lenny and his guy. But it’s not for me. I can’t have him. Anyway, controlling men “helping” me is how I got into this mess.

“I’m not feeling unsafe,” I say. Which is technically true. At the moment.

“You promise?”

“Promise,” I say.

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