Page 79 of How to Fall for the Secret Billionaire
She walks over, no hesitation. Takes the teacup from my hand and sips it, then looks at me with something close to delight. “Good job, Mr. Reid,” she says, smiling widely. “It’s perfect.”
And then she’s gone. She spins around, waves her goodbye cheerfully, and slips through the kitchen door like she’s late for something. Like nothing is weighing on her at all.
I stare after her.
The tea, moments ago warm and rich and layered with meaning, turns bitter in my mouth.
Aunt Edie clears her throat.
I look up and find her staring at me with that knowing expression she wears so well.
“Trouble in paradise?” she asks, her tone light, but not without intention.
So she noticed.
I shift on my stool, wrapping both hands around my teacup. For a moment, I stay silent, watching the door like Margot will come walking in any moment. But she doesn’t, so I turn to Aunt Edie.
“I came to Everfield to get away,” I say slowly, carefully. “And I have. I’ve had more peace here in three weeks than I’ve had in years.” I shrug. “I just… I’m scared that if I give too much of myself away, it’ll ruin that peace. I don’t want to be selfish. I just want to preserve it.”
I don’t think she’ll understand. I’ve kept my answers vague, half-formed, stitched together with good intentions. But Aunt Edie just smiles, gentle and knowing, like she’s seen all of this before.
“Well,” she says, lifting her cup. “The thing about truth is—it always finds a way. Whether we’re ready for it or not.”
She takes a slow sip, leaving her words to settle between us like steam rising from the tea.
I sigh and take another sip of tea, but it tastes dull now—thin and bitter on my tongue.
Aunt Edie watches me quietly, then reaches out and gives my arm a little pat. “Cheer up, sweetheart. It’s not the end of the world.”
I give her a weak smile, but don’t say anything.
“You leaving today or early tomorrow?” she asks gently.
I shrug, avoiding her gaze. “I haven’t decided.”
Aunt Edie studies me for a second longer, then nods to herself. “Well, don’t be in a rush. There’s a local wine-tasting event here at the inn tonight. It’s a small town thing, but it’s always fun. You’ll love it—I promise.”
I give a small nod. “Okay.”
With a satisfied hum, Aunt Edie rises from her seat, gathers her cup, and walks away, leaving me alone in the kitchen with my quiet thoughts and cooling tea.
MARGOT
The inn is buzzing—more than usual. There’s this spark in the air, like everyone’s moving to a rhythm only they can hear. Maybe it’s the music playing softly from Hazel’s speaker, or maybe it’s just the way everyone showed up with paint on their clothes and joy on their faces.
We’re in the backyard—me, Clara, Imani, Jo, Hazel, Ana, Maya, and Aunt Edie—all hands deep in fairy lights, tablescapes, and wine crates we’ve turned into rustic decor. Even Waffles is out here, nosing around and occasionally stealing ribbon when no one’s watching.
It’s fun. It’s the kind of day that makes me feel grounded. I laugh easily. I tease Clara when she knocks over a lantern. I high-five Maya when she figures out how to hang the heavy garland. I even let Hazel talk me into using gold-accented napkin rings because “they give autumn wedding energy.”
But in the back of my mind… is Cal.
It’s been there all morning. Even now, as I hang another row of string lights and step back to admire the glow, I can feel the thrum of his name somewhere in my chest.
He hasn’t come outside all day—since breakfast.
Will he leave this evening or tomorrow morning? I don’t know. His booking expires at eight a.m. tomorrow morning. Maybe he’s staying until then… or maybe he’s in his room right now, waiting for his Uber. Ugh.
I keep telling myself it doesn’t matter. That this day, this event, this inn deserves my full attention. But I don’t know how to manage it. I’m trying to pull away, but it’s hard. It’s so hard.
