Page 33 of The Fake Fiance's Billionaire Adversary
Besides, even if she did tell them the truth, she couldn’t return to Tybee. With a mandatory evacuation order, they wouldn’t allow her access for days or even weeks. She was helpless…and worn out.
Taking a deep breath, Reagan forced herself to get it together. “I appreciate that, Caroline. If you all don’t mind, I’m going to go lie down and try to get some sleep.”
“Are you sure?” his mom asked.
Forcing a smile, Reagan nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thank you for checking on me.”
Caroline took her hand and patted it. “Sure, sweetheart. If you need anything, just let us know, okay?”
“Okay.” Reagan held the smile in place until she stepped into her room. She wasn’t okay. She was tired, hurt, and sad. Hopeless and helpless. Which seemed to be a way of life for her. If Carlin had taken over the bed and breakfast, it would probably be doing great.
“I know you’re not okay.” Hunter’s voice was soft. It almost made her think things were fine, but they weren’t. She was already pretending to be his fiancée, and that was all she had in her at the moment.
She crossed the room to her bed, set her clutch on the nightstand, and raked her hand through her hair. Tears threatened to spill again, but she forced them back. “I’ve been on my own a long time, Hunter, and while I appreciate the kindness, I can only pretend so much. Could you just leave me alone for a while?”
Heartbeat after heartbeat, he was silent until she heard him take the doorknob. “I’m here if you need anything, okay?”
Reagan nodded. “Yeah.” As soon as the door was shut, she crawled onto the bed and curled into a ball.
Whatever spirit she’d had left shriveled up and died. For the first time since she’d taken over The Sandy Pelican, she felt defeated. Not just that, flattened. She was holding on to something with both hands, and everything was doing its best to pry her hands off. How much more did she have to give before something good happened?
It seemed her fate in life was to be on the precipice of something great, only to see it slip from her fingers. Nothing ever seemed to work in her favor. Not with Hunter. Not with the bed and breakfast. Not with anything. For the first time in her life, not a single inch of her had an ounce of hope left.
Chapter 15
Once again, Hunter found himself at Reagan’s door, hesitating to knock on it. The past week, the tension between them was like an extra person in the room. He was still struggling with her knowing about his money, and she was stressed about her business, especially since they still weren’t letting people back on the island yet. It was a combination guaranteed to cause issues.
The hurricane had hit the island, but it had shifted farther south than predicted. It was good news, and at first, Reagan seemed to have handled it well. The last couple of days, though, she’d become withdrawn, and he was worried about her at this point. Not to mention, he was tired of his mom asking him about it. The last straw was Reagan missing lunch.
Frustrated with himself, he knocked on her door, hoping he could talk to her. When she didn’t answer, he knocked again. “Reagan, can we talk please?”
When she didn’t answer, he knocked again. “Reagan.” No answer. He turned the knob and cracked the door a bit. “I’m coming in, so if you’re not dressed, it’s your fault because I’m warning you.”
Silence.
He groaned and pushed the rest of the way in, finding her cross-legged in the middle of the bed with papers strewn all around her and headphones on. “At least you weren’t ignoring me on purpose.”
With that, she looked up and pulled off her headphones. “You could have knocked.”
“I did. You didn’t answer.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Perhaps I didn’t answer because I didn’t want to talk to you.”
He grumbled under his breath. “Well,Iwant to talk to you.” His attention drifted to the mess of papers spread out around her. “What are all these papers?”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what we were going to be doing here, so I brought the financial records for the bed and breakfast. I’m certain the roof is history. I can’t do it myself, so I’ll have to contract that out. Same with the floors because they’ll have damage as well. But the rooms, I think I can do that. I’ve watched a few videos on it, and it doesn’t seem that difficult. Most of the cost for that will be materials.”
“I’ve been worried about you. I thought…” He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “I thought you’d…”
“Given up? I want to. It seems I’m fighting an uphill battle. With the storm damage, it’ll take a while before tourism bounces back. In the meantime, I’ve still got the equity line to pay.” She sighed. “I honestly don’t know why I even thought I could make it work.”
He took her hand, but she pulled it away. Her eyebrows knitted together, and her lips were set in a hard line. “We’re alone and don’t have to pretend.”
“I’m not. I do care.” Just because he needed a second to think about things didn’t mean he didn’t care. “I really do.”
“No, you don’t. You care about my business. You care about a potential investment. That’s all.” She began picking up the papers surrounding her. “We both know I’m wasting my time and money, but for the life of me, giving up just makes me want to puke.”
He didn’t think that at all. “That’s not true, and you know it.”
