Page 108 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire
“If you’re trying to say that Miller Malone and I are actually the same deep down, I’ll make sure Dickish Darren isyourboss.”
“Ah-ha.” Paige raises a finger of victory in the air. “And that would be you getting revenge on me for me doing something that hurt you. See, even the best of us have a vengeful streak when it comes to looking out for the people we care about.”
“It’s not funny,” I protest.
“Okay.” She shrugs, her tone suddenly casual, like she couldn’t give a damn. “Then stop thinking about him and move on.”
A sharp pain shoots across my chest. Why is that one sentence, out of all the things she’s said, the one that stabs at my ribs the most?
“Why are you so eager to defend him, anyway?” I ask.
“Because he just doesn’t seem like a bad person.” She looks to the side and scrolls her mouse. “I have about a hundred and forty tabs open here with interviews and articles about him and his company, and I can’t find anyone who has a bad thing to say about him. The opposite in fact. All his buildings for the last five years have a special environmentally friendly certificate. He won an award for a green roof project that a bunch of animal science people say is good for the Boston bird population.”
“Animal science people?Is that a technical term?”
“Oh, you know what I mean. And don’t try to change the subject.” She dismisses me with her hand and turns her attention back to her hundred and forty tabs. “In one building the first ten floors were offered at a lower price to people in the emergency services. Another has a first-of-its-kind education room where kids who are homeschooled can get together and not feel isolated. And also, everything he’s done with his property company shows he’s a financial fucking genius—well, not the purchase of the soccer club, that seems like a money pit, but at least it shows he’s passionate about something and maybe has a fun side.”
She looks directly into her camera, eyes staring at me, wide in awe.
“Oh, that’s all PR bullshit. You know that,” I object. “If I were marketing his buildings, those are exactly the parts of them that I’d mention in the press releases too.”
“Also.” She holds up a finger to emphasize her point. “I’m damn sure that Leo Johanssen, Prince Oliver, and especially Chase Cooper, who pretty much makes a living from being the most perfect person on the planet, would never go into business with an asshole who might damage their reputations.”
“I’m tired of this discussion.” I drop into the chair in front of the screen.
“Finally.” Paige throws up her arms. “Finally, she sits.”
I take a sip of lukewarm coffee. “The worst part is I’ve been putting off explaining all this to Grandpa. The part about us having no choice now but to sell because Skinner’s going to shut us down anyway, that is. I’ll probably skip over the part where I fell for a lying billionaire.”
“Ah-ha.” The finger of victory appears again. “You just admitted you fell for him.”
I reply with a one-shouldered shrug.
“Which means you allowed a guy to sneak under your fortress of barriers. And that youarecapable of letting someonein, after all.”
“It also proves that either I’m a very bad judge of guys or I attract the shitty ones. Or both.”
“Or…” Paige turns her head to side-eye me. “Maybe it means the relationship was perfect, but the circumstances were wrong.”
“If by circumstances you mean the circumstance that he’s a manipulative liar?—”
“Yes, yes.” I get another wave. “He lied to you. I get it. Let’s just move on from that for a second. What hap?—”
“I cannotmove on from that.”
She sighs and stares at me. “What happened was timing. If you’d met him at any other time. Under any other circumstances. And hehadn’tlied to you. Would you be interested in him?”
“Of course. But only because I wouldn’t know that he was capab?—”
“Stop it.” She makes a time-out sign. “There’s your answer, then. What you had was totally real. That part of it was absolutely not a lie or the figment of your imagination. And he only behaved the way he did because he was fighting for his family. Just like you’re fighting for yours.”
Thelma hops up onto the table and heads straight for the keyboard. I lean back to let her do whatever the hell she wants.
“You might not like that answer,” Paige says. “It might not be the one that you’re telling yourself is true. But it is the answer nonetheless.”
Thelma puts one paw on the edge of the computer, then looks at me. Christ, is she about to launch a full-blown attack? I lean back farther, out of scratching distance.
She pads closer until her front paws are teetering over the edge of the table right in front of me.
