Page 49 of The Runaway Billionaire's Inconvenient Baby
“We’ll worry about that when we get there. Go out there and live, Billie. Don’t spend what might be our final days in paradise wishing it was different.”
I want to be furious, but she’s right. If this is the end of Havenridge, I don’t want to remember it like this, as a place of bitter misery. I want to remember it for golden beaches and happy days, for family and friends, bonfires and marshmallows, boat rides and snorkeling. This place will always be special to me.
Jacob can take away the land, but he can’t take away the piece of my heart that lives here.
Suddenly, I leap up, the table rocking under me, our mugs sloshing and spilling, and I launch into my mother’s arms. She grunts in confusion, but then wraps her warm, familiar arms around me. And for that second, I can believe that everything is okay. That nothing is going to change.
“Thanks, Mom,” I whisper.
She kisses my head and squeezes me. We don’t say much else as we finish our tea. There’s nothing much else to say.
I drag myself upstairs to get dressed. Usually, I put real effort into my outfit, making sure I look cute as well as approachable, but today it’s all I can do to pull on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
Some effort is better than nothing. That’s what my mother always taught me.
Slowly, I head down the stairs, and Mom’s waiting for me when I get there. She wraps me in her arms and squeezes me tight. “I love you, you know,” she says, kissing me on the head.
“I know, Mom. I love you too.”
“Get out there and be my beautiful baby.”
“Yes, Mom,” I scoff, though I don’t pull away. I don’t want to let her go.
It takes me longer than usual to reach the cafe, like every step is a struggle. I’m filled with a sense of doom, like every nerve in my body knows this could be the last step I ever take on this street.
When I get to the cafe, I open the door slowly, gripping the handle like it’s taking all my strength to turn it. Lantigua is at the counter, and he smiles at me when I come in. “Hey, Billie,” he says.
“Hey,” I say quietly. I hold my head as high as I can as I walk over to the counter.
Everyone’s eyes are on me. I don’t look around. I can’t bear to see them all scrutinizing me. Everyone wants to ask if I’m all right, or what happened. I’m not going to give them a reason to think I’m weak.
I grab an apron and tie it on. “How’s it been going?” I ask with the biggest smile I can muster, which is not that big, but it’s better than not being here.
“We’ve been busy,” he says, thankfully following my lead and saying nothing about the situation. I can always count on this kid to be here for me.
“I was worried the place would fall down without me,” I joke weakly.
“You know I wouldn’t let that happen, boss.” He grins, putting on a stupid accent to make me laugh. And it does make me laugh.
Two days ago, it felt like I was never going to find joy again. This conversation is giving me the faintest spark of hope that I might be wrong.
The day wears on, and a few people cave to their curiosity and ask me about the evictions, or about the rich guy and where he’s gone. I can’t begrudge them it, not really. I would be dying to know too. I don’t give any of them a full answer because I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it. But fortunately, everyone seems to get the hint quickly that I’m not up for discussing Jacob whatsoever.
Other than that, it feels normal. It feels so normal that I can almost forget I’m supposed to be miserable. I guess that’s the point.
One of these days, I’ll trust my mother without arguing with her first. Maybe. Not that I’ll ever tell her that.
We’re just coming out of the mid-afternoon rush when my phone starts ringing insistently. Usually, I ignore it when it rings at work because it’s never that important. But when it doesn’t stop, I pull it out and see it’s the nurse from the clinic I use.
“Excuse me,” I say to Lantigua. “I should take this.”
“No problem, boss,” he says with a grin.
I dart into the back room, close the door and pick up. “Hello?”
“Hi, Billie,” the nurse says. “How are you doing?”
“Good, thank you,” I say, not really wanting to get into it after I’ve spent such a magical few hours forgetting about all my problems.
