Page 17 of Faking It with my Small Town Billionaire

The idea of the two-hour drive drains me just thinking about it. “Can’t we discuss it over the phone?”

“I’ll see you when you get here,” he says before hanging up.

I stare at the phone. “I take it that’s a no, then?”

As usual, I have to drop everything. My grandfather is not a patient man, and whether it has to do with running the business or not, he expects me to rearrange my schedule for him.

After buzzing through to Gloria, my personal assistant, and telling her to hold all calls and rearrange my two o’clock appointment, I make a call. There’s no way I’m making the two-hour drive again. I’ll take the helicopter and be at the estate in less than twenty minutes.

The helipad is on the roof of Donovan Enterprise's building, and once I’m strapped in with my headset on, the pilot takes off. I stare down at the city streets, like multicolored streams with thousands of cars trickling through them. Buildings of all heights and shapes pass beneath us, and soon enough, we’re leaving the bustling metropolis behind and heading across the country.

“You made good time,” Pops says when I enter his office.

“I drove really, really fast.”

Pops smirks before waving me over. “Come and sit down. And don’t give me that garbage about you driving for two hours. The whole estate heard you landing.”

Reluctantly, I sit. I can’t be bothered with arguing, and besides, I want him to get on with whatever reason he’s dragged me up here.

“How’s the project going?”

I know he knows the answer already. He’s kept in the loop with everything that goes on in the business, but more than that, I know that he’ll have a more vested interest in what I’m doing.

“Everything is on track. All the investors are on board with the finalized plans, and the contracts are all signed.”

The old man looks at me inquisitively. “And Willow Creek?”

I shrug. “What about it?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Don’t play the fool with me, Orson. Tell me how things are going down there.”

I know exactly what he’s asking, but I purposefully and stubbornly refuse to satisfy his curiosity. “Great. The town is excited. There’s a sense of relief at getting the help they need.”

“And?” he presses.

“That’s it really,” I reply indifferently

“Really?”

“Really.”

Pops gives me a long look, and then, leaning back in his chair, he says, “Very well.”

I’m surprised he’s giving up so easily. It makes me feel uneasy. He always has something up his sleeve, and this time will be no different.

“So, they are all accepting the proposals? No exceptions?”

“None that I know of. It’s only been a few weeks, though. There’s still time for someone to protest.”

“Well, all that is good news.”

He better not have brought me all the way up here just for this simple conversation. This could have been discussed on the phone, and I could have made my two o’clock appointment.

“And what of the other stipulation?” he says.

I’ll be honest; I’ve been so caught up with my emotions about returning to Willow Creek, and what it’s taken out of me, that I haven’t given the stupid idea of getting married another thought. Pops will not want to hear that, though.

“I’ve been a little busy.”

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