Page 9 of Faking It with my Small Town Billionaire

“Hey, sweetie, Ellie replies.

“Hello, lovely,” Martha says.

The conversation begins, and I listen to Ellie and Martha tell me all about their lives. I love our calls. They keep me sane. We weren’t always super close as young sisters. In fact, we fought like cats and dogs. Mom had to separate us on many occasions, fearing we might kill each other. But when we all moved out, that changed.

It’s strange, but apparently not unusual. We’re now closer than ever, each of us taking turns to visit Mom in the care center so she gets a visitor every two weeks.

Mom has no clue who we are, of course. She thinks we’re the nurses. It was hard at the beginning, especially for Ellie. She was always closest to Mom. But as the years have passed, we’ve become accustomed to sitting with her and pretending this woman didn’t raise us to be the best versions of ourselves.

“So, what’s happening where you are?” Martha says. “Gerry says there are investors coming to Willow Creek.”

“How would he know?” I ask, frowning with surprise.

“Oh, you know Gerry. He spends more time reading the paper than he does talking to me.”

“He does not,” Ellie laughs.

Martha grins and shakes her head. “Of course, he doesn’t. You think I’d put up with that kind of treatment?”

We all laugh, partly because it’s funny, partly because we know it’s true.

“He was reading The Post the other day and mentioned it. So, what’s the gossip? Surely you’ve heard something by now?”

I feel myself getting nervous. Both my sisters know how hard I crushed on Orson Donovan at school. Whatever I say here is going to elicit conclusion jumping.

“Did Gerry tell you it was Donovan Enterprises?” I ask.

Martha lifts her eyebrows and widens her eyes. “He did. I’ll bet that’s going to go down well.”

“Oh, wow. Donovan Enterprises,” Ellie gasps.

“It gets better,” I say. “Last night, I held a town meeting in the bakery. Guess who walks in?”

“No way,” Martha cries, jumping forward on her chair.

Ellie is nearly screaming with excitement, wafting her hands up and down. “Orson Donovan? Really? Orson came back?”

I nod. “He sure did.”

“Well, what’s he like?” Martha presses.

I shrug and try to act as nonplussed as possible. “Yeah. He looked good.”

“Oh, my Lord,” Ellie squeals. “Look at him.”

I’m a bit confused.

“I’m on their website,” she continues in her high-pitched excitement. “He’s right there. Holy cow, he’s hot!”

“Ellie!” I laugh.

Martha’s typing like mad, clearly following Ellie’s footsteps. “He looks good, huh, Lily?” Martha smirks at me a few seconds later. “I can tell you this. If I looked that ‘good’”—she flashes quotation marks with her fingers—“I’d be in magazines. In fact, he should be in magazines.”

“He’s so photogenic,” Ellie coos.

“Will you guys cut it out?” I say, trying to prevent my sisters from drooling over their laptops.

“Is he single?” Ellie carries on regardless.

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