Page 13 of Faking It with my Small Town Billionaire

And you’re up far too early.

Oh, Lord. I’d done it again. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.

You didn’t.

I had to wonder if that was the truth, but I had no evidence to say otherwise, so I didn’t reply.

I spent two hours in the kitchen, baking all the wares for the day, and then I left Jasmine to run the store. After looking over the file Orson had given me, I wanted to do some number crunching. Four hours later, a dreadful realization hit me. I knew we were struggling. I just didn’t really know how much.

My credit cards were maxed out, the bills had accumulated and were now outstanding, and no matter which way I moved the numbers, it was as clear as day. There was more money going out than there was coming in. I was in trouble. Big, big trouble.

At some point, I would need to tell Jasmine, but I was too mentally drained to do it after all that. And so, with a smile pinned on my face, I bid her goodnight at the end of the day without saying a word.

That evening, Orson texted me again. Have you organized the meeting yet?

I had been a little busy, what with my business circling the drain and all, so my text was short.

No.

Okay. Very short.

Are you all right? he texted back.

Tears were welling in my eyes when I answered. No.

I have battled so hard to keep my father’s business going. I have put everything I have into this little bakery, including my heart and soul. I’ve borrowed money from my sisters, which I still have to pay back, so I can’t ask them for any more. And as I sat there at one of my tiny tables, with my head in my hands, I just couldn’t believe it had come to this.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but a sharp knock on the door made me jump out of my skin. When I looked up, it was dark out, and Orson Donovan was standing there, peering in.

What the…?

Wiping tears from my eyes, I cleared my throat and moved to the door.

“What are you doing here?” I croaked.

“Repaying a favor, Lily. Now, please, let me in.”

“How did you get here so fast?” I asked, assuming he lived in the city.

“I rented an apartment just outside of Willow Creek.”

“Really?” I frowned.

“Actually, I bought it, but that’s not important. Let me in, Lily.”

I made coffee, and we sat for a couple of hours talking about all sorts of things. My business, his business, what we had done after high school. It was bizarre, and yet not uncomfortable.

“Why did you buy an apartment?” I asked somewhere in our discussion.

Orson shrugged. “It saves me from having to travel so much. I knew when I took this on that Willow Creek was going to be a big project. It just made sense.”

“And why did you come here tonight?”

“Because it sounded like you needed a friend. Like I said, I’m repaying a favor.” He looked at me with those soft brown eyes. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did for me in school, Lily.”

“I treated you like I treated everyone else,” I said carefully.

In my delicate and vulnerable state, I needed to keep my wits about me. It would be easy, under the circumstances, to let the feelings I had for him back then slip out. I’d already made a fool of myself suggesting that meeting. To add to that, he had arrived at the bakery and caught me crying. That was enough humiliation for one week.

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