Page 133 of The Billionaires

Rolling my eyes, I pretend that a feather has landed on my hand—resulting in the tiniest micromovement.

“Yes,” she says excitedly. “Just like that.”

Of course. First, she gets on all fours, and then she sounds like she’s getting fucked. If anyone from my staff were to come into the room at this moment, they’d be convinced I’m harassing her, even though the truth is closer to the opposite.

“Show me what you’d do if I were to lie on the grass.” Matching actions to words, she lies down—in a pretty good imitation of how Colossus drives me mad on walks.

“Come,” I say gruffly and do a micro tug. “Let’s go.”

She gets back on all fours and starts moving, so I keep the leash loose.

“Wrong,” she says sternly.

“What are you talking about?” And does she not realize she’s in a perfect position to get her butt spanked?

“When he does what you want, you have to give positive reinforcement.”

“Good girl,” I growl through my teeth.

She stops and gives me a seething glare over her shoulder. “You realize dogs don’t speak much, if any, English, right? They go by tone, and yours is saying, ‘I’m going to murder you.’”

I fill my lungs with air, exhale to relax, and then pretend I’m speaking with an infant as I say, “Good girl.”

“Better,” she says. “Though, given him hiking his leg when he pees and all that, I’d wager Colossus identifies as a boy… but then again, it’s hard to be sure.”

“I obviously wasn’t being woke,” I snap. “I was giving you the reinforcement.”

“In that case, don’t call me ‘girl.’” She pushes up to her feet. “Your turn.”

CHAPTER 11

LILLY

“No,” Bruce barks—which hey, is in the spirit of him playing a dog.

“Putting yourself in the dog’s shoes is the best way to learn,” I explain.

His lips press into a white slash. “I’ll just rely on my imagination.”

I rub my eyebrows because I feel a headache coming on, only to recall that I shouldn’t draw attention there. People like Frida Kahlo are famous for their prominent eyebrows, but I consider mine man-deterrents.

Not that I care what this particular man thinks.

Nope. The opposite. In fact, maybe I should fluff them up in front of him?

“What, no comeback?” he asks.

I snort humorlessly. “Do people like you even have an imagination?”

“Do people like you have any tact?” He stomps off the carpet and slides his feet into his shoes.

“I’m tactful enough not to call you a fucking asshole,” I mutter as I put my own shoes on.

“You have ten more minutes,” he says. “Let’s walk and talk.”

I sigh. “What about?”

Without answering, Bruce opens the door. Sure enough, Colossus is waiting in the hallway, his tail wagging a mile a minute.

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