Page 57 of Faking It with my Billionaire Grump

“Oh. Er…” She tilts her head in thought and then looks at me. “Have you seen the commercials for Bartley’s Hot Dogs?”

“Sure. You did that?” I ask, pretty impressed with her skills.

“Well, I didn’t do all of it. There’s a team of us. But yes, I was involved in it.”

“Cool.”

“So, anyway…” She takes another sip of her beer. “My boss called me this morning. I’ve been after this promotion for a year, and today, she called to tell me that I have it.”

Strangely, Tilly doesn’t look as ecstatic as I assume she should be with that news.

“That’s great, right?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” She does sound a little more excited than she did a second earlier. “But there’s a time limit on it. If I want the promotion, I have to hightail it back to the city in the next couple of days.”

If someone punched me in the stomach, I don’t think I’d feel so gutted. To hide my utter devastation, I lift my beer and take a long draw. She’s going to be leaving, and after our conversation last night, I don’t feel it’s my place to say anything. It’s like history is repeating itself, almost. Only this time, she’s actually telling me what she wants to do.

“Well, congratulations,” I say, pinning on a smile and lifting my beer towards her.

She lifts her bottle, and we knock them together.

“It was pretty unexpected,” she says.

“Sure, but like you said, you’ve worked hard for this. You deserve success, Tilly. I’m happy for you.”

Liar!

Yes, I am. But she seems excited about her new prospects, so I want to be happy for her. My mind is just reeling because I thought we’d connected. I was pretty certain she felt it, too. Had I seen what I wanted to see? Had I imagined it? Maybe I had. Surely, if there was a chance for us, we’d be talking about that as well as her promotion, right?

If she wanted us to be together, we’d be discussing how a long-distance relationship could work. How she could stay in the city and be back here on the weekends. But we’re not talking about that. It hasn’t even been suggested.

All those things I planned to say to her now melt into the ether. If I bring up the subject of us now, it might look like I’m trying to convince her to stay, and I don’t want to do that. I mean, who am I to stand in the way of her career?

“What about Bryan?” I say as an afterthought. “Don’t you still need to get rid of him?”

“He texted me early this morning. He said he went back to the city. He said it was clear that I’d moved on.”

“And that was it?” I’m a bit surprised. The guy was pretty determined, even right up to last night. But then, there was that kiss.

Tilly drops her gaze. “He said a few other mean things, but it doesn’t matter now. He’s gone, and I’m glad to be rid of him.”

“So our little ruse worked,” I say, sounding far chirpier than I’m feeling. “We did it.”

“Yes,” she says, not sounding anywhere near as happy as I would expect her to be under the circumstances.

“You’re worried he’ll come after you again when you move back to the city,” I say.

She shakes her head. “New York’s a big place. And anyway, I’m planning on staying with a work colleague until I get my own place. Preferably on the other side of town.”

For a long time, neither of us says anything. I don’t know what’s going through Tilly’s mind, but I don’t know what to say. I want to be happy for her; I really do. But how can I feel that genuinely when her happiness means my loss? Losing her all over again is going to kill me, but this is her choice, and I have to respect that.

After her third beer, Tilly pulls out her phone and makes a call.

“Hi, Dad? Can you come and pick me up?”

I assume Gerry is telling her he will, because she nods, says thanks, and hangs up. Then she looks at me. “I don’t want to be in your hair any longer than I have to be.”

“You’ve never been in my hair, Tilly.”

---