Page 19 of Rosabel and the Billionaire Beast

Holy FREAKING crap, Iquit.

I did it.

A pit sank into my stomach. This was supposed to be a victory. Why, then, didn’t I feel better about taking action?

I hadn’t bothered saying goodbye to any of the other employees there. I hadn’t bothered explaining anything to them. For all they knew, I’d gone out to run one of Duncan’s many errands.

I’d told them time and time again there was nothing between Duncan and me. Never mind the way the air supercharged any time the two of us were together.

He was attractive, sure. He dressed to kill, styled his hair, and brooded with the best of them. And he and I spent more time alone as he barked orders at me than he did with any of his other employees.

That was just the problem. He’d let the rumors go to his head.

There was nothing between the two of us. Not now, not ever.

I’d make sure of that.

Wouldn’t it be great to see their faces when they found out? When I didn’t come back?

Even that thought wasn’t as victorious as I thought it would be.

A lump wedged in my chest, making my breathing labored. Duncan had been his total jerk self, but he’d been right about one thing—I couldn’t afford to take care of Dad without my job. Losing the income I’d relied on for so long just might sendmeto the hospital.

What if there was some way to turn this into some kind of financial arrangement? Like, I could agree to some kind of terms with him in exchange for his help?

I shook that thought away as quickly as it came. That would mean accepting his terms. That would mean giving in. It would mean degrading myself.

But it would mean helping Dad…

Dad had done everything for me. He’d given me counsel; we’d connected over old music and the Civil War stories he’d found fascinating and couldn’t wait to share. He’d been a listening ear, a support, and a friend.

And he had no one else. His care was utterly and completely in my hands. How could I leave him high and dry just to satisfy my own pride?

I arrived home quicker than I planned and slowed on the way to my family’s red brick home with its white columns and wide porch. As I pulled into the driveway, Duncan’s outrageous idea wouldn’t leave me alone.

I stepped inside my house with a sigh. The blinds were drawn, leaving the living room in shadow. It was lit by a single lamp near the couch. Sarah sat there across from Dad, knitting what looked like a pair of pink baby booties.

“Hey, Dad,” I said.

Sarah’s blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail at the base of her head. She wore a pair of black scrubs beneath a pink sweater.

I’d specifically requested Sarah as Dad’s caretaker. She and I had been friends in high school. We’d known each other for years, and I knew what a compassionate heart she had. Plus, she’d known Dad from before, and I figured that could only be a bonus.

“Hey, Sarah,” I said. “How’s he doing today?”

“Hasn’t spoken much at all since his attempted escape,” Sarah said. “He keeps staring at the TV, but he gets angry at me if I turn the screen on. So, we’ve been sitting here in companionable silence for most of the morning.”

“At least he stayed in the house after that,” I said.

That was saying something.

Dad slipped out the day before. I’d been right here in the house. The door had been locked. I’d popped my head in to check on him in his recliner before cleaning the bathrooms. He hadn’t been there.

My breath had seized. I’d dashed to the window only to find Dad wandering down the street as if he knew where he was going.

He didn’t, for the record.

Dad didn’t know where he was, and someday soon, he would no longer know me. The thought was like a fist in my chest.

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