Page 87 of Forking the Billionaire

I chuckled and kept at my task. “Tempting.”

“Don’t spit in the drinks or I’ll fire you both,” Rufus yelled from the kitchen.

“I don’t work for you,” Sage yelled back.

“I didn’t say it would be from a job,” Rufus volleyed back. “I only said there’d be fire involved.”

Sage shook her head. “He’s all bark.”

“I know,” I said. “But to be clear, we still won’t be spitting in any drinks.”

“Fine.”

A thought occurred to me then. I hadn’t asked Sage about the whispers yet. “Hey, do you know anyone who used to be a soap opera star?”

She snapped her gaze to mine, and there was a sharpness there that disarmed me.

“Where did you hear that?”

“Ghosts,” I said.

“What else did you hear?”

“That there’s a biscuit bandit,” I said. “Do you know anything about that?”

She rolled her shoulders and looked to the side. “No.”

“You do.”

“You should let that go,” she said.

“Why exactly?”

“Yah!” A war-cry bellowed out of the kitchen.

A lizard raced around the corner, over the wall. I dropped what I was doing and dove into action. I reached out for it, but Rufus was already there, pan mid-swing.

There was no way I could catch the lizard in time. Even if I did, there was no way for him not to see me hide the little guy in my pocket.

Without a second thought, I slid between Rufus and the lizard, flashed my biggest smile, and prayed it would be enough.

“Hey, Rufus,” I said.

His feet skidded to a halt, his pan slammed against the wall, missing my fingers by an inch.

My heart pounded in my throat.

“Get outta the way,” he said.

“What?” I said, playing innocent.

He ducked and weaved, and I kept myself in front of him, matching him step for step.

“Sorry, are you trying to get past?”

“Gah!” He threw his hands in the air and ran around the other way back toward the kitchen.

I cringed and waited and hoped I’d done enough to buy the little guy some time. My pulse pounded and time seemed to slow down as I listened for the smash and Rufus’s subsequent hoot of murderous victory.

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