Page 14 of The Billionaire and the Runaway

“Hi, Heidi.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” I reply as I follow Ariana through the store.

“Uh, do I have a budget for my office supplies?” she asks as she surveys notebooks.

“How about two hundred?” I suggest.

Her eyes widen. “Two hundred thousand?” she asks, her voice rising an octave with each word.

This time, I can’t stop myself from laughing. “Very funny,” I reply.

Her wide eyes tell me she’s not joking and I stop laughing. Is she for real? What type of money does she come from exactly?

“Two hundred dollars,” I restate.

She grimaces. “I don’t think I can get much for that,” she laments.

“Let’s start with the basics. I’ll tell you what we have and you tell me what you need,” I offer as I text Joy and get a rundown of what’s in that supply closet.

She shrugs as she runs a finger along some binders. Her nails are neatly painted and her hands look like she’s never worked a day in her life.

We slowly begin to walk through the store. She ends up with a notebook, a variety pack of pens and highlighters, some drawing paper, a sketchbook, a lamp that she said was desperately needed, and a monitor for her computer which put us over four hundred dollars, but I let it slide.

“Oh, can I get a chair?” she asks as she looks longingly at one of the leather chairs.

“You can get that one,” I state, pointing at a decent one on sale for fifty dollars.

“Fine,” she agrees as she rolls her eyes.

“Do you know anything about budgeting?” I ask.

“Sure. I just don’t normally work on such small budgets,” she explains. She looks at the cart I’ve managed to grab for us and then up at me. “Is this OK to get? I feel like we went way over your budget.”

“It’s fine. Honestly, we probably needed some of that stuff anyhow,” I admit as I shove a credit card across the counter at Heidi.

We load the truck and head back to the office. She parks and turns to me.

“How’d I do?” she asks.

“Not bad for your first lesson.”

She glances over at the tractor. “Maybe I should try driving some farm equipment next.”

I take the keys from her hand. “Uh, maybe another day.”

Giggling, she heads inside, where I sit and watch as Ariana creates a functional workspace out of seemingly nothing.

“Wow, aren’t you the interior decorator,” Joy says as her grandson, Lennox, comes waltzing into the office.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“Lennox!” Joy scolds. “Manners.”

“Sorry, excuse me, miss, who are you?” he restates. We all laugh at that.

Ariana stops what she’s doing and walks over to Lennox, extending her hand. “I’m Ariana. What’s your name?”

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