Page 46 of The Billionaire and the Runaway

I laugh. “Right, you had afeelingI was a klutz. Petunia nearly killed me.”

He chuckles. “True, but you stood your own.”

My phone starts ringing, and I pull it from my pocket.

Kimberly’s phone number appears on the screen, and I feel the blood drain from my face. No. It’s not possible. She can’t have this number. The last time she called, it was forwarded from my regular phone, but this time it is not.

“Ariana?” Eric’s concerned voice cuts through my fog.

“Uh, I’ll be right back. I should take this,” I say quickly as I walk out the back sliding doors to the patio.

“Hello,” I answer once I’m alone.

“So it’s true, then,” her voice replies.

Fuck!

“What’s true?” I ask.

“You’re in Storyview Falls,” she answers.

“How’d you get this number?” I ask.

“Oh, I have my ways. You know, if you are trying to hide from your father, you really ought to not make friends with everyone in that town. They talk, you know?” she says.

Shit. Who told her? Not that anyone would know not to tell her.

“What do you want, Kimberly?” I ask.

“Tell your father. Or I will,” she says.

“Tell him what?”

“The truth. You have two weeks because I have a trip to take. But when I get back, he better know everything or I’ll be telling it to him and I promise you that won’t go over well,” she replies. What the fuck is she playing at?

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, Kimberly, but I was going to tell him in a few weeks anyhow. He already knows I got a job at a small company. I just wanted to get a few things in order first. Make him proud. He’ll know,” I assure her as my heart races.

“Right. Well, have fun playingSunnybrook Farmor whatever,” she says, and the line goes dead with a click. Oh no. This is bad, really fucking bad.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Eric

Ariana has been unusually quiet during dinner. I filled her in on more about the farm. I don’t get into too much detail about my dad and his fortunes, but I do tell her how he decided he had a big midlife crisis and bought this farm. She laughed but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She told me her call was just a friend checking in on her, but I don’t believe that for one second.

I can’t escape the feeling that Ariana is hiding things about her life.

I decide I need to get her to relax a little and then I’ll start questioning her this evening. I plate our food while she pulls out silverware for us and then I grab a bottle of wine. Pouring us each a glass, I look over at her. She’s sitting at the table texting. Her teeth are biting her bottom lip. She looks worried. And I don’t like that at all.

“Here,” I say as I set a glass in front of her.

“Oh, thanks,” she answers but doesn’t look up from her phone until I’m seated.

I reach over and place a hand on hers and I see her eyes glaze over. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s nothing,” she tries to assure me.

“Let’s eat,” I say, changing the subject for the moment. Her shoulders drop slightly as she relaxes. I tell her about the farm cleanup and how the one tree falling caused some damage to the main drive, which gives me an opportunity to turn it into a two-lane drive when the company comes out to fix it next week.

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