Page 51 of Just Not That Into Billionaires

Too late—I can feel her attention on me. She senses she’s being shut out of something.

“You’re such a lucky boy to have him looking out for you,” the lead sister says to Spencer massaging his neck. “You’re gonna be okay, buddy!”

I roll my eyes, as though annoyed. Why can’t people mind their own business?

I still feel Francine’s attention. It’s not just that she zeros in and pulls your threads; she makes youwanther to pull your threads.

You’re an awkward misfit and she’s suddenly joking with you and pulling you into her world, and you want her to unravel you.

And then she does.

And it’s the best thing in the world until it’s the worst thing in the world. God knows how many hapless casualties she’s left unraveled in her wake.

“I’m so glad,” the other twin says. “You’re a lucky boy! Yes you are, yes you are,” she repeats as Spencer licks her face.

I finally pull Spencer away, getting us away from them.

“Was something wrong with Spencer?” Francine asks me.

“Nope,” I say.

“Then what did she mean, asking how is he? She sounded concerned.”

I shrug.

“Fine,” she snaps, hurt now.

We keep walking. She can think what she thinks, feel how she wants. This is a transaction, not a kumbaya circle.

But I can’t stop thinking about her taxes, now.

I could just put an accountant on it. Handle the whole thing. It would take half a day and some fines I’d never even notice. It would be a simple matter, but then I’d have to deal with her gratitude, as if I’m riding in there like a savior or something, all swelled up like an idiot.

“Hey, can we head up to the habitat garden after this?” She points to a sign. “We could just loop up there. It wouldn’t be out of our way—”

“No,” I say.

“Why can’t we loop up there?” she asks.

“Because this is the route Spencer likes to go.”

“But we could walk up after the dog park and then go down to your place after,” she tries.

“Spencer doesn’t like to deviate.”

“So Spencer gets a say and I don’t?”

“Yup.”

“How is that fair?” she demands.

“That’s how this marriage works,” I say.

“Seriously? Man and dog are numbers one and two in our pecking order, and I’m three?”

“That’s the pecking order,” I say.

“So I’m the accessory,” she says. “Been there, done that.”

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