Page 12 of Falling for the Wrong Billionaire
I wish I could just stop thinking. Stop feeling so lost. But I can’t.
I close my eyes and whisper to myself, “Please, just let me hold on to something. Just for a little longer.”
But even I know that hope is fragile. And I can already feel it slipping through my fingers.
Chapter five
Liam
I tell myself it’s just about the tech upgrade.
That’s why I keep coming back to the clinic. I remind myself of that every time I walk through the door, every time I step into that sterile, quiet room full of computers, devices, and gadgets that are supposed to make everything run more smoothly. But I know better.
The truth? Of course, I’m here for one reason. Her.
It’s been a few days since Emma handed over the full responsibility of the tech setup to Lucy, and it’s a relief. Not because I don’t want Em to work on the project herself— I do. But because it gives me an excuse to spend more time around Lucy.
I try to justify it, tell myself that I’m just being professional. She’s helping me with the project. She’s sharp, capable, and she’s already done more for the clinic than I expected. Butthere’s something more to it. Every time I see her, my heart does that strange thing again — that flutter, that soft pull that I’m trying to ignore.
It’s easier to convince myself it’s just admiration. Admiration for her dedication, her ability to handle everything with such calm precision. But it’s hard to ignore the way she smiles, the way her eyes light up when she talks about the animals. It’s hard to ignore how much I want to be there, to be around her.
I’ve been around a lot of women in my life, but none of them made me feel the way Lucy does. Not like this.
I walk through the door, my usual confident self, but for some reason, there’s a quiet hesitation in my steps. I don’t know why it’s so different when I’m around her. Why I find myself overthinking every word I say, every movement I make.
The place is quieter than usual today, the bustle of the clinic subdued. The reception area is empty; the only sound is the low hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle from the back. I pass by Emma’s office, but she’s not around. I assume she’s dealing with something else, which is fine. I’m here for Lucy, anyway.
I spot her in the back, organizing supplies near the storage closet. She’s moving carefully, placing things in order, her brow furrowed in concentration. She doesn’t notice me at first, and I take a moment to just watch her. She’s not a woman who seeks attention. She’s the kind of person who gets lost in the things that matter to her — animals, care, the details. She’s quiet, soft-spoken, but there’s something so fiercely capable about her. I’ve seen it more and more over the past few days.
When she finally looks up and meets my eyes, I feel it again. That moment of recognition between us, that unspoken understanding.
“Liam,” she says, her voice a little breathless from the work. “I didn’t see you come in.”
I smile, trying to hide the way my heart races at the sound of her voice. “I’ve been here a few minutes. Didn’t want to interrupt.”
She shrugs, her smile barely there but enough to make my chest tighten. “It’s fine. I’m just finishing up some stuff for the clinic. Emma said I’d be working with you on the tech setup today?”
“Yeah,” I say, stepping closer, my hands resting casually in my pockets. “I figured it’d be easier if we handled the details together. You’ve got a good sense of what needs to be upgraded around here.”
She nods, her eyes shifting to the papers in front of her. “I’ve been looking over the clinic’s records. There’s a lot that could be streamlined. But you’ve already done a lot with the digital systems, so it’s just a matter of improving what’s already here.”
I’m impressed with how easily she talks about it. I mean, I expected her to know her stuff, but there’s a level of expertise in her tone that makes me want to hear more.
“You’ve done your homework,” I remark, stepping closer. “I like it.”
She glances up at me, meeting my gaze for a split second before looking back down at her papers. “It’s what I do. I like things to run efficiently.”
Her modesty, the way she handles compliments — it’s so unlike anyone I’ve met before. I find myself watching her more closely, analyzing the way her hands move, the way she presses the papers into neat piles.
I have to look away before I get too caught up in her.
“So,” I start, trying to keep things professional, “let’s talk about the digital check-ins. I’m thinking we could set up a system where clients check in through an app when they arrive. Make it easier for them, and for you.”
She raises an eyebrow, clearly interested. “An app?”
“Yeah,” I say, getting a little more excited. “It’ll keep track of their appointments, update their information automatically, and even send reminders. You’ll spend less time handling paperwork and more time with the animals.”
She pauses for a second, clearly thinking it through. “That could work. But what about the clients who don’t want to use the app? You can’t just assume everyone’s comfortable with that.”
