Page 22 of Slumming It
"I'm just saying, if your goal is to fly under the radar, you've already failed. You might as well pack it up now and call it good." Her voice picked up steam. "In fact, maybe you should – I mean, since the cat’s already out of the bag."
Nice try.
It would take a lot more than this to drive me off.
And perversely, the fact that she wanted me to leave was having the opposite effect. "I don't care if the cat's running around with a bullhorn," I told her. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh, please. Like a cat could use a bullhorn."
"Forget the cat," I said. "I'm staying."
She chewed on her lower lip, making it plump out in a way that was hard to ignore. But ignore it, I did, just like I ignored the dimple in her left cheek and the way her eyes squinted all cute-like when she was thinking.
After a long moment, she said, "Okay, but howlongare you staying?"
"That'smybusiness, not yours."
"But itcouldbe my business…I mean if you hired me. And just so you know, I'm not a gossip. Icankeep a secret. Ask anyone. They'll tell you."
I frowned. She should've given up by now. And the fact that she hadn't was a glaring red flag. What exactly was I missing?
In the big scheme of things, it hardly mattered. Still, I was intrigued in spite of myself – and even more intrigued when she said, "Hey, I know! I could be your new girlfriend."
Chapter 9
Emily
As soon the words left my lips, both of my hands flew to my face, covering my mouth as if I could turn back time and keep that shocking proposal to myself. It wasn't just the outrageous nerve of suggesting such a thing, it was the fact that Reese Murdock was so far out of my league, it was seriously laughable.
I mean, who would even believe we were together?
But Mister Billionaire Bigshot wasn't laughing. In a low, flat voice, he repeated my very last word. "Girlfriend."
Suddenly the word seemed silly and just a little immature.Did billionaires even have girlfriends?I considered Cassandra Bloom, the date he’d abandoned along the highway. Hadshebeen called his girlfriend?
My hands were still covering my mouth. Through splayed fingers, I mumbled, "Or love interest, if you like that term better?"
"I don’t."
I dropped my hands. "Fine. Then call me your squeeze, your bed buddy, whatever."
Good Lord.
Had I truly just said that?
His eyebrows lifted. "Bed buddy?"
Great.On his lips, the words sounded even more ridiculous than girlfriend. But terminology aside, I now realized I had a decision to make. Did I go for it? Or backtrack like crazy and claim that my outrageous proposal was merely a joke?
That would be the smart thing. And yet, I could feel my own desperation tugging at my spine, prodding me to continue. This was my own little town we were talking about. Someday, I wanted kids and grandkids of my own.
I wanted them to play in the same parks and walk along the same shoreline. I wanted them to climb the same trees and grow up with the same families I'd known for all of my life.
Would this ever happen if they couldn’t afford to live here?
No. It couldn’t.
Two cities over, a big-time developer had gotten his grubby little hooks into the small, waterfront town. He'd made pretty promises and greased plenty of political palms as he’d snatched up prime real estate on the cheap.
