Page 48 of How to Fall for the Secret Billionaire
Bakery invoice (still pending for last week’s delivery)
Flowers for Honeysetts— paid today
Edie’s hospital bills
I stop there, pen hovering over the page like it suddenly weighs a hundred pounds.
That last one punches the air out of my lungs. I don’t even need to write the amount—I already know it. I see it in my sleep. I see it every time I close the freezer and find it full of frozen meals because Aunt Edie won’t let me cook for her. Every time she triesto sweep a hallway she has no business being in. Every time she pretends she’s not tired.
I press my hand to my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut. The inn is surviving. Barely. But surviving. And yet… her bills loom like a cloud I can’t outrun.
I write down the total anyway. Just so I can see it on paper. Just so it’s not only living in my chest like a stone.
My stomach twists.
I rub the back of my neck and glance toward the window. The sun’s slipping down now, warm and gold against the trees.
Still no sign of him.
He said he wanted to step out for a bit of air. Why’s that taking so long? It’s been over an hour!
The front door swings open with a bang, loud enough to snap me right out of my thoughts.
“Cal!”
I freeze, pen still in my hand. It’s the chorus of guests from the front parlor—Mrs. Claremont’s unmistakable voice layered with Daryl’s deep chuckle and Amee’s dramatic squeal.
Then I hear it.
His laugh.
Soft. Warm. Familiar now, somehow.
It drifts down the hall like it’s looking for me. I close my eyes for a second, listening.
I creep to the kitchen doorway and press my ear to it like some nosy schoolgirl.
Ridiculous.
I should walk away, but I don’t.
I hear Amee’s voice float in from the parlor, bright and curious. “Where’d you sneak off to, Mr. Mysterious?”
“I just needed a walk,” Cal says, his voice smooth and casual. “Felt a little… suffocated.”
