Page 105 of How to Fall for the Secret Billionaire
As soon as I’m inside, I turn to face him, folding my arms across my chest. “Was it you?” I ask.
His brow furrows. “What?”
“The delivery. The linens, the kitchen supplies, the whole mystery care package.”
“No.” He turns away.
“Cal? Please.”
He hesitates—just a flicker—but I see it. That moment of quiet calculation. Then he looks away, sighs, and runs a hand through his hair.
“Okay,” he says. “Yeah. It was me.”
My chest tightens. “Cal, I don’t—this is—why?”
“Margot…” He hesitates, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not a big deal, okay? I wasn’t trying to make a statement or… buy your gratitude or whatever. I just saw how stretched you were and thought—it’s nothing, Margot. Just a gesture. Not a rescue mission.”
I study him. His expression is earnest, open. And part of me wants to melt into that kindness. But another part—the part that’s been holding everything together with duct tape and pure willpower—starts to fray.
“You can’t just fix things with money,” I say, quieter now.
He flinches slightly, not offended—more like I’ve grazed something vulnerable.
“I wasn’t trying to fix anything,” he says. “I just wanted to make your day easier. That’s it.”
I swallow, trying to make sense of the swirl in my chest. “I get that. And I appreciate it, I do. But I need honesty, Cal. More than I need help.”
Silence stretches between us, thick and buzzing. His jaw tightens. He nods once, slowly. I feel terrible that we’re having this conversation. I should say thank you and move on, but for some reason, I can’t. I’m aware that there’s a lot he’s yet to tell me, and I’m going out on a limb to trust this relationship and put myself out there. I need honesty, or else this isn’t going to work.
“I don’t want to keep you up.” I manage a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Margot, I?—”
“Goodnight, Cal.”
CAL
An hour after Margot leaves, I’m still wide awake. Sleep won’t come—too much on my mind, too many words I can’t unsay. I pace my room for a while, then give up entirely and head downstairs.
The inn is quiet, blanketed in the kind of stillness you only get in small towns after midnight. I’m almost to the front room when a faint clink draws me toward the kitchen.
When I push the door open, I nearly jump.
“Aunt Edie?”
She freezes mid-pour, caught like a teenager sneaking out. A teabag dangles from her spoon. “Shhh,” she says, one finger pressed dramatically to her lips. “Don’t tell anyone. I’m not supposed to be up.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You’re definitely not supposed to be up.”
“And yet…” She waves a hand over the kettle like a magician. “Here I am.”
“You want me to carry you back to bed or call Margot to do it?” I tease, crossing my arms.
She narrows her eyes. “Blackmail? You’re threatening a frail old woman?”
“You are neither frail nor old,” I say, walking in. “But yes. I am absolutely threatening you. I’m two seconds away from screaming.”
She smirks and reaches into the cabinet. “Then I guess I’ll have to bribe you.”
