Page 85 of How to Fall for the Secret Billionaire
Not someone you had late-night tea parties with. Or someone you had family breakfasts with. Okay, it was one time, but so what?
I excuse myself gently from Imani and Philip. They’re still debating wine like it’s an Olympic sport, and I use that to slip away. I follow Margot into the house.
I find her in the hallway by the kitchen, talking to Hazel and Aunt Edie. She’s smiling politely, half listening, half distracted, and just as I’m about to turn back around—too late—Aunt Edie sees me.
She lifts one elegant hand and waves me over with all the grace of a woman who’s been hosting parties for five decades.
“There he is!” she declares.
Hazel and Margot both turn to look. Margot’s eyes catch mine, and even though her expression doesn’t change, I swear I feel her pulse from across the room.
Great. Now she thinks I’m following her.
Which I was. But still.
I approach with the most casual smile I can manage.
Aunt Edie reaches out and takes my arm like we’re old friends. “You look very handsome, Cal,” she says with a wink. “If I were a few decades younger, I’d be dragging you to the dance floor myself.”
Hazel snorts. “Aunt Edie, please.”
We all laugh—even Margot.
But then she says, “I need to check the kitchen,” and starts to move away.
Hazel frowns. “You’ve checked it a million times. What’s wrong? Why are you so restless?”
Silence falls.
The room shifts. Just a little. Like someone tilted the air.
Margot doesn’t answer right away, and I don’t know whether to speak or leave them alone.
Aunt Edie turns to Hazel. “Since you say she’s restless, why don’t we go check the kitchen then? Come on. We’ve been lazing around all night while the poor girl runs around in heels.”
Margot and Hazel try to protest. “Aunt Edie?—”
“I said, come on.” She shushes them both with a flick of her hand and then loops her arm through Hazel’s before either of them can argue further. “Margot, darling, take a breath for once.”
I think Margot will leave too, vanish into a crowd or behind one of those vintage wooden doors. But instead, she turns to me.
Her eyes are unreadable.
“Have you been following me, Mr. Reid?”
There’s a sharpness to her voice, but not cruelty. Just the kind that cuts when you least expect it.
I exhale softly. “Margot, please. It’s Cal.”
“Is it?”
She doesn’t mean the name.
I know what she’s asking. I nod once, slowly. “It is. I promise it is.”
She doesn’t say anything for a beat. Just studies me with that steady gaze of hers. Then: “Hmm.”
“Margot…” I step in a little closer, voice low. “I’m not trying to lie to you. I just came here to hide.”
