Page 116 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire
“Then go fix it.”
I laugh to myself. “If only it were that simple.”
“Things usually are more simple than you think.”
“I’m certain she’ll never forgive me. I’m not even worthy of her forgiveness. There’s no reason for her to believe that I’m not someone who goes around lying about who I am and seducing women because I want something from them.”
“Do you need a reference letter?”
“I’m not sure she’d even trust the word of British royalty.”
“Well, given some of my relatives…” Oliver chuckles and sighs. “Anyway, whatareyou afraid of, Mill?”
“Oh, shit. I don’t know. A whole fucking bunch of things, I guess.” I drag a hand through my hair. “Of not seeing her again. Of her not wanting to be with me. Of me trying to talk her around and her telling me to fuck off and die.”
“And what would be the worst thing that couldhappen if she did?”
We sit in silence for a moment, Oliver giving my brain the time to process his question.
“I guess I’d be lying here in bed alone and feeling like shit,” I say.
“Which is exactly where you are right now.”
“Yes.”
“Which means you have nothing to lose, right?”
I dismiss the suggestion with a huff. “Apart from my dignity.”
“Oh, dignity is highly overrated.” He snickers. “Fuck dignity.”
Where has dignity gotten me? It got me dropping out of college and working like crazy to keep a roof over my family’s head. It got me seeing the potential in house-flipping and getting into it to make more money. It got me into constructing my first small apartment building. It got me to grow and grow that business until I’m here now with a billion-dollar company and renowned buildings all over the city.
So dignity has served me well.
Until it sent me to Warm Springs to get my own back on Skinner.
And that means dignity has also snatched away the potential love of my life.
“You still there?” Oliver asks.
“You’re right,” I tell him. “Fuck dignity.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
FRANKIE
I give the old truck’s gearshift the little nudge to the right that it always needs to get into fourth gear. There sure as hell had better be someone at the farm who can help me load the hay into the truck today.
In an ideal world they’d deliver, but their guy is still sick, so here I am again, on my way to restock before we run out.
And in an ideal world, Miller would be with me to help.
Turns out, the world is far from ideal.
The flash of memory of him hiking himself up over that fence to retrieve the hay locked behind it fills me with heat. His powerful legs and arms, the cocky look-at-what-I-can-do grin, the unimaginably sexy problem-solving abilities.
But, argh, it was all just for show. All just to get me to like him. So he could use me in his vengeance game.
