Page 20 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire
“Ugh, that sounds terrible.”
“Yeah.” Frankie chuckles as one of the little donkeys bites off part of a carrot she’s offering. “Grandma threw out the jacket.”
I scan the field. “Looks like all the others are already indoors.”
“Yeah, these little guys tend to put themselves to bed.” She holds up her empty hands to the crunching donkeys. “All gone.”
I follow her into the stable, its air filled with the warm, sweet scent of hay. The place is spotless, apart from the odd pile of poop. Everything here might be old, but it’s clearly loved and cared for. And, got to admit, kind of cozy.
“Aw, look at Petunia.” Frankie moves toward the back corner where the small white donkey is standing as far away from us as possible.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” she whispers to theanimal while running her hand from its shoulder down its front leg in long, smooth strokes. “You’ll get used to him.”
“She’s scared of me?” I ask.
Frankie shoots me a look over her shoulder and puts her finger to her lips to shush me, then turns back.
“He’s nice,” she tells Petunia. “You’ll like him.”
Her words spark a twist in my chest. I don’t feel particularly nice right now.
Never in my entire property development career have I ever felt guilty about one single thing that I’ve done. But stringing Frankie along like this doesn’t exactly sit well in my gut.
Christ, am I being a manipulative jerk like Skinner? I vowed after what he did to my family, the dignity that he stole from us, that I would never treat people the way he does. Yes, I don’t pull any punches in negotiations. Yes, I don’t take any crap. But I’m never gratuitously cruel.
This situation here is a one-off. I just need to power through until I can persuade Frankie to sign my company’s offer, then I can go home, and she’ll be none the wiser.
And when I rip up Skinner’s paperwork in front of his smug face it’ll all be worth it.
At least I hope it fucking will.
Because the fact that Frankie’s telling the donkey I’m nice is giving me a warm feeling inside and, at the same time, also making me feel like a total asshole.
But it’s not really me she likes—it’s Miller McSweeney, the pleasant investor guy whose van’s been stolen, who loves animals, and who will be perfectly happy shoveling shit and sleeping in a dusty barn. So, yeah, it’s not me she likes anyway.
Frankie kisses Petunia on the head, whisperssomething in her ear so quietly that I can’t hear it, and heads back toward me.
“She’s stopped shaking now,” she says, her mouth curling up a little at one side. “I’ll show you where we keep all the stuff for mucking out and refreshing the bedding. That will be your first job tomorrow morning.”
“Great,” I say.
Yeah, fucking great.
CHAPTER SEVEN
FRANKIE
“I’m hoping he’ll like Warm Springs and decide to settle here,” I tell Grandpa as we make our way to his room after our evening walk. The gentle stroll along the hallway and back is part of his rehab routine. “It’s probably unlikely he’d continue full time, but it would at least start you off with one fully trained regular volunteer after I’ve gone back to Chicago.”
“Sounds like a fine young man,” Grandpa says. “You’ve certainly had plenty of good things to say about him.”
Now that he mentions it, I realize I’ve been talking about Miller ever since I got here. “I’m just relieved we finally have someone to help out, that’s all. And one that’s happy to put in a decent number of hours. I mean, how rare is that?”
“Nonexistent,” Grandpa says. “Why does he even want to do it?”
I guess I haven’t actually asked Miller that question. “Iassume he must be tired of sitting around by himself, staring at his laptop, doing whatever investment thing it is he does all day. He probably wants some fresh air and connection with nature in his life.”
“Well, if you think he’s good, then he must be,” Grandpa says, as I open the door to his room and stand back to allow him to hobble inside. “I’ve trusted your judgment ever since you thought there was something fishy about that one volunteer back when you were sixteen. The one who was stealing feed from us.”
