Page 23 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire
“Exactly what I said. All pictures of me off our website.”
“Why?”
“Because I was looking over our offer for the Warm Springs land and realized I’d forgotten that the web address is at the bottom of every fucking page.”
The fact that Frankie would only need to click on the About Us section to see my face grinning back at her alongside my real name only came to me while I was in the shower at the house. She’d let me in before heading off to see her grandpa this evening.
So now here I am, not only dreading whatever donkey-related hell tomorrow has in store for me, but also desperate to eradicate all images of myself from my own company’s website.
There’s silence on Brooke’s end for a second. “You mean you don’t want the owners to know what you look like?” She speaks slowly, like her own words are baffling her.
“Exactly.”
“Becaaause …?”
I puff out a sigh as I perch on the edge of the cot. “You’ll think it’s ridiculous.”
“I’ve heard plenty of your ridiculous things. I’mimmune. So, go on.” She whispers athank you, followed by the sound of her taking a sip of a drink.
“It’s not just the old man who owns the place. His granddaughter owns it too. She’s running it right now. And has zero intention of selling it. And I’m a dumbass for not noticing there was a second name on the paperwork the lawyer drew up.”
“That’s great though, right?” Brooke says. “If she’s a hard ass who won’t sell, then you don’t have to worry about Skinner buying it anymore.”
“Not the point. This might be the first and last time I ever get a heads-up about what he’s trying to buy. So if he wants it, I’m getting it. No matter what it takes.”
“And this is why you wanted to learn about donkeys?” she asks.
“Yes. I’m volunteering here. And if Frankie, the granddaughter, looks at the website, she’ll see who I really am.”
“Hold on.” Brooke’s voice immediately takes on that sharp school-teacherly tone it gets when I’m doing something she doesn’t approve of. “Are you saying you’re pretending to be a volunteer at the sanctuary? Like, you’ve given a false name? So you can convince her to sell to us? Without her ever knowing you own the fucking company?”
“It sounds bad when you put it like that.”
“I put it like that because that’s exactly how it is. And it sounds bad because that’s exactly what it is.”
“Brooke, I’m tired. And I need to learn about donkeys. And I have to be up early tomorrow to muck them out and refresh the hay. And I have no idea how much sleep I’m going to get on this camping cot.”
“You’re sleeping on acamping cot?” Iknow exactly how wide her eyes will be right now. “Why are you sleeping on a cot?”
“Because I’m staying in a barn on the property.”
“You’re staying in abarn?” She couldn’t sound more shocked if I told her I’ve appointed myself the new Commoners’ goalkeeper. “Have you been kidnapped and this is your cry for help? Or have you been kidnapped and replaced by a fake Miller Malone who hasn’t done his research properly and thinks you’re an outdoorsy type who wouldn’t even remotely consider going over his five-star hotel room with antibacterial wipes before so much as breathing in it?”
“I’m not that bad.”
“You totally sanitized The Ritz in London the last time you stayed there.”
“That’s only because I thought I might be coming down with a cold and didn’t want to catch anything else while my immunity was low.”
“Let me book you a hotel. You’ll be as miserable as hell staying in a barn.” She pauses to hoot with laughter. “Abarn. Honestly, it’s hilarious if I think about it.”
“It’s not hilarious. And no, thanks. I need to stay here. So I can get close to her.”
“What the fuck? You’re planning onseducingher into signing your contract?”
“That’s absolutely not what I meant.”
“Is she attractive?”
