Page 48 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire
I can’t help but give a little fist pump at the fact that she might hate him as much as I do.
“I’m just saying,” Skinner’s oily voice says, “that it’s not safe.”
Oh fuck me sideways and hit me with a baseball bat. Isthiswhat he’s doing?
My heart thumps faster, pumping furious hot blood through my veins.
What an absolute shit fucker.
“Like I said”—Frankie pauses to take a long inhale, clearly trying her best to hang on to her temper—“it’s fine. And none of your business. And you are trespassing.”
That’s my girl.
My girl?
I shake my head to bring it back to the point.
“But it’s a hazard, Miss Channing. Can’t possibly be to code. Would definitely fail an inspection.”
These are mobster tactics.Nice barn you got here, little lady. Be a terrible shame if something happened to it.
“Are you threatening me with an inspection?” I can picture her blue eyes wide, horrified, but also furious and defiant.
“I’m just saying,” Skinner says again, “that it’s a danger to both people and animals. And if this barn is in this state, I imagine the stables are too. No animal welfare official would want donkeys kept in a structure that could collapse on them at any moment.”
He has never given even one iota of a shit about any living creature other than himself.
“Look, just—” There’s a tremor in her voice that makes me want to run out from behind this shed and flatten Skinner once and for all.
“You’re supposed to be saving the animals here, Miss Channing,” he slimes. “Not endangering them.”
“We do not endan—” Frankie’s shouting now, but she stops herself, seeing that she almost took his bait.
To have the presence of mind to spot that he’s trying to goad her and to pull back takes willpower of steel—I know because I’ve been exactly where she is with this guy—and I am so fucking proud of her.
Not that she is mine to be proud of. Or ever would be.
I shake my head again.
“If you are not off my property in the next ten seconds, I’m calling the cops,” she manages.
“Just something to think about.” Skinner’s voice moves across the gap between the barn and the shed. “It would be unfortunate if you missed out on the chance to sell to me but were then forced to close down anyway due to unsafe structures. Or spend goodness knows how many hundreds of thousands rebuilding them.”
“We’re selling to no one,” she calls after him. “Not you or the other people.”
Skinner’s footsteps stop, and there’s silence for a moment.
“Other people?” he asks. “You’ve hadanother offer?”
Not going to lie, it’s just the tiniest bit satisfying that he didn’t have a clue about our offer—my office is watertight.
“Yes.” She sounds calmer now, more in charge. “And it’s better than yours.”
Oh, fuck. No, Frankie, no. My head drops into my hands. Don’t tell him that.
“Who from?” Skinner’s tone is short and clipped.
“None of your business. None of it is any of your business. See this phone?” There’s a moment of silence where she presumably holds it up. “Thirty seconds, or I call the cops.”
