Page 72 of The Renegade Billionaire
The kitchen door swings open, but I don’t lift my head.
“No. Nope,” I say with my nose squished against the granite. “I need a few minutes to myself. Do not even think about coming in here right now.”
The door swings shut again without a word, so I know it was Braxton. Pops wouldn’t have been able to stay quiet.
What does Pops mean, Braxton owns forty percent of the Hideaway? He sold it? How could he do that to me?
I close my eyes when my chest beats to that uncomfortable rhythm I used to associate with anxiety, but now think it might be Braxton.
Okay, think, Madison. He owns forty percent, that means we still own sixty. Oh, God. What will he do with his share?
Is that why he’s here? Will he try to make me sell?
Sickness swirls in my stomach and acid burns the back of my throat when tears threaten. Is this why he was getting so close to me?
No. I mentally chastise myself. Braxton isn’t like that. Maybe he doesn’t even want the inn. Maybe he’ll let me repay the loan and he’ll give me back my property. That’s it! It makes the most sense anyway. He doesn’t want to run an inn in Georgia, right?
“Madison?”
“Braxton,” I hiss without lifting my head. “Care to explain why my grandfather sold my legacy to you, a stranger we’ve only known for a hot minute?”
“He likes me?”
“The boy will be good for you, Madi.”
The groan that escapes my throat is equal parts angry and sad with a little confusion laced in.
“And he didn’t sell it to me, he sold it to Ace, who I guess willed it to me. Um.”
I lift my face off the counter. A bead of sweat has formed on his forehead, and his shifty gaze is scanning the exits. I stand upright as my defenses prickle.
“Also, um, Mitchell is my middle name. I’m sorry I deceived you. I’m Braxton Mitchell Reyes. I was named after Ace. But I only said it was Mitchell for privacy reasons. It wasn’t to hurt anyone, I promise.”
Guilt fills every inch of his expression, but I can’t garner an ounce of sympathy when everything I’ve been working for was just pulled out from under my feet.
Instead, I ignore his comments and plead my case to Pops.
“And what happens when ‘the boy’ heads back to his real life? What happens to Grams’ inn then, Pops?”
“Nothing. If I go home?—”
“If?” It comes out slightly shrill as I spin on him so quickly, hair falls from my messy bun. “What do you mean, if?”
“When I go home, nothing will change for you. I’m here for six months, to be the good Ace wanted to see in the world, but I’m only a silent partner in the inn, and I’ll gift it all back to you at the end of the contract.”
“The contract?” My voice is pitched so high, I’ll be surprised if all the dogs in town don’t show up soon.
Braxton shifts his weight from foot to foot. “I haven’t seen it yet, but according to Pops, it’ll be three or four years.”
My eyeballs strain against my skull, and I scoff. Then scoff again while attempting to locate my words.
“I honestly don’t know what the heck is going on here, Braxton. So you’re not here because you want to be. You have to be here?” I clench my jaw, then inhale deeply through my nose so I can speak at a more acceptable decibel.
“Yes, no. I mean, yes, Ace told me to come, but I truly do love it here. I wouldn’t lie about that, Madison.”
But lying about your name is okay?Deep breath, Madi. Deep breath and think.
“Braxton, people don’t just float into town, drop small cities’ worth of cash, and then walk away. I don’t get this, I don’t get you, and I really don’t understand why you, Pops, of all people, would agree to this. Not after everything with Sam and…”
