Page 18 of The Damaged Billionaire

I hit her number and wait.

“Tennyson?” She says my name in question, just like she did last night.

“Willow?” I do the same to her, a small smile coming to my mouth at the mere sound of her voice.

“Everything all right?” she asks, probably assuming the worst. Who knows what other jackasses she has had to deal with down in DC before. It is nice to be asked, though. My mother never gave a shit about me; my brothers are the only lifelines I have.

“Yeah.” I sigh, already feeling the tension from my workday leave my shoulders. “Just can’t sleep.” I offer her my excuse for calling, waiting for her to hang up, but she doesn’t.

“Me neither. Betty is extremely hyperactive for some reason,” she murmurs, and I imagine her running around, chasing her stray cat.

“I can’t believe you are a cat lady.” I may love pussy, but I dislike cats. It is like they can look into my soul, understand how black it is, then want to scratch my eyes out. Happens every time I get near one, and I don’t imagine Betty to be any different.

“Well, I never thought I would be either, but here I am, taking in cats and feeding their friends.”

“Friends? So there is more than one now?” I ask, holding back a laugh.

“Another guy showed up yesterday. A big tom cat who must have caught on that Betty is being fed.”

“Oh, so tomorrow you will have all the neighborhood cats then,” I say, my laughter sneaking through, to which she huffs.

“No! I hope not. I don’t mind feeding and looking after one, but I don’t have time for any more,” she says, almost panicked.

“I just don’t get the appeal,” I say honestly.

“What is wrong with cats? They are smart, good companions, clean.” I hear a meow in the background, like Betty’s agreeing with her.

“I’m more of a dog person myself.” I couldn’t think of anything worse than a cat in my apartment.

“Oh, you should get a dog! Yes, it will be perfect. It will give you responsibility, and it would be great for your reputation,” she offers, her voice rising an octave at her idea. I laugh at hearing her immediate excitement. Even when she is about to sleep, her mind still is in work mode, thinking of strategies and tactics for her clients.

“I’m not sure…” I start to say before she cuts me off.

“You could rescue one. You will have to look after it, train it, walk it, feed it. It is a great addition to keep you busy, but also you get to save a pet that someone else abandoned,” she continues, and the fact that she appears so happy with the thought is almost enough reason for me to agree on the spot.

“I don’t have time for a dog.” Work is kicking my ass at the moment. It’s a good excuse.

“Of course you do. I have seen your diary. You can walk the dog every morning, take it to work with you, and play with it at night.” Her mind’s already made up. I rub my face, thinking about how Willow knows almost every move I make and how I spend my time. I don’t know how our conversation turned into me getting a dog, but there is no way I could ever say no to this woman, especially not now that I’ve heard how happy this makes her.

“I have no idea where to even look for a dog.” I have never had an animal before. My mother never liked having them around after Harrison had a dog and it dug up all her roses. She was always about appearances rather than happiness, even back then. The mere thought of getting a dog now just to piss her off even more sounds rather appealing.

“I will do some research and schedule something in your diary.” I imagine her tapping on her tablet, getting it all sorted. “How is the work situation going?” she asks, and my mind moves to the other issue I am battling.

“My lawyers have found a loophole in the contract, and I released the interiors firm today, much to their displeasure,” I tell her. The decision is still weighing heavy on my shoulders. This change will push the project back a few months at best. This simple decision will cost us money. A lot of money. I don’t like losing money. I don’t like losing. Period.

“Have you found anyone else who is up to standard to take the job on?” Willow asks, and I can hear the rustle of her bedsheets and know she is tucking in for the night. I wonder briefly if she is in her bed socks again, the thought making me smile and relaxing into my own sheets.

“We have a few companies that we had on file from the tender initially, so my team is going back to them to see if this is something they are willing to jump on. I also have my brother and his legal experts reviewing all the contracts for all our suppliers to see if we are using anyone else who isn’t signed up to the anti-slavery laws, and if so, we will need to switch them out too.” Even though it is a lot of work, and a loss of money, I am proud to be making this change. It is overdue, something that me and my brothers should have done with all our businesses and it’s something I will bring to their attention.

“Sounds like you have it all under control. You are good at your job, Tennyson. Anyone can see that.” That small compliment from her, in the peacefulness of the night, flutters over my skin, almost encasing me in a warm hug. Genuine compliments are not something I receive a lot of. It feels nice.

“Unless it all goes to shit, and I bankrupt the firm with the changes,” I say with a huff of sarcasm.

“You could always go into dog training…” she says, and I laugh. After a quiet moment, I hear her yawn, and I know she is battling sleep.

“I will let you go. You need your sleep,” I say quietly, imagining that she would talk to me all night, probably putting my needs in front of her own.

“Good night, Tennyson,” she says quietly, and I can hear the sleepiness in her tone.

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