Page 51 of Laying Low With the Billionaire

That makes Ben grin. He claps his hand on the top of my arm, a sign of our friendship restored. “That she would. Don’t give her a reason to though, okay? You both deserve some happiness. Come on, I’ll see you at home.”

With that, he turns and walks back away. I notice he’s not in a hurry.

I jump into my car, turn it on, and just sit for a moment, soaking it in. Is this how real human adults feel when things are going their way? I’ve got a great job, great friends, and hopefully soon a great girl. It’s a kind of joy I can barely describe, a lightness inside my shoulders like balloons trying to float me away.

I think I like it.

I sit for a little while basking in it, then slide the car into drive and hurry back through the streets towards Anna.

CHAPTER32

ANNA

Iheave myself off the sofa and shuffle to the kitchen, dragging my feet on the floor. I’m wearing my favorite pair of blue, fluffy socks and my best oversized hoodie with the hood up and I feel like some sort of cave gremlin. I haven’t left the house in days.

I can’t stop thinking about Joel. I miss him.

Ben’s out at the supermarket or at work or something. I barely know what day it is. My head hurts from staring at my phone for too long and probably not drinking enough water.

The good news is, I think I’ve found an engineer. I’m interviewing her on Monday. She seemed really nice on the phone. Smart. I hope she’s the one, because even though I’m going to tell her I have other offers, I really don’t. I need something good to happen.

I really, really need something to start going my way this week. Otherwise I’ll just be friendless, homeless, broke, and alone. And I think that’s going to drive me crazy.

At least I’ve got Ben. He’s been so good helping me, offering me advice that I did and didn’t ask for about ways to start rebuilding. He can get a little bit overbearing, but it’s because he cares. I think a part of me always knew that being helped is frustrating, which is why I never wanted to accept it before.

I’m frustrated now anyway, help or no help. I’ve barely been productive all day, just sitting looking at cat videos and the blinking cursor of emails I don’t really want to send. So I’ve decided to treat myself to a little break. It might not be deserved, but I want one.

Since Ben got back, we’re really lacking in the snack department. I open the cupboard where Joel stashed all his candies and chips and find it painfully empty. I’ve eaten my way through everything Joel bought and even though Ben went grocery shopping, he’s just not a snack guy.

There’s one bag of really sad fun-shaped chips that weren’t even very good, but that’s all I’ve got to work with. Could I cook properly? Yes. Do I want to do that? Absolutely not. My motivation to do anything is rock bottom right now, and I don’t want to blame that all on Joel not being here, but at least he made being a loser fun.

All I’ve been doing since he left is pretend I can glue my life back together. But it’s all so fragile and my hands are shaking.

I must be hungry. I only get this fatalistic when my blood sugar gets low. Everything is going to turn out okay. That’s what I have to keep telling myself. I don’t need anyone else, but I do have Ben and I appreciate that, and everything will turn out okay. I repeat it in my head like a mantra.

Time to raid the fridge. Also disappointingly snackless, but maybe cheese on crackers would be good. Ben has tons of Mr. McMac’s finest sharp cheddar in here, and I’m pretty sure I saw some fancy salt and rosemary crackers somewhere around here. The more I think about it, the better it sounds. What has my life come to that cheese and crackers is the best part of my day?

While I’m rooting around in the cupboards, I hear the door open. “Hi!” I yell, not bothering to look up at my brother.

It’s when Joel says, “Hello,” that I bang my head on the counter above me.

“Shit!” I say, when really what I wanted to say washello Joel, oh my God have I missed you!

Dazed, I stand up to see him leaning on the fridge, grinning at me with that bright, delightful smile. I let out a disbelieving grin. Concussions can lie. Maybe this is all a hallucination brought on by injury and sadness. “Is it really you?”

He steps over to me and takes me into his arms, kissing the top of my head where I hit it. “There, all better,” he says. “Is that proof enough?”

I pull back to look at him, and so he can see me roll my eyes and laugh at him softly. He’s utterly ridiculous. “Why are you here?”

“I dragged him home,” yells Ben. “My treat.”

“Thank you!” I yell back before he shuts his bedroom door as if to signal that he doesn’t want to interrupt.

“Is he feeling okay?” I ask Joel. Going back on his word is pretty uncharacteristic of Ben.

“He told me there was, I quote, ‘a miserable girl wallowing around in his kitchen,’ and that she needed a little bit of cheering up.”

“Oh, so he thought he’d bring me you? Well, it’s better than nothing,” I grin, not bothering to pretend to be mad about this arrangement.

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