Page 51 of Fake Dating My Billionaire Boss

What happened with Damian last night can’t be a one-night thing.

Can it?

Now the birds sound frantic. Is that Blue Jay berating the others? The squawking sets my teeth on edge. I turn and walk toward the door that will get me off this deck.

“Yes, get yourself some coffee,” Fizzy says. “And while you do, let’s talk about something else. Those documents.”

I pull open a heavy metal door and hold it while Bo passes through. Damian’s house feels empty. I can hear the Roomba whirring in a room that I pass by, but this time it barely fazes me. Bo, however, wags his tail and trots off to play with the thing.

“Sure, the documents. Let’s talk about that.” It’s not the easiest of topics, seeing as it has to do with my mom, but at least it will be easier than dwelling on the idea that last night with Damian might have been a major blunder.

When I got home on Saturday afternoon, I took photos of every page of the water rights documentation and emailed the photos to Fizzy. Then I stuck the envelope in the guest bedroom dresser, under a pile of my socks and underwear, and headed over to Fizzy’s to discuss. We ended up splitting a take-out pizzaand chatting until seven or eight that night, but when I left, we still weren’t quite sure what to make of the water rights.

“Did you have a chance to do that research you talked about?” I ask Fizzy as I descend a staircase.

“I did. I don’t know if I can explain exactly how good it feels to be digging into this. It’s been gnawing at me for years… Your move. Your mother’s visit. I knew something was up. But, what? And now, to finally have this missing piece of the puzzle right at our fingertips…”

I reach a juncture in a hallway. To my left, I spy Damian’s master bedroom. Ahead, more hall. To the right…is that an indoor pool?“This house is wild,” I mutter into the phone. “I don’t know how I’d ever live in a house you can actually get lost in.” Behind me, I can hear Bo yipping playfully. “And also, can I just say that automatic vacuum cleaners are the bomb? They vacuum floorsandentertain dogs… at the same time.”

“Focus, Bella,” Fizzy says. “We’re talking about your mysterious past.”

I head straight, down the hallway. If I remember right, the kitchen is this way. “Okay, right. The missing piece of the puzzle is at our fingertips… but those documents are confusing. What did you figure out?”

“This morning I called the county Clerk and Recorder’s office in Delta,” Fizzy says happily. “The woman I spoke with was very kind and she wanted to be helpful. But she could only do so much. I read her the file number printed on the upper-right corner of the deed, and—”

“Hold up. Deed? I thought deeds were for land.”

“Water rights are considered ‘real property interests’ in New York, and transfers are done with deeds, just like when buying or selling land.”

“Okay…” I step into the kitchen and search the countertops for a coffee maker.

Coffee, coffee…

If I can just get some caffeine in me, maybe I’ll be able to keep up with Fizzy, who’s really on a roll now.

He jabbers in my ear at a fast clip. “...and there was a seven-digit number in the upper-right-hand corner, like I said. And I read it off to this very sweet and very kind clerk—Meghan was her name. If I ever have another local matter to research, I’m going to call her directly. She even said I could. Anyway, she said that unfortunately, there was a small trash can fire in their file room over a decade ago, and some of the paper records were destroyed when the sprinkler system went off. She couldn’t locate the deed matching the file number I recited…. The deed to the Silver Spring.”

I don’t see a coffee maker.

The only appliances out on the countertops are the sleek blender, a space-age-looking toaster oven, and a spiffy Espresso machine that looks like it was imported from Italy. I scowl at the espresso machine. So close… and yet so far.

“I’m going to have to go downstairs for my coffee fix,” I mutter.

“Are you listening to me?” Fizzy gripes.

“I’m listening! The records department doesn’t have the deed. But I have a copy, so we’re good. Maybe I could bring it in to them and this Meghan lady could take a look.”

“You missed the most important part. A small trash can fire. Didn’t you hear me say that?”

“I heard it. So?”

“So… that is ahugered flag. I hear ‘trash can fire’ and warning bells go off in my mind. Ding, ding, ding!”

I place my hand over the speaker so I can call Bo. “Bo? Bo! Leave that thing alone. Let’s go downstairs. Come on! Let’s go!”

In response, I hear his far-off, happy bark. He’s not leaving his robot friend mid-play date. I’ll have to collect him in a fewminutes. I head down the stairs alone, to the tune of Fizzy’s excited ramblings in my ear.

“And that, my dear, means we not only have a mystery on our hands, but we also have opposition.Someonestarted that fire.Someone’strying to destroy the evidence that your great-grandparents owned the Silver Spring. Who? Why? And what are they willing to do, to keep the truth buried?”

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