Page 58 of Fake Dating My Billionaire Boss

“Do you have something against my grandmother?” I ask when she finally sets her phone aside.

It’s a question I shouldn’t have to ask.

Why would Bella have beef with my grandmother? I feel almost foolish for posing the question. Maybe I’m misinterpreting her behavior.

“Look,” she says while hopping off her barstool and carrying her plate to the sink. “There are some things we just shouldn’t talk about. Yet. Maybe once I sort this out…”

“Sortwhatout?”

Instead of answering me, she grabs her phone off the counter, turns off the music, and stuffs it in her back pocket. “I have to go out for a little while. Important mission. I’m going to leave Bo here if it’s cool with you. Are you heading back to work?”

“I guess so. Yeah.” I look at my watch—as though it might orient me. But the fact that it’s now 2:37 in the afternoon doesn’t change the fact that Bella’s got beef with my grandma, and now she’s going on a ‘mission.’

This can’t be good.

I run a hand through my hair. “I’ll probably head back to the office pretty soon.”

“Got it. I’ll settle Bo in downstairs. He'll be fine here for a couple of hours. This shouldn’t take long. Come on, Bo, sweetie! Mamma has to go out and you get to take an afternoon nap. Wish I was so lucky.” Then, with Bo on her heels, she heads for the stairs.

At the top, she glances over her shoulder at me. “Hey, we’ll catch up later?”

“Yes. I’d like that.”And I’d also like it very much if you’d refrain from speaking in riddles.

Bella confuses me.

She bewilders me and makes my head spin. Most of the time, it’s good to feel stirred up. But right now, as I watch her trot down the stairs, I have a knot in my stomach.

Usually, she takes Bo with her when she runs errands, and even when she goes to her friend Fizzy’s house. Apparently, he’s allergic, but he has an outdoor balcony off his apartment that he fixed up for doggy visitors. She must not be going to the bank, the grocery store, or Fizzy’s place.

So, where’s she going?

Chapter 18

Bella

Fizzy’s enjoying this. I am not.

I have a knot about as big as a softball sitting in the pit of my stomach.

I guess I should be glad that Fizzy’s in his element. I’d rather not break into Damian’s grandmother’s condominium on my own, so I should be grateful that he agreed to come along.

Right now, he’s gleefully peering through binoculars that are aimed at a gap in the hedges we’re crouched behind. His round cheeks are flushed with excitement, and the pink tint matches the fuchsia of his bowtie. His polka-dot, short-sleeved button-up shirt is tucked into his khakis, which now have grass stains on both knees. Through the gap, I know, he has a view of Golden Horizons Unit 14.

Minerva Knight’s home.

If I was ten or even twenty years younger, maybe I’d get some sort of kick out of the fact that he used his internet research skills to dig up Minerva’s exact address and that we parked a block away and snuck into the upscale retirement community througha back way, keeping out of sight the whole time. I’d be grinning just like Fizzy is about the fact that he had the nerve to sneak up to her patio door and slide it open six inches, before joining me here behind the shrubbery, and he didn’t even get caught.

We used to do stuff like this when we were younger, and it was always fun and exciting.

But this time… it’s different.

I feel anxious and edgy, and I know Damian has something to do with the fact that I keep lifting my fingernails to my teeth and nibbling the edges.

He said our situation requires a leap.

And he wants to take that leap.

“He came home from work, right before I left to meet you here,” I whisper to Fizzy.

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