Page 63 of Fake Dating My Billionaire Boss

I’ve opened my home to this woman, not to mention my heart. And now here we are—standing outside of the police department she was just released from.

“No. We can’t leave until we talk this through. You’re here in town, staying in my home, to paint—not loot retirement communities.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “Loot?Do you think Ilootedthe Golden Horizon’s condominiums, like some street criminal on a spree after a hurricane or something? Like I drove over there to fill the trunk of my car with large-print novels, knit blankets that smell like mothballs, and costume jewelry?”

“My grandmother owns very expensive jewelry, actually. A ruby necklace that I know of, in her collection, is worth tens of thousands. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this.”

She throws her arms up. “I can’t believe you!”

“And I can’t believe you! When my mother called me to say you were in jail, I thought she’d made some sort of mistake. I thought there was no way. But then she sent me a photograph of you standing in front of a backdrop of Grandma Minerva’s drapes. So, I’m asking you for an explanation. I really don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

She rubs the goose-bumped flesh off her bare upper arms. A wind pulls at her hair, and more raindrops pepper us and the sidewalk around us.

“Fine, you want an explanation? I didn’treallysteal from her. Maybe that doesn’t make sense to you, since you’re so black-and-white, but this is nuanced. Believe me, Damian. There are subtleties. Like who owns what, really.”

“I asked for a direct answer. Not more of these wishy-washy, confusing statements that make no sense.”

“I’m doing the best I can. Would you just believe me that there’s some complicated stuff going on here? Stuff you don’t know about?”

“Then tell me about it. Because what I do know is that I mentioned my grandmother’s blueberry pie, and you jumped out of your seat like it was spring-loaded and headed out onsome ‘mission.’ The next thing I know, I’m looking at a photo of you smiling—guiltily, I might add—in my grandmother’s condo before getting carted off to the slammer.”

“I may have given her a guilty smile, but that’s only because she caught me trespassing, and that did make me feel sort of guilty—even though I had a right to trespass, in the big picture view of things. And besides that, how wouldyousmile after getting the butt end of a cane rammed into your back?”

“I don’t know, Bella.” I rub my forehead. Maybe if I massage my head long enough, some of this strange conversation will start to make sense.

Why does Bella think she has a right to trespass?

Bella crosses her arms over her chest and scowls at me through the curtain of rain now separating us. “I’d never rip off an elderly person, you know. Though I have to say, if there was anyone who deserves to be taken down a peg, maybe it’s your grandmother. She’s kind of witchy, and not the cute,Sabrina the Teenage Witch,Hilda and Zelda kind of way, either. I mean theHansel and Gretelmean-witch kind that likes to keep little kids in cages, fatten them up, and eat them. That might sound harsh, but she’s the one who called the cops on me. I don’t care how many cups of coffee and donuts I got served. I was still locked up for hours and it wasn’t fun.”

“So, now you’re calling my grandmother a witch. Great.”

“Damian, I think I actually heard her say to her lawyer that she’d have no problem killing off all the squirrels in her yard. Squirrels are cute and innocent. The exact word she used was ‘exterminate.’ Who, except a cold and heartless person, would actually want to exterminate squirrels?”

“I think the better question—and the more relevant question—is why you were listening to my grandmother talk to her lawyer in the first place.”

The rain falling on us has flattened my hair so that I see spikes of dark brown interfering with my view.

I swipe at my eyes and clear my vision in time to see Bella shiver and eye the car.

“Fine,” I say, with a sigh of frustration. “We can talk in the car.”

“With the heat blasting? While we drive? Because we really do have to get home. I just heard thunder, and Bo’s probably super freaked out.”

Chapter 20

Bella

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Damian’s muscles ripple around his jawline as he clenches his teeth. His knuckles, gripping the wheel, are pale, peachy-white, and he keeps huffing and sighing like I’m not giving him the answers he wants to hear. But what can I do?

My hands are tied. I don’t want to lie to him, but I can’t tell him the truth.

He may be gorgeous and sensitive and smart and funny. Hands-down the best kisser and cuddler I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I love talking with him and laughing with him, and I’ve never seen Bo look at anyone with quite so much adoration in his eyes as he has when he looks at Damian.

But he’s also a Knight. And earlier today, as I listened to Minerva chat with her loyal lawyer, Charles, I started to get a grasp on the situation I’m in. Us Sinclairs own the Silver Spring.

The Knights—Minerva especially, but who knows how many more of them are involved? —are working to keep that truth buried.

It’s exactly like Fizzy said.

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