Page 37 of Fake Dating My Billionaire Boss

“Ah, that’s right. Bella Sinclair.” Her black eyes flash, and for all I know she’s just committed my name to memory so she can whip up a curse later.

She thumps her cane down and steps toward me. “Empty that pocket of yours.”

I will not be bullied by a woman who is a foot shorter than me, and many, many decades older. She has a hump in her back, and her knuckles are so knobby, I doubt she could make a fistif she wanted to. But she did move fast, crossing the room. And she’s wielding a cane…

No. I won’t fight Minerva Knight. Now that I have the envelope, all I have to do is get out of here.

I should re-tape the boxes and tidy the mess I made. I really should. I promised Damian I would. But my hammering heart is making me painfully aware that I’m frightened of this woman, stooped spine, knobby knuckles, and all.

So, I step around her and head for the door.

“Do not walk away from me, young lady!” she calls feebly.

I pick up my pace to a double-time walk. Not a jog. I won’t literally run away from her. I have some pride. But I will speed walk. “Nice meeting you! Gotta run!”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound of her cane against the floor as she follows me is enough to make goosebumps pop up on my arms.

When I burst out into the sunshine, I nearly bump smack into Damian’s chest.

I manage to stop before smashing my nose into his pecs. I’m close enough that he has to reach out and grip my upper arm to stop me.

“Whoa, there,” he says, as he holds onto me.

The sound of his voice, deep and familiar, steadies my nerves. And the feel of his large hand wrapped around my arm helps, too. I haven't felt him touch me since we kissed.

Energy pings along my nerve endings.

Second later, he releases me. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Your grandmother Minerva is upstairs. She saw your car… Something about pie…”

He mutters a swear under his breath. “I should start parking a few blocks away.”

“You should. You really should.” I swipe Bo’s leash out of his hands. “You two have fun?”

I ask because I should ask. It’d be the normal, cheery-Bella thing to do, and he’s probably expecting it.

But inside, I don’t feel normal.

Or cheery.

I feel confused.

Why did my mom take such pains to hide these water rights documents from sight? Why did she address the envelope to me?

My eyes still feel puffy and raw from the tears I shed upstairs.

I reach a hand up and run my fingertip across my lower lid.

I can’t tell Damian about the envelope. I don’t really know what I’m dealing with, yet.

So, as Damian says something about “...he really doesn’t like skateboards, does he?” I pull Bo away. “You’re leaving?” he asks. “I feel like you just got here.”

“Don’t want to overstay my welcome,” I call out over my shoulder. Then I turn and talk while walking backward. “And you’re busy and everything. Oh, and I didn’t tape up the boxes like I said I would and I’m sorry about that. Your grandma spooked me and—”

My bum hits my car door. “Oof.”

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