Page 40 of Fake Dating My Billionaire Boss

“If I knew who that was, I’d appreciate the joke.”

“You’re kidding me! You don’t know Winnie the Pooh? He’s the chubby bear guy who only wears a red t-shirt. He lives in the Hundred Acre Wood with Christopher Robin, Eeyore, and Piglet?”

I shake my head. She smiles at me in a way that makes me feel like I’m the most interesting, happiness-inducing human on the planet. If I can make her smile like this, I must be doing something right.

Rays of the setting sun cast a peach glow on her white dress. Her hair is half up, half down, and she’s wearing earrings that dangle down off her perfect earlobes and sparkle almost as brightly as her eyes.

“Okay, here I was feeling deprived because dinner with my dad these days involves hotdogs and mustard—and not even the nice kind of mustard, either. But now I’m wondering ifyou’rethe one who’s missing out.”

“I’ve never minded hot dogs. If they’re boiled. Grilled, not so much.” She scrunches her nose at me.

“Wow, weird. Same here. I think for most people it's the other way around.”

When I catch a glimpse of Addison stepping through the French doors behind Bella, I realize that I don’t want this to end. I want to stand here and talk about nothing but fictional children's book characters and boiled hotdogs with Bella Sinclair for hours.

That surprises me because I’ve always hated small talk. Usually, it drains me. But somehow, with Bella, I’m finding that it’s different. She enlivens me.

When Addison joins us, she manages to position herself at my side, so we’re both facing Bella.

I try to shift away, but Addison’s walled me in so that if I move an inch, I’ll knock into the table.

“Sorry to be so rude and take a phone call like that,” she says with a polite smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “It was the hospital again. Goodness, can’t a girl get away for the day, play some golf with good friends,” she leans into me, “and then enjoy a nice meal?”

I have to reach out and actually push her upright, so she’s not touching me anymore. “That was something, bumping into you at the club like that. I wasn’t aware you were even interested in golf.”

“Your mother bought me lessons. Wasn’t that sweet?”

“Sweet, yes.”

Diabolical, is more like it.

“It was so fun, being out there with you,” Addison says. She flutters her lashes at me. “All that fresh air, sunshine, and great conversation.”

I did my best not to talk at all this afternoon. I suffered through hours of my father, his friends, and Addison’s discussion of the stock market, various knee and hip surgeries, and cholesterol. I now know that there’s such a thing as ‘good cholesterol’ and ‘bad cholesterol.’ I wouldn’t call any of those conversations great.

“I’m sorry you missed it,” Addison says to Bella. “I’m sure you don’t golf. It’s a very expensive pastime that not everyone can afford to enjoy. How’s that broken muffler of yours doing?”

Addison, you’re playing with fire,I think, as I watch Bella lift her chin defiantly. She’s about to defend herself with something brilliant, I’m sure, but at that moment, Addison’s backup arrives. My mother loops her arm around Bella’s waist, as though the two of them are best friends.

Bella stiffens, but aside from doing some kind of drastic lunge, she’s helpless in my mother’s claws now.

And I can’t come up with a good way to intervene, either. My mother’s too skilled at this for her own good.

“Bella, darling,” she sings, “come with me and I’ll show you the solarium. You’ll enjoy the greenery, seeing as your family has such deep roots in farming and agriculture. What was it your grandfather grew again? Corn?” With that, she steers Bella away.

Bella looks over her shoulder at me with wide eyes that cry out,‘Save me!’

But what can I do?

Addison steps neatly in front of me and reaches around to the carafe of drinks. While blocking my view she says, “It was worth it, if you ask me. Playing hooky from work, I mean. That was hospital administration on the phone. Misty Barlet is the biggest pain. She thinks I should work every weekend.”

I sigh.

Defeated.

I’ve been defeated.

I’m only vaguely aware of muttering a reply. It must be a sufficient response because Addison picks up the conversation as though I’m a willing participant. As if she and my mother didn’t just perform a pincer move, tackle me, and kidnap Bella.

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