Page 50 of Fake Dating My Billionaire Boss

My eyes snap open and I have to dig into the pocket of my lounge pants to find the singing device. As I wriggle and free it, I notice I’m alone on the couch.

No sleepy billionaire, cradling me close.

Where did he go?

Why do I miss him, already?

“Hello?” I yawn as I haul myself up to a sitting position.

“Whew. You sound rough. Tie one on, last night? Hungover?”

“No… no. I mean unless a carb hangover counts. I ate a greasy grilled cheese at one am.”

“Uh oh. Greasy grilled cheese is your comfort food. Does that mean dinner atChez Knightdidn’t go well?”

I peer around the deck, looking for signs of life. Besides Bo, I’m alone. “It went great, actually.” I keep my voice low in case Damian’s out of sight but within earshot. “I mean, the dinner was tense and awkward at times. But when we got home, we went for a long walk in the woods and then ate and sipped soda and talked…”

“We, we. Who is this ‘we’? You and Bo?”

“Yes, Fizzy. Me and Bo ate comfort food together and talked ‘til the sky turned that silvery, pre-dawn color.”

“ But youcan’tmean you and Damian. He’s King of the Grumps!”

“He is, to most people. But not to me. Not anymore.”

“Shoot, girl! You turned Grumpy Pants into Prince Charming!”

I grin out at the sun-dappled treetops. “For now, at least. Oh my gosh, Fizzy. He’s amazing. He even counts shooting stars. Isn’t that sweet? He said he’s counted everyone he’s ever seensince he was a little kid. Last night he saw number one-hundred and ninety… um…” I scroll through my memory banks, trying to recall the exact number. “Ninety-seven, I guess, because he said he was three away from two hundred.”

“He counts falling stars? Good gracious, if the women in town find out about that, they’re going to be swarming that castle on a hill of his, trying to bust down his door. What’s your game plan?”

“Hm? Game plan?” I feel dreamy as I gaze out at the colorful, summer-sun-bathed landscape.

I may as well have rose-colored glasses on. The entire horizon line looks as though it’s been sprinkled with glitter. The treetops are an emerald green so sparkly, I doubt I could mix it on my palette, even with the most high-end set of paints. The clouds smile down at me. Even the birds seem to be singing just for me.

I wander toward the edge of the rooftop and peek down toward the driveway. Damian’s SUV is gone. He must have left for work.

“What time is it, anyway?” I ask Fizzy.

“Almost noon,”

“Yikes. Half the day’s gone. I should get busy painting.”

“I guess when you spend the night with your boss, you can afford to start late. So… game plan?”

“First of all, we didn’t really spend the night together. Not like you mean. We talked. And kissed. And talked some more. And second of all, what do you mean, game plan?”

“Earth to Bella! You are at his house under false pretenses. Your painting. The commission. He’s not going to be happy.” I frown and reach for a strand of hair. As I twirl it nervously between my fingers, I note that the clouds aren’t smiling at me anymore.

“Hey, maybe I should start calling you King of the Grumps.”

“I may be bursting your little bubble, but it’s because I’m your friend and you need a reality check. A reality check, and a plan. A crush is one thing but kissing him is another. You’re getting ahead of yourself and now I’m worried about you. How is this supposed to play out?”

“I don’t know, and maybe I don’t need to know.”

“You’re living at his house and working for him, so I think you do need to know. Is this going to go on? Or was it a one-night kind of thing?”

“Fizzy… I think I need to have some coffee before I talk about this anymore.”

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