Page 10 of Fake Dating My Billionaire Boss

He remains silent as I babble, so I feel like I’m talking in an echo chamber. “Anyway, I have sixty days to get out… but of course, the landlord picksnowto start doing a bunch of plumbing work. The only way I’ll be able to paint is if I have somewhere quiet to work. I was thinking—hoping, I guess—that you might be open to the idea of putting me up at your place.”

Crickets.

The only thing I hear is that muffled cello music.

And… was that a splash?

“Hello?” I say.

“I’m here.”

Yes, there’s a distinct echo when he speaks. I’ve caught Damian in the bathtub. I don’t even want to imagine—

An image of bubbles and a rubber ducky flit across my mental landscape. I stifle a laugh.

I’ve reached the point of tiredness where one feels sort of punch-drunk and giddy.

And, maybe thinking about hunky, dark-eyed Damian, scowl and all, flicking bubbles off his hand to answer the phone has given my mood a boost.

“What do you think?” I ask.

“Fine,” he barks.

Bo’s finished peeing and sniffing around the elm tree. He wanders back to me and plops his furry bum down at my feet. His blue eyes sparkle expectantly.

I’ve always taken care of Bo, ever since I picked him up from the animal shelter three years ago. I smile down at him.No couch surfing for us, bud.

“Great. Awesome. Thank you. Really. I guess this weekend I’ll pack my stuff and get it into storage… and Bo and I will see you Monday.”

I wait for a reply, but Damian’s gone mute again.

All I hear is another drippy splash.

I don’t want to give him too much time to think this over. I utter a hasty “Bye” and then hang up.

Bo gets to his feet and wiggles happily before turning and trotting down the sidewalk. He’s always liked our evening strolls on this block. Hopefully, he’ll like country life, too. How could he not? Silver Springs is a charming little town.

The living situation, however, I have the feeling that it will be distinctly lacking in charm.

Damian wasnotthrilled at the prospect of having a house guest.

We’ll win him over,I tell myself, as I watch Bo lift his leg to mark yet another fence post along our route.

Chapter 5

Damian

Would it be a mistake to throw this cellphone into the toilet? I glance over at the porcelain bowl.

It’s Monday, 9:16 in the morning, and already my mother’s texted me five times.

Five.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut as the phone beeps yet again.

Make. It. Stop.

With a frustrated sigh, I snatch up the device and open her latest.

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