Page 41 of Railing the Billionaire

“I need to go.” I hung up the phone and shoved it back into my pocket.

Then I finished fixing the sink and headed out to meet Oma in the garden.

Layana Hartley was the most frustrating human being I’d ever met. I couldn’t imagine having to repeat last night. Pamela’s proposal would require exactly that, and far more time together.

Layana wanted to see me, yes, but certainly there was no way she would be willing to fake date me. She despised me as much as I loathed her. What if she found that torturing me was worth suffering herself?What if she said yes?

I needed time to think.

THIRTEEN

LAYANA

The cacophony of buzzing and dripping filling Eterni-Tea felt like an assault on my eardrums. Sure, it was all the same gentle sounds at exactly the same gentle volume as every night, but tonight it felt targetedandpersonal.

It was as if the percolators knew Gabriel was completely ignoring me, and they knew I hadn’t been able to write in two days. Each droplet was a needle in my side, a whispered taunt reminding me I’d screwed up, even though I had no idea how.

I reopened our text exchange from Sunday, and reread what we’d said for the gazillionth time.

I’d sent the dick pic. He corrected me about the time of day. We shared some playful banter. I asked to see him again.

Then nothing.

I’d sent another dick pic on Monday, a happy little guy with a smiley face drawn on the side of the shaft. Still nothing. If that wouldn’t elicit a response, I didn’t know what would.

The calendar turned over to Tuesday about an hour ago. I was growing desperate. Didn’t Gabriel understand how badly I needed to write? That when I couldn’t, it was like my eyelids were glued open and a family of caffeine-fueled racoons had nested under my skin?

A bit of bile rose up in my throat at the visual.

If Gabriel didn’t respond soon, I’d be left with no course of action but to force him to see me. I’d have to show up, maybe at his office, which had worked out for me last time, or maybe at his home. Unfortunately, both options included gatekeepers, which I’d have to somehow bypass.

If I tried climbing the brick wall around Gabriel’s neighborhood, what were the chances I’d get tased and thrown right back out? Hmmm.

The café door opened.

A tiny glimmer of hope bloomed in my chest. Perhaps detecting my strife, Gabriel had come to his senses and ran his tight buns straight to me. We were supposed to be helping each other, dang him.

And then Dani walked through, snuffing that glimmer right out.

Today she had on a long wool skirt instead of sleep pants, but the rest of her get-up was the same as always.

“Hi, Layana,” she said, loosening the neck hole in her hoodie enough for her eyes and nose to fit. Her mouth remained hidden. “It’s me, Dani.”

“Hi, Dani. Do you want your usual?”

She shuffled toward the counter. “Oh, yes.”

I filled a cup with the mix of teas she fancied, and topped it off with a squirt of goat’s milk. Then I made sure to write her name on the side nice and big so we didn’t have to go through that whole thing again.

She set money on the counter, along with a stack of papers.

“This is my blog,” she said.

There were handwritten notes and scribbles in red pen all over the top page.

“I can’t read it,” I told her.

“You have to.”

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