Page 26 of Her Filthy Cold Billionaire Boss

“I am not.” I wiped my face. “Maybe allergies. There’s pollen everywhere.”

“Bullshit. You’ve got the voice.” Gram’s voice softened. “Talk to me, Eden.”

I looked out at the garden, watched the gardeners in their matching raincoats huddle over a busted sprinkler head. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“Welcome to adulthood,” Gram said. “Is it the boss?”

“Of course, it’s the boss. It’s always the boss.” I pulled the hair tie that was pulling far too tight, loosening it to give my screaming scalp relief. “He kissed me last night.”

Gram was silent for a moment. “Was it any good?”

I almost dropped the phone. “Gram!”

“Don’t get all Victorian on me. Was it worth the drama?”

“Yes,” I said, before I could stop myself. “No. I don’t know.”

“Pick a side,” she said.

I lowered my head to my free hand’s palm, pressing skin to skin. “He’s impossible, Gram. He’s cold, then warm, then he acts like nothing happened. I don’t know how to read him. I don’t even know if I want to.”

“Yes, you do.” Her tone was as sharp as the kitchen shears I watched her use to take apart full chickens for soup in myyouth. “You want him, or you wouldn’t be calling me at noon on a workday.”

I tried to argue, but she rolled right over me. “Let me tell you something, Edie. You’re not the kind of girl who melts for a pretty face. You like projects. You like puzzles. You like people you can’t figure out.”

“Are you saying I’m a masochist?”

“I’m saying you don’t have to fix him to love him.” She let that hang in the air for a second. “He ever hurts you, you call me. I’ll break his knees. But until then, just…let yourself want something for once.”

I stared at the roses, at the mist rising from the damp beds. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can,” Gram said. “You’re a Blake. We don’t do half-measures.”

I smiled. “That’s how you ended up with four ex-husbands.”

“And I don’t regret a single one. Except maybe Steve. Or was it Larry?” She clicked her tongue. “Anyway. I like this for you. I like you being happy, even if it scares you.”

It did scare me. It scared me more than anything.

Gram must have heard it in my silence, because her voice softened again. “You’re going to be okay, kid. And if you’re not, you’ll at least have a good story for my funeral.”

I blinked tears out of my eyes. “Not funny, Gram.”

“I know,” she said. “But you smiled. I could hear it.”

We were quiet for a moment. I could hear the gardeners below, the faint drone of a leaf blower, the gentle thump of my own heart.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Don’t thank me yet. Go get him, tiger. Or let him get you, whichever comes first.”

I laughed. It felt good. It felt real. “I’ll try.”

“You better. Love you.” She hung up before I could say goodbye.

I set the phone down and stared out over the tree-covered mountains in the distance. Outside, the roses glowed pink and gold, sunlight breaking through the clouds for the first time all day.

But I had things to do and places to be. But first, I needed something to put in my angry stomach, so I made my way to the kitchen, only to be cornered by Maribel.