Page 20 of Date The Billionaire

“You know I can’t, Gran. I can’t jeopardize my business over this stupid show. At least, that’s what my lawyer said. They’ve got some very tiny print in a very odd place, that screws, uh, messes me over completely if I don’t at least finish the show.” I walked up the stairs and into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

“Well, I can’t say I’m sorry. You did meet this Laney girl, after all.” To a woman Gran’s age, anybody under fifty was a boy or a girl. I started to brush my teeth as she went on. “You are still taken with her, right?”

I gave a nod as I spit out toothpaste bubbles and rinsed my mouth. “Completely, Gran, that’s the only reason I haven’t throttled you yet.”

I washed my face and then went with her to the kitchen. “Sorry I wasn’t up earlier. My alarm just didn’t want to go off today.”

“It’s alright, boy. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Her fingers brushed over my hair lovingly as she walked by me. So many times I’d checked to make sure she hadn’t cut off my hair in a sneak attack and now I didn’t have to worry about that. She still made me nervous with those scissors, though.

“I can’t contact her at all. It’s crazy. I don’t know how they’d find out if I did, but still. I hate this, but you’re right, at least I met Laney.” I watched her as she started making biscuits, a measuring cup nowhere in sight, and wondered how many more times she’d get to make me breakfast.

A rather morbid thought, but a sensible one. Gran wasn’t going to live forever, that was part of the reason I was here now, to help her out as she aged. I’d needed a place to hide from a money-hungry public and she’d needed me, so here I was. She wouldn’t admit it now, but she needed far more help than she’d ever ask for.

“I’ll get that wood chopped and stacked up for you.”

Gran still used a wood-stove to heat the house in the winter and hated electric heat. A little exercise would do me a world of good and keep my mind off my problems.

“You’re such a good boy, Jake.” Her fingers were covered in biscuit dough, but there were now eight perfectly shaped biscuits in the pan.

She put the biscuits in the oven and washed her hands. I poured us both a cup of coffee and set it on the table as she sat down, the smell of frying sausage filling the air with sage and rosemary.

“How many eggs do you want this morning?” she asked, inspecting her nails for stray flour.

“Three. That pile of wood is pretty massive.” I grinned as she squinted at me, her cantankerous persona back in place.

“Gonna eat me out of house and home, boy!”

We both knew I paid the bills for her, but I let her have her fun.

“You always said food is fuel, Gran. If you want me to cut up that wood for fuel, I need some fuel.”

She glared at me before she finned back.

“I suppose you do.” She went through the motions from memory, turning the sausage, frying eggs, checking the biscuits, before she put the sausage on a plate and down into the oven she turned off. The rest would stay warm while she prepared the gravy.

We had a beautiful breakfast, broken only by the sounds of delight I made as I sank my teeth into gravy covered biscuits. I’d have to cook this for Laney one morning. Gran had taught me long ago how to cook for myself, but she’d never let me cook for her, not unless she was sick.

“Have you got bingo today?” I asked as she picked up her now empty plate and headed to the sink.

“Mary Beth is bringing the gin today,” she answered in a distracted tone, her gaze on the house next door. “Why don’t you get started on that wood, Jake, and I’ll get these dishes cleaned up.”

“I wish you’d let me buy you a dishwasher...” I started, but she cut in, the argument an old one.

“I don’t need none of that foolery, Jake. I have two hands, soap, and one of those sponge thingies. I can manage. Besides, it keeps my fingers nimble.” She cackled as though she’d made a dirty joke and I tried not to think about it.

Putting a flannel shirt over my long-sleeved T-shirt, I went outside and stuffed my feet into work boots before I grabbed the ax. A little bit of hard work would clear my head for the day. I was ignoring work I should be doing with my own business, but it was under control. I had built up a rhythm and had destroyed most of the pile when a sound stopped me mid-swing.

I turned to see the neighbor coming out of the house and going to her car. She looked strangely familiar, and I walked up the large oak on Gran’s side of the yard to get a better look at her. I stood there, stunned, as I watched Laney back the car up and drive away.

My first instinct was to run after her, to scream out her name until she stopped, but common sense held me back. My lawyer had been very specific about exactly what I’d lose, and I couldn’t jeopardize the years Gran had left by doing that. Even for love.

I watched her drive away and felt anger burn through me. I shouldn’t have to make these decisions, I shouldn’t have to choose between love and my Gran’s wellbeing. I had more money than some whole countries. I could build that all up again, right?

This was Laney, after all. Not a woman like Arabella, or the ones from the online dating sites offering to be my sex slave for a chance at plastic happiness. I looked back at the house and saw Gran in the window. She was beckoning me to come into the house.

“Son, sit down.”

“How did the show not figure it out, Gran?” I asked as I sat down in a rocking chair that was probably new twenty years before I was born.