Page 37 of The Elusive Billionaire

Nothing we did made a difference. Not until she became pregnant with Sage. If my father hadn’t been so crazy, I think having Sage would have saved her from some of her demons.

“Grey?” Savvy kneels in front of me, and if the expression on her face is any indication, she’s called my name more than once.

Is it stress causing her to play with her food, or did I miss all the signs again?

My brain works to recall everything I know about eating disorders before neatly categorizing and storing the data to be called upon in an instant.

Don’t call attention to the meal. Don’t comment on how much she’s eating. Don’t judge.

Distract.

Distract.

Distract.

“Want to play a game?” It’s out of my mouth before a full thought has formed.

She sits back on her heels, blinking as though she doesn’t understand my question.

“A game?”

I nod in response.

“What kind of game?” Her head tilts as she chews on the inside of her lip.

Leaning forward brings me into her personal space, but I press a little more so I can drop my plate on the table behind her, basking in the hitch in her breath when my forearm skims hers.

“I don’t know. Let’s see what Moose left behind.” Reluctantly, I pull away from her and stand.

The sound of her fork against the plate causes me to glance over my shoulder, and my suspicions rise even more as she pushes food all the way to the edges of it.

The cabinet under the TV squeaks as I force it open and begin removing board games.

The first game I pull out is Monopoly, and I instantly toss it into the empty fireplace.

“Not a fan?” Savvy snickers.

“No.”

The next is the game of Life. Fucking hell. Who chose these things? The box shifts in my hands, but it makes no sound, so I carefully lift the cover to find it empty.

Not Life then.

Guess Who and Checkers are also empty.

Pictionary has the board, but no cards.

Uno is filled with flashcards for division.

“What the hell?”

Savvy laughs, and I realize she’s standing behind me, looking over my shoulder. “I bet Moose’s grandchildren are responsible for this.”

“Animals.”

“Oh, come on. Like you always put the pieces away correctly when you were a kid?”

I must flinch, because Savvy’s gaze softens.