Page 57 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire

“Diane von Furstenberg?” I ask him.

“That’s it,” he says, as he eases himself onto the sofa and picks up the TV remote. “Very talentedapparently. Elsie, I mean. Though, I don’t doubt Diane von Thingummyding knew how to hold a needle.”

“How did you meet Elsie?” I turn to put away the rest of the groceries that Grandpa’s now abandoned either because his knees are hurting and he wants to hide it, or because he wants me to know about Elsie but is too embarrassed to talk about her while looking at me or standing anywhere near me.

“At music night,” he says, turning on the TV news channel. “There was a male pianist and a woman singer. Afterward, one of the other residents was fairly critical of the playing, but Elsie and I agreed he was actually rather good. They did a wonderful performance of ‘The Great Pretender.’ You know, that song from the sixties. Or was it the fifties? Anyway, Elsie and I thought it was splendid.”

Elsie and I.Huh.

I dig my teeth into my top lip to disguise my growing smile. “I don’t know that song, no. But I’ll look it up when I get home.”

Home. Oops, that was a slip.

But I guess Grandpa’s house has always felt more like home than anywhere else.

And now that I think about it, I haven’t thought about Chicago since Miller kissed me yesterday.

God, it’s ridiculous that I’m so preoccupied with him. If we both think it was a terrible idea, then that’s fine. We just need to move on. I can’t let it become awkward.

I’ll go see him as soon as I get back, rip off the Band-Aid and make things normal. I can’t afford to lose the only help I have just because there’s a weird atmosphere between us.

I roll up the grocery bags and perch on the arm of the sofa. “It’s good that you’re comfortable here.”

“Got a lot going for it, this place.” He looks up at me with a smile that makes his eyes sparkle in a way I haven’t seen for a long time.

“Well, it makes me happy to know that whenever the sanctuary becomes too much for you, you’ll be happy to move in here.”

“Oh, I won’t be leaving those donkeys any time soon.” He pats me on the leg. “Don’t write me off just yet.”

“Not only am I not writing you off, I think those new knees might be giving you a new lease on life.”

My mind flashes back to feeling like I had a new lease on life myself when I walked from the barn to the house yesterday, my body still buzzing from Miller. I didn’t actually walk so much as float.

But that’s ridiculous.

I kiss Grandpa on the head and get up to go. “I’ll come back tomorrow evening and we can play some blackjack.”

“Don’t worry about coming tomorrow,” he says, turning back to the TV. “I know how busy you are organizing the Thanksgiving open day. Which is a fantastic idea, by the way. So no, don’t you bother with me.” He coughs. “Oh, and Elsie asked me to teach her how to play, so we might start tomorrow night.”

I feel like a parent, inwardly giggling at their teenager awkwardly trying to pretend they don’t have a girlfriend.

“Okey dokey, then,” I say, unable to suppress a smile. “I’ll give you a shout. In the meantime, just be sure to keep those knees moving, but don’t overdo it.”

“Love you, sweetie,” he says.

My throat tightens and my heart twinges at the phrase he always used when he said goodbye to me and Grandma, except that back then it wassweetiesplural.

“Love you too, Gramps. Call me if youneed anything.”

I close the door behind me, delighted he has something that’s put a spark back in his eyes.

Now to extinguish the inconvenient spark in mine and straighten things out with Miller.

I pull up into the driveway behind a white van with the words “Cross & Grain. A Family of Master Carpenters” over an illustration of a stack of wood on the side.

Who the hell is this?

I’m opening the truck door when Miller comes jogging over, a beaming smile lighting up his ridiculously handsome face.