Page 86 of The Thing About My Secret Billionaire

My feet slip and slide and slosh like I’m competing in a Tough Mudder competition, but without the glory.

I reach into my pocket for my gloves. Not there. Shit.

When I finally reach the gate, my wet, cold fingers fumble with the catch.

“Argh, fuck it,” I yell when it snaps down on my middle finger, which immediately starts to bleed.

Sticking the wounded finger in my mouth, I race across the field toward Doris, Waldo and Dave.

“Come on,” I shout as I get close enough for them to hear me over the storm. “Inside.”

Nothing. Three faces just stare back at me like they have no clue who this fool is running toward them, soaked through, in lashing rain they seem to be completely oblivious to.

“You can’t stay out here.” I’m almost right up to them now. “It’s bad for you. Come on.”

They still think I’m an idiot.

Didn’t Frankie tell me Waldo likes to chase her?

“Okay, let’s play a game where you run after me.”

I turn and jog away from them, my entire world consisting of the sound of the rain slapping my hood and my boots slopping in the mud.

I give it a few seconds before I turn to look back.

Yes! Waldo and Dave are trotting after me. I’ll have to come back for Doris. And Dave’s going to be mighty disappointed when he finds out I didn’t bring carrots. Fuck. Why didn’t I bring any? That was Frankie’s first lesson—always be armed with carrots.

“That’s it fellas, come on,” I encourage them, in the vain hope words might be a sufficient substitute for crunchy treats.

I jog on, head down, until I make it to the stable and hope beyond hope that when I turn around they’ll both still be right behind me.

And there they are. Relief washes over me almost as much as the rain does.

“Thank fuck,” I pant.

There’s a huge flash of light in the sky behind them and my heart rate spikes.

“Quick. Inside, inside.” I run around behind them and give them each a pat on their backsides to hurry them up.It’s the first time I’ve touched them without gloves, but I’m terrified that if I don’t get them indoors, the impending clap of thunder might make them bolt and I’ll have to start all over again.

The thunder comes just as their rear ends are far enough inside the stable for me to slide the door closed behind them.

Oof. Thank God.

Leaning back against it for a second, I slump forward, hands on knees, water pounding my back, running off my hood and dripping onto my boots.

I take a few long, deep inhales and exhales to try to get my breath back.

There’s no choice but to soldier on. It’s the right thing to do. I know it is. And also, Frankie would be happy that I got them all inside safely.

It’s that final thought that drives me upright and looking at Doris farther out in the field.

“One to go,” I mutter and head off again.

As I get closer, she wanders slowly toward me. Oh, thank God.

“That’s it, Doris. Come on.”

Then she stops. And stares at me.