Page 84 of The Sugar Maple Inn

He looked up at her, eyes cold. “Why did you join the subreddit? Did you know who I was?”

Grace’s head snapped toward him. “What?”

“You heard me, Grace,” Reese said, hearing the wariness in his own voice. A deep sigh: “Did you know who I was? Did you join that subreddit because you found out WildTrailGuide was Reese Spencer, billion-fucking-aire?”

Her mouth fell open. “Are you—are you serious right now?”

“Three months ago. Right when the Blackwells started putting feelers out about selling the inn.” He held up his phone. “That’s when you created your account.”

“Because I was trying to figure out how to buy a business! I swear, I didn’t know who you were!”

He shook his head, a small smile. “How convenient.”

“Convenient?” Her voice rose. “You think I—what, researched you? Found out your Reddit handle? Created some elaborate scheme to trick you into falling for me online so I could—”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

The words hung in the air between them.

Grace stared at him. “You actually think that of me.”

Reese forced himself to hold her gaze even as something in his chest twisted. He couldn’t be weak. Couldn’t be taken for a fool again. Not fall for the smiles and flirtations from women who positioned themselves perfectly in his orbit.

“I’m saying it’s happened before,” he said coldly. “A million times. Women find out who I am, what I’m worth, and suddenly they’re everywhere I look. Suddenly we have so much in common. Suddenly it’s fate.” His laugh was bitter. He shrugged. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

Tears glistened in her eyes and it nearly broke him. But he held it together and the curtain really came down. Professional. Detached. Safe. “Hey,” he said softly, “don’t beat yourself up. We knew it was all just a bit of fun anyway. I liked it,” he heard himself say. “No big deal, so nothing to get worked up about.”

She stared at him for another long moment. Then she grabbed her phone from the nightstand, scrolled furiously through it and threw it onto the bed between them.

“Read that,” she said. “Then go to hell.”

She stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the frame.

Reese stood there, trying to ignore the way his chest felt hollow. Then his eyes dropped to her phone on the bed.

He hesitated. Told himself he didn’t need to look. That it didn’t matter.

But his hand reached for it anyway.

The screen showed a WhatsApp conversation. Contact name: Sophie

He scrolled up to three months ago.

Sophie : How’s the loan application going?

Grace: Nightmare. The bank basically laughed me out of the building.

Sophie : Arseholes. What about that online guy you mentioned? Any help with advice?

Grace: WildTrailGuide? Yeah, actually. He’s been amazing. Gave me templates for business plans, helped me understand what banks actually want to see.

Sophie : Is he hot? Tell me he’s hot.

Grace: I have literally no idea what he looks like. It’s Reddit, Soph. Could be a 70-year-old accountant for all I know.

Sophie : But you like talking to him.

Grace: He’s…helpful. Smart. Doesn’t treat me like I’m stupid for not knowing business stuff.