The Billionaire Book Club

by Monroe, Max

  Kevin: What’s the big deal? You work for him. Plus, if it’s a work function for his law firm, maybe you’ll meet some other lawyers…or judges, for that matter. It’s always good to have an in with judges.

  Jesus. He makes it all sound so simple, but he wasn’t the one who just thought his boss was possibly having a stroke because he stopped speaking English.

  Me: I don’t know. He was just…weird about it. And, like, it’s happening on a Saturday night…

  Kevin: Weird how?

  Me: I don’t know. He was kind of bumbly. And kept staring at me. And wouldn’t leave right away after he asked me.

  Kevin: What kind of function is it?

  Me: “A party.” He said nothing else.

  Kevin: My guess?

  Finally, he’s going to give me information I actually need.

  Me: YES. For the love of God, why do you think I’m texting you?

  Kevin: Work function or not, he’s probably considering it an actual date, and he was staring at you because he was picturing you naked.

  I startle at his words, and I almost drop the fucking phone. It’s like the first moment I met Cap all over again, except this time, I’m the one who’s supposedly naked and not Sergio and Catarina.

  Me: NO WAY!

  Kevin: Yes way.

  I shake my head as I type.

  Me: No. That’s not possible. It’s definitely some kind of work function. Not a date. Plus, this guy gets more ass than a donkey farmer. No way he’d ever be nervous about asking me out—or sleeping with me, for that matter.

  Kevin: Are there really donkey farmers? Like, is that a thing?

  A scowl settles onto my face. Does he really think this is an appropriate time for joking? After dropping that bomb?

  Me: I hate you so much right now.

  Kevin: Look, I’d bet my money on it’s the whole picturing you naked thing.

  Me: Why? Why are you so sure?

  Kevin: Because I’ve pictured you naked before, and that’s about how it felt.

  Me: YOU WHAT?

  I feel faint. Christ almighty, did my best friend really just say he’s pictured me naked?

  Kevin: Come on, Gem. You’re a beautiful girl. Seriously. You have to know that. Of course, once I got to know what a pain in the ass you are and met Julie, I stopped. But in the beginning, I pictured you naked all the time.

  Me: This has taken a disturbing turn. I don’t even know what to say now.

  Kevin: It’s been years, so you can relax. Even if Julie weren’t in the picture, I’d have no desire to have a relationship with you.

  Oh wow. Thanks, Kev. That really makes everything better.

  Me: Right. Excellent. I feel really good now.

  Kevin: You’re just…stubborn. And you like to bust guys’ balls.

  Me: I do not!

  Kevin: Gem. Be real. Why do you think all of your past relationships haven’t worked out?

  Me: Because I wasn’t with the right person.

  Kevin: That’s true. But you don’t give anyone a chance. You make snap judgments, and you maintain them. Honestly, I’ve never seen someone who can hold a grudge or an opinion longer than you. But, hey, it’ll make you a great lawyer.

  I sigh. Heavily. Why is he my best friend again?

  Me: Great. I can look forward to being a terrific lawyer and shitty human being. Lovely. Thank you for being such a good friend and telling me all of these wonderful things about myself. Really great pep talk, Kev.

  Kevin: Don’t be so dramatic. You and I both know that a good friend actually tells you the real shit. Not the sugarcoated shit. Plus, now that you know, maybe you can change, right?

  I blow out an amused breath from my now-pursed lips.

  Me: I guess.

  Kevin: Just take life as it comes for once, okay? Don’t fight everything so hard. You might be surprised where you end up.

  Take things as they come. I can do that.

  Definitely.

  Totally.

  I frown.

  Maybe.

  I guess I better get with the program pretty quickly. Because whether I’m ready or not, the party on Saturday is happening, and I’ve promised to be there.

  Caplin Hawkins’s plus one.

  Fuck me.

  Ruby

  I scroll back through my emails to the details Cap gave me and double-check everything one more time.

  St. Windsor Estate, 6 p.m., come in clothes that are comfortable.

  I look down at my yoga pants and hoodie, and then back up at the scrolling ivy on the 150-year-old mansion one more time.

  I don’t know what kind of sick, twisted thing this is that I was supposed to come comfortable to a multimillion-dollar place, but nerves are officially making a home in my belly.

  Lacking any other specific instructions, I knock on the front door and then tuck my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie.

  I feel like I’m about to be voted off the island for poor fashion sense, but I’ve never skipped out on a work engagement before, and I’m not about to start now.

  It’s not likely I’ll know anyone here anyway, and everyone knows that embarrassment in front of people you don’t know is finite.

  It’s the embarrassing things that happen with friends and family that last a lifetime.

  I listen intently for signs that someone on the other side of the door is coming to answer it, but I don’t hear anything.

  I take one hand out of my hoodie and raise it to knock again, when the door opens unexpectedly.

  In a pair of dark-wash jeans and a flannel button-down shirt, Cap looks completely different from how I’ve ever seen him. His light-brown eyes shine so brightly, they look like hard caramel candy, and his hair is combed into its normal neat style, but the rest of him is so…casual.

  “Ruby,” he says, his face lighting up from the corners of his mouth to the corners of his eyes. “You made it.”

  My already-nervous stomach flips over, and I put the hand in my pocket flat to it in a sad attempt to make it settle down.

  “I did. I’m feeling like I’m really out of place, but I’m here.” I glance up and down at his outfit again before remarking, “Though, I am feeling a little better now that I see you.”

  “People usually feel better when they see me,” he says smugly, and I can’t help but smile.

  God, he’s just so ridiculous.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything other than a suit.”

  He glances down and rubs a hand over his chest. “Oh.” He laughs. “Yeah, I guess not, huh? They’re a requirement of the job, but this is more my speed.”

  “Really?” I ask, quickly drawing my eyebrows together. I never would have guessed that. Suits seem to fit his personality so well.

  He shrugs. “Nothing wrong with a good suit,” he asserts. “But I wouldn’t wear them every day if I didn’t have to.”

  I nod, and then the two of us stand in silence for thirty seconds, just staring at each other. When my awkwardness seeps into fidgeting, I can’t hold my tongue anymore.

  “So…what do we do now? Didn’t you say there were assistant things to be done?”

  He startles a little and then nods. “Oh. Yeah. Assistant things. Follow me.”

  I step up and into the fancy house, and he closes the door behind me. Unsure of where to go, I move to the side and wait for him to come around me to lead the way.

  When he doesn’t, my eyebrows close the gap between themselves, and my patience takes a nose dive.

  “Okay, I don’t know what’s up with you, but if you don’t show me where to go, we’re going to be standing here all night. I highly doubt that’s on the task list.”

  “Right. This way,” he says with another laugh, waving at me to follow him up the sweeping, curved marble stairs. I step lightly, for fear my casualness might rub off on the finery, and do my best not to trip over my feet as I bounce my eyes from one ornate detail to the next.

  Long, luxurious curtains swoop
to the sides of the huge windows, and a detailed black railing cascades down the edge of both sides of the steps. A velvet sofa sits at the top edge of the landing, and I can’t help but smirk at the thought of someone actually using it. Like, Hey, I’m just going to hang out here and watch people go up and down the stairs.

  Before I can get too focused on the couch, though, Cap rounds the corner and heads down the massive hall to the right with long strides. I have to break out into a slow jog to keep up with him, but when he stops at a door, I end up running into the back of him.

  “Ah,” I groan awkwardly. “Sorry about that. You were moving really quickly, and then…you weren’t.”

  “It’s all right,” he says with a smile.

  And then, yet again, he just stands there.

  “Are we going inside that room by any chance? Because if we’re not, I might need to use the bathroom.”

  His chest rises and falls, like he’s taking a big, self-conscious breath. I shake my head to clear my vision because I know for a fact that Caplin Hawkins never does anything self-consciously.

  When I focus again, he’s turning the knob and sweeping the door open into the room, but instead of stepping inside, he puts his back to the wood and waits for me to go first.

  My steps are cautious, though I doubt I’ll find any large carnivorous animals inside, and my mouth goes dry.

  I look back at Cap once more and then turn to the room, where three racks of gowns, two rows of high-heeled shoes, and a high-backed chair sit waiting mysteriously. Not to mention, a beautiful, smiling, gray-haired woman stands in the corner, near a large vanity with every type of makeup known to the free world displayed across the top of it.

  My face turns scrunched with disquiet as I try to make sense of it.

  Meanwhile, the heat from Cap’s body radiates noticeably into my back.

  “Pick any outfit you want. And then Lucille will do your hair and makeup.”

  My head whips around, my hair flying out and over my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “For the party,” he says, like that explains any-fucking-thing at all.

  “What about the assistant stuff?”

  He nods. “This is it.”

  “Racks full of free dresses, expensive as hell shoes, and hair and makeup?”

  “Yeah,” he says, nodding again.

  “But why?”

  He smiles then, and I’m ashamed to say my heartbeat elevates. It’s something in the curve of his lips or the sparkle of his eyes. I’m not sure which. But Caplin Hawkins’s smile should be illegal in at least ten states.

  “You’re always beautiful, but I thought, maybe with this, you’d feel that way.”

  Confusion mars the skin between my brows.

  “I don’t think I’m Cindy Crawford, but I’m not lacking self-esteem. What exactly are you trying to say?”

  “Cindy Crawford?” he asks, avoiding the actual question. “That’s a little bit of an outdated reference, don’t you think?”

  “Cindy is a timeless beauty,” I say through clenched lips. “Now, answer my question.”

  He purses his mouth, and his eyes glaze with confusion. I’d like to say it’s fake, but I’m having a hard time knowing for sure. “What question was that exactly?”

  “What’s with all of this?” I snap. “I don’t get why you’d need me to be in top form for a work function.”

  He winces then, and I scowl. I can’t wait to hear what he has to say now. “Yeah, see…it’s not actually, like, a work work function. Just kind of sort of a family work function.”

  “Family work? What the hell does that mean?”

  “It’s my dad’s sixty-fifth birthday party.”

  My eyes go wide, and my jaw drops to my knees. “Cap!”

  “Come on, Ruby! I needed a date.”

  I scoff.

  “I didn’t want to bring any of my fuck buddies, and you already get along so well with my mother.”

  “Oh my God.” I gesture maniacally with both hands. “Your mother is going to be here?”

  He nods. “Yeah. She usually shows up for my dad’s birthdays.”

  “Why would you do this to me, Cap?” I nearly yell.

  “Because I’m thoughtful, goddammit. Appreciate it, for fuck’s sake.”

  I look back at the gowns and the shoes and the hair and makeup lady, and then down at myself. The sound of car doors closing grabs my attention, so I scoot over to the window closest to the door to look outside quickly.

  When I see people dressed to the nines, arriving for the party, apparently, I cower.

  It’s either this or a Shawshank Redemption-style escape.

  Son of a bitch.

  I guess I don’t have an option.

  Briskly, I grab Cap by the arm and drag him out of the room. Just before I close the door in his face, I smile. “I sure hope you’ve accounted for my raise in the budget.”

  I can hear his responding laugh through the thick, ornate wood, and I hate that it actually puts a smile on my face.

  This guy might literally be the death of me.

  But at least you’ll go down looking good. My brain offers a stupid silver lining, and I sigh.

  Yeah. Every girl’s dream. Going to the grave in Louboutins and Chanel.

  Cap

  My dress shoes make a series of muted thuds on the marble floors as I pace the foyer at the bottom of the stairs. I smooth a hand over one sleeve of my tux, adjust the amount of cuff that peeks out from the edge of my jacket, and check the placement of my cuff links four or five times.

  I’m a bundle of nerves waiting for Ruby to finish getting ready, and I know it’s mostly because I never expected tonight to go the way it did.

  I thought she’d smile—maybe break down into happy tears briefly—and show her gratitude in some sexy way that might lead to other sexy things.

  No way did I think she’d get annoyed.

  Which she did. She all but punched me in the dick when she saw the racks of gorgeous gowns and rows of expensive shoes.

  I mean, what in the hell kind of woman sees a romance novel-caliber gesture and gets mad?

  Ruby, apparently—the woman who keeps proving to be the biggest challenge I’ve ever faced in my life.

  Law school. Passing the bar exam. Judge Hackett’s courtroom. Pfft. They look easy compared to her. Hell, beads of sweat are threatening to form on my forehead as I attempt to wait patiently for her at the bottom of the stairs.

  But she’s been in that room for at least two hours, the last thirty minutes of which I’ve spent waiting, and I don’t know what to expect when she comes out.

  Lasers? Rabid dogs? Attack sharks? Ruby is feisty and her backbone is made of steel, and Lord Almighty, she can be creatively evil when inspired. Qualities which usually turn me the fuck on, but right now, there’s no telling what she’ll sic on me.

  The front door opens behind me, and two of my father’s VPs from HawCom step inside with their wives. I’ve known them for at least fifteen years, so I nod a hello and give both their wives a smile.

  Glen Morris, the younger of the two, looks ready to engage me in a full-blown conversation, so I turn back to the stairs and take out my phone and scroll mindlessly.

  Unfortunately, ole Glen is evidently underdeveloped at reading context clues.

  “Caplin! Nice to see you,” he greets, slapping a beefy hand on my shoulder and spinning me around.

  I tuck my useless phone away and paste a smile on my face. “Ah, Glen. Nice to see you too. How’s your golf game coming? Still shanking every shot with your five iron?”

  His smile turns a little brittle around the edges, just as I was hoping. If I make the conversation go in a direction he doesn’t like, he’s more likely to cut it short.

  He blusters a bit and then fakes a laugh. “You always were a funny one, Cap.”

  I smile shallowly and nod. His wife looks up at me from around his back with a huge grin. I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing.
<
br />   At least someone enjoyed my comment.

  “Right, well, I…” I jerk my head toward the stairs, and Glen nods.

  “Of course, of course. We won’t keep you. See you in there.”

  I nod. “Yep. See you.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief as they step away, down the hall and toward the main party, and I turn back to look up the stairs again with a grin.

  But the air arrests mid-movement, and my chest seizes in toward my heart.

  In fact, I find it so hard to maintain my normal basic human functions, my hand has to go out to the rail to hold me up.

  At the top of the stairs, in a fittingly ruby-red gown, the woman of my dreams looks down at me with big, magically engaging blue eyes and shrugs.

  Ruby.

  Dear God.

  I put the other hand to my chest as a smile lights my face on fire. She is fucking stunning. I can’t help the power of my beam, can’t hold it back. But I’m surprised to find it’s actually just the icebreaker my sometimes companion needs.

  Ruby’s face reciprocates wildly, pulling into the most radiant smile I’ve ever had the pleasure of receiving. I wait patiently as she gathers the silken material of her gown at the front in one hand and grabs for the rail with the other. She watches her feet painstakingly as she moves down the stairs, and I take the opportunity to study every beautiful aspect of her form without restriction.

  The contour of the dress is formfitting and pulls her breasts up and together in a daring display, thanks to the V-shaped neckline. The flattering material hugs the perfectly curved lines of her hips, and it isn’t until the bottom, at about the level of her calves, that the material kicks out in a bell-shaped skirt.