Claiming His Nine-Month Consequence

“You want me to attend a big society event?” Ruby now looked horrified. “And it’s hosted by your ex?”

“Is that a problem?” he said coolly, as if she were being unreasonable to object.

“Yes!”

“I know these kind of events can be tedious…”

“Tedious isn’t exactly the word I’m thinking!”

“But I thought, if I took you out shopping for a designer ball gown and extravagant—truly extravagant—jewels, it might take out the sting.”

She set her jaw. “So you’re trying to bribe me?”

“If you want to call it that. I could have already arranged for the ball gown, but I thought you might enjoy picking it out.”

Ruby folded her arms. “I don’t need a fancy ball gown. Or jewels.”

He blinked. “You don’t want jewels?”

“I’d feel embarrassed wearing something so expensive when the fake diamonds look just as good. Especially when so many people are in need…”

“It’s a charity ball for children,” he interrupted. “All the proceeds go to them.”

Ruby looked a little discomfited. “Which charity?”

He wished he’d listened when Dorothy had tried to tell him. “A good one.”

She waited.

“It…um…helps kids in need,” he finished, then demanded arrogantly, “You wouldn’t turn your back on those kids, would you?”

She bit her lip. “I guess not. But I don’t need an expensive ball gown,” she added quickly. “That would be such a waste of money. Please donate the amount you would have spent on it directly to the charity.”

Ares felt at a loss.

“Then, what will you wear tomorrow?” he said acidly. “Do you plan to attend naked?”

“Darn. I guess I can’t go,” Ruby said, looking sorrowful in a way that he didn’t believe for a second. She brightened. “But at least I still helped the kids with the ball gown money. So it’s kind of a wash, don’t you think?”

Ares had no intention of going to the gala alone. He knew the glamour and romance of the evening would be too overwhelming for any woman to resist, even Ruby.

He pulled out his phone. “I have a better idea.”

Twenty minutes later, the sedan was pulling into a little street in the Meatpacking District, not too far from the High Line.

“Where are we going?” Ruby asked for the third time.

And for the third time, Ares replied smugly, “It’s a surprise.”

She sighed.

“I hate surprises,” she grumbled.

“Why?”

“They’re never things like chocolate cake or winning lottery tickets, in my experience. It’s always stuff like unexpected bills, or your car breaks down, or you slip on ice and break your ankle. Surprises are the worst.”

He gave her a mischievous grin. “Wait and see.”

The sedan stopped, and Horace opened their door. They were outside an enormous, old-looking warehouse. The concrete walls were covered with the peeling paint of old advertisements that looked decades old.

Ruby tilted back her head. Her voice sounded breathless as she said, “What is this place?”

Ares just hoped this would work. Taking her hand, he led her through the door.

Inside, the warehouse was huge, with high ceilings, filled with light and color, and with racks and racks of vintage clothes from every decade. Ruby gasped, craning her neck to look in every direction, at all the interesting clothes, and the even more interesting people shopping there.

Funky music played over the speakers. They were greeted by a smiling fortysomething woman with fuchsia hair. “Welcome.” Her eyes popped behind her horn-rimmed glasses. “Excuse me, but are you…Ares Kourakis?”

“I am.” He looked around. “And this is the best vintage clothing shop in Manhattan?”

The woman nearly dropped the plate of pink cupcakes she was holding. “Yes! At least I think it is.”

“The internet agrees with you. That’s why we’re here.” He looked over at Ruby. “My…friend needs a ball gown. And a whole new wardrobe, in fact.”

“I’ll help her myself,” the pink-haired woman said eagerly. “But first… Won’t you have one?” She held the tray out to Ruby.