The Billionaire Book Club

My eyebrows rise with the possibilities of several inappropriate jokes, but thankfully, I’m smart enough to think better of it.

Instead, I go for the most direct answer I can think of. “He’s my boss.”

“Ruby!” Cap yells loudly again. “Who’s with you? You have some sort of girl-on-girl thing going?”

My cheeks bloom into a cloud of rosiness, and I clench my fists beside me.

I shake my head and then butt my mom out of the way so I can rush back inside. There’s no way I’m going to stand at my window and yell back and forth with him, especially if he’s going to be so….so…him.

I grab my phone off the coffee table, and my dad startles inside the bathroom like I’ve just knocked on his stall door in a public restroom. “Someone’s in here!” he shouts.

“I know, Dad. I’m not even near the bathroom.”

I scroll through my recent calls quickly to Cap’s contact info and put the phone to my ear while it rings.

“Why the hell are you calling me?” he answers.

“So you don’t wake up my whole freaking neighborhood with comments about me having sex with a woman! Who is my mother, by the way.”

He groans a little, and the sound is highly erotic. “Ah, man. You ruined it. And my imagination was doing such a good job, too.”

“Why are you here?” I ask, cutting to the chase. “I know I may give the impression of a sweet girl, but it’s freaking six a.m. on a Saturday, and I haven’t had time to put makeup over the dragon yet.”

“I told you at the window. Pack a bag, we’re going to the lake.”

“Um, no. My parents are here. Surprise drop-in last night. So, you can go to the lake and have fun, but I have to pass. I’m a little busy enjoying my last meal and entertaining the parental units in a way-too-confined space.”

“Well…that does change things a little…but why don’t you bring them?”

“What?” I almost shriek. “No. No. I am not bringing my parents on some random trip to the lake with you.”

The pipes in my bathroom shriek as the bathroom toilet flushes, and when the sink is turned on, those fucking pipes groan, add more shrieks, and make a fucking remix.

“Jesus,” my dad mutters from behind the shower curtain.

Holy Stephen King novels and horror flicks. They’ve been here not even three hours, and my nerves are already shot to shit.

Hand to my face, I turn into a real-life version of the facepalm emoji.

“Come on, Ruby,” Cap says into my ear, his voice cajoling. “My cabin has seven bedrooms. It’ll be fine.”

“I don’t care if your cabin has seven bedrooms, Cap!”

My dad pops out from behind the curtain unceremoniously, and I jump as he reaches out and takes the phone from my ear.

“Seven bedrooms, you say?” He pauses with my phone now pressed to his ear. “Yep, yep. How many baths?”

“Dad!” I hiss, trying unsuccessfully to grab the phone. He holds a stiff arm on my forehead so all my arms can do is pinwheel.

“Fantastic. I assume they all have doors?” He chuckles then. “Great. Give us ten. We’ll all be down,” he says insanely and then hangs. Up. The. Phone.

“Dad!”

“I’m a grown man, Ruby. I’m not going to spend the next three days shitting in a photo booth. We’re going to the damn lake with your boss. Pack a bag and get your ass in gear.” He looks from me to my mom and adds, “You too, Connie.”

After years of living with Mark and Connie Rockford, I know I have no hope of changing the outcome. All I can do here is pack a bag, say a prayer, and hope that a weekend away with Caplin Hawkins and my parents doesn’t actually kill me.

We’ve been on the road to Cap’s cabin in Upstate New York for an hour and a half when my face starts to go numb.

All the back-and-forth between blushing in embarrassment and cringing in horror has used facial muscles I didn’t even know I had.

My mom has asked one million questions worthy of a background check—all of which Cap has answered with surprising patience—and my dad has grumbled a million and one times in the background about anything and everything he can think of. Potholes, crazy drivers, tollbooths, you name it, and Mark has an opinion.

When we pull into a gas station and Cap climbs out of the driver seat, I actually consider begging him to leave me here to hitchhike home. He sets the gas to pump and then rounds the hood to head inside the store.

My dad rolls down his window, and I do the same, fearful of what might transpire if I don’t at least monitor their communication.

Cap notices the motion and turns back to the car. I actually start to feel light-headed from how fucking handsome he is. “Can I get you anything inside, Mr. Rockford?”