The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride

If he cared about me at all, he could spare that much time for me.

But guess it’s too much to ask. He spent more time having sex with me than showing up for this party and wishing me a happy birthday.

I jab the fork into my piece of cake and hurl it at the car. It explodes against the windshield, yellow sponge cake and pink frosting splattering like brain matter.

A collective gasp goes up around me. And the festive energy in the air that surrounded us dies an abrupt death.

I turn around deliberately and smile even though I feel like crying. I’m not wasting my tears on Declan. If I’m not worth less than one percent of his year, he’s not worth even a drop of my tears.

Besides, I still have my friends. They’re all looking at me with their eyes wide with uncertainty and sympathy. They put in a lot of work to make this day special. So I’m going to put on a happy face and have a good time.

“Sorry, Bobbi. Your cake deserved better treatment.” My voice is surprisingly steady and calm. Score one for me!

“Well…there’s a lot more,” she says, patting my back awkwardly. “And my cake is guaranteed to come off in a car wash.”

“Let’s go inside.” I start walking back to the mansion. “I want to dance, don’t you?”

Chapter Forty-Nine

Declan

It’s after eight thirty by the time I’m able to get away. A short meeting, my ass! To make things worse, I could only text Yuna once because my damned phone battery died. Fuck!

The whole thing was a clusterfuck. Josh wanted to brag about what an amazing human being and director he is. He only had one drink at the bar. It’s amazing how a man can heap praise on himself, like it’s a church sermon. I felt like he wanted me to say amen and offer a tithe.

After spending half an hour on that, Josh finally started to talk about the project. He said when he saw me in Pushing His Buttons, he knew I had to play the lead. Tim said I have other possible projects—probably to raise my value in Josh’s eyes. Josh regarded me seriously for a moment, then said nonsense because his is more important.

I knew Josh Fields had an ego, but I didn’t know just how big it was until today.

As the talk was winding down—Josh finally having run out of good things to say about himself—Melvin saw us and the meeting turned into a shit show. Apparently he and Josh don’t get along because Josh stole Melvin’s talent some time back.

Josh said it wasn’t his fault Melvin’s an autocratic asshole with the talent.

Melvin said Josh is a bottom-feeding scumbag, then added that he wanted me in his spy flick and demanded a firm commitment.

Pissed that Melvin was “poaching his talent,” Josh issued the same ridiculous ultimatum.

Tim jumped to mediate, which went about as well as trying to teach the concept of sharing to a couple of hungry puppies fighting over a bone.

And I couldn’t leave with Melvin and Josh each grabbing one of my arms and arguing with each other and telling me what to expect if I work with them.

They only stopped when Tim said we can make a decision after we talk contracts and money. Josh and Melvin both said they’d send contracts on Monday.

My head hurts, but thinking about Yuna makes the throbbing recede. Hopefully, the party’s still going on. Or at least Yuna’s still there. I want to tell her how sorry I am. Hopefully my present made her feel better.

After sticking my uselessly dead phone into the charger, I speed through traffic and reach the Blackwoods’ home in under thirty minutes. I use the guest code Tony gave me for the gates and park in front of the mansion. No pink Rolls. Did someone move it to the garage?

Or maybe Yuna took it out for a quick drive. Who wouldn’t, if they got a car that sweet?

I climb out of my Lamborghini and go to the door. Many of the windows are dark, but the party’s happening in the piano room, like Ivy said. The door’s locked. I ring and wait, trying not to pace to burn off the nervous energy.

After a moment, the door opens and Ivy and Tony appear on the other side.

“What are you doing here? The party started over three hours ago,” Tony says stiffly.

Ivy is glaring at me like I’m some sort of human cockroach. “And now it’s over. It’s been over for an hour.”

Damn it. I bite back a curse. I fucked up bad. “I’m so sorry. I got caught in a meeting. It wasn’t supposed to go that long, but things went out of control.”