The Billionaire Book Club

But, with Hell-ary heading my way, I don’t have time to set my lazy, on-maternity-leave-for-what-feels-like-for-fucking-ever assistant straight.

Me: Whatever. Go hang out with your baby. I bet he doesn’t even say anything interesting.

Liz: Don’t mind if I do. Don’t bother me again until January.

I’m tempted to type another pointless message back, but when I hear noise outside my office, I’m reminded of what I need to do right the fuck now.

Oh, Hell-ary no.

I don’t hesitate to storm out of my office in a rush, the words already on my lips.

“You’re fired!” I say, just as Ruby looks up from the assistant desk and scowls.

“Well, that didn’t last long.”

Despite the tense situation I’ve just created with my big fat mouth, I can’t stop my eyes from flitting between her very perky tits that are hidden beneath a soft pink sweater and her gorgeous face and the fact that Ruby is running on zero sleep and could literally be the next model for Cover Girl.

Fuck, she’s beautiful.

“I guess I’ll not unpack my stuff and head home.”

Her words snap me back to reality. Shit.

“Wait…what? No, Jesus. I thought you were someone else. You weren’t supposed to be here until ten thirty.”

“I got done recording early. I thought you’d want me to come in,” she remarks. “I’ll just go.”

“No, no!” I cry, reaching out and grabbing her by the elbow. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Well, that’s great. Already mistaking me for other women.”

“No,” I say again, trying desperately to climb out of this hole. The next time I see Liz, I’m confiscating her damn shovel. “Hillary, a temp who’s been working here the last few days, was on her way in. I just assumed that whoever was out here was her.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Young? Stilettos? Shiny, red lips? Miniskirt?”

I nod.

“She got off the elevator, saw me at the desk, and then turned around and left.”

“She didn’t say anything? Ask you anything?”

“Nope.”

“Wow.” I laugh more to myself than to her. “Okay. Well, firing her turned out to be easier than I thought.”

Ruby rolls her eyes.

“I wasn’t trying to fire you,” I say again. “I swear. And it’s great that you came in early. We’re swamped, and you have to get the lay of the land.”

“Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“Right now?” I wince. “Well…I really need some coffee.”

She nods. “Then I’ll get you coffee.”

I feel my eyebrows reach my forehead. “Really?”

“I’m working for you, Caplin. Not dating you.”

“In that case, you should know…”

“Yeah?”

“Everyone calls me Cap. The only person who still uses Caplin is my mother, and she’s…well, she’s something else.”

“Okay, Cap,” she says, rolling my name around on her tongue. Instantly, I fixate on the way her pretty, pink mouth moves, and I can’t help but imagine her rolling something else around on that tongue of hers.

She raises her eyebrows when I stare at her a little too long.

“So…where’s the kitchen?”

I nod toward the opposite direction of her desk. “Down the hall and to the left.”

She turns on her heel to head there, but when I clear my throat, she turns back. “What now, Cap?”

That spark of feistiness makes me grin. “The kitchen is there, but it doesn’t have any coffee. I ran out.”

The radius of her eyes lessens. “So…”

“So, you either have to go to the store or a coffee shop, but I suggest the store. I go through about twenty pots a day.”

She purses her lips. “Right.”

“You can have some for yourself too.”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“That’s weird, but okay.” I shrug and slide my hands into the pockets of my slacks. “Obviously, I’m not here to judge. Get yourself some hot chocolate, then.”

I dig in my right pocket for some money and reach out to tuck it into her hand. “And grab anything else you want to have around here. We get busy.” I shrug. “It’s always good to have anything you might want on hand.”

She smirks, a hand settling onto her hip, and from what little I know about her, I expect the result of such a pose will be interesting.

“I’d love to have a million dollars around here,” she remarks, proving me right. Ruby Rockford is one hell of an interesting woman.

What she doesn’t understand yet, though, is that I’m an equally interesting man.

“National Savings Bank on the corner of Wall Street and Broadway. Account number 5673908. They can call me for approval.”

She widens her eyes briefly before narrowing them dramatically as she shakes her head and turns for the elevator. She only makes one comment, and it’s in the form of a single word tossed over her shoulder. “Funny.”

“Funny, all right,” I mumble softly to myself as the doors close across her beautiful face.

I gave her the real account number.

Ruby

Two hours into working for Caplin Hawkins—or Cap, as he prefers to be called—and I’ve experienced the following: an accidental firing, an apology for the accidental firing, and somehow, within an hour of starting my new job, I got roped into a trip to the store to buy him coffee and snacks.