The Billionaire Book Club

They’re all beautiful—as in, beautiful—and they’re all so happy. They’re laughing and giggling among themselves and discussing their men.

“I know. A fluffing book club, of all things. I swear to God, if I weren’t so amused by it, I’d punch Thatch in the dick.”

“I was starting to think maybe Wes was keeping something from me, but he never actually seemed excited about going. I figured if it were an affair, he’d be excited,” a classy blonde says to the group, and the rest of them laugh.

“I noticed Milo was asking me a lot of questions about ‘women’ and the way they think, but whenever I called him out on it, he just said it was research.”

The whole group dissolves into a fit of laughter as the elevator dings its arrival. I feel a little weird climbing inside the cart with them, but there’s a space right in the center, and it seems a little bitchy to wait just because.

I step inside after them and turn to the front, and their laughter quiets immediately. It’s awkward as hell as we all ride upward, so I don’t even notice until we make it to the top that we’re all going to the roof. When they step off behind me and start whispering, I begin to feel really self-conscious.

I try to make my way through them, back toward the elevator, but no matter where I try to go, one of them is blocking me.

“Sorry,” I say. “I think I’m in the wrong place.”

A woman with kind blue eyes and strawberry-blond hair steps forward and puts a supportive hand to my shoulder. It’s a startling movement, but she looks so friendly, I don’t immediately karate chop her in the ribs.

“Um,” I mumble, but she shakes her head to interrupt me.

“You’re in the right place, Ruby.”

I jerk my head and widen my eyes. “Uh…how do you know my name?”

“I’m Georgie. Kline Brooks’s wife.”

What in the hell does Kline Brooks have to do with this?

My heart thunders in my chest as the rest of the women behind her nod.

What is happening right now?

“Okayyy.”

“You’re gonna wanna run. We get that,” she says with sympathetic eyes. “But we’re here to make sure you don’t.”

“What are you talking about? And how do you all know me?”

Instead of explaining, Georgie nods to the space behind me. “Honey, turn around.”

When I don’t do it immediately on my own, she uses a gentle hand to spin me.

A full wall of glass doors is open completely to the patio outside, and lights line the entire perimeter of the roof. Seriously awesome, inexplicably twinkling balloons make a path down the center, and rose petals line the ground in between them.

I swallow thickly and glance back to the bizarre women who’ve strangely become my support system, and they all nod. “Go on,” Georgie prompts.

I consider how much force it’d take to knock her over and make a run for it, but the statistics are against me.

She’s tiny like me, and I’d make it through her no problem, but the rest of the group would present a challenge. There are just too many of them. Plus, the tall, gorgeous brunette who was talking about punching dicks looks like she could put up one hell of a fight.

Gingerly, fearfully, I take the steps out onto the patio and straight into the path to Cinderella’s castle.

I’m missing the pumpkin carriage, but I fully expect my black cocktail dress to transform into a ball gown by the time I make it to the end.

I step carefully along the petals, my heart hammering so hard, it’s climbed into my throat. I don’t know what to expect at the end, but when the fanfare, lights, and balloons clear to reveal Cap standing there, I seriously turn around to run.

But Kevin is right behind me, the huge, betraying bastard.

“This isn’t a prewedding party at all, is it?” I yell in his face.

He winces, but everything else about his large frame is horrendously tender.

“Just hear him out, Gem.”

“No!” I yell, and the girls from the elevator peek their heads in at the end of the path behind him. “No,” I cry, my throat closing in on itself as my nose starts to burn.

My throat sounds scratchy as I whisper, “I don’t…I can’t, Kevin. I…I won’t survive it.”

“Ruby,” he murmurs softly.

“I’m barely holding it together, Kev,” I admit for the first time since I left Cap standing on that sidewalk in front of my apartment. “I’m not strong and I’m not okay and I can’t do this.”

A hand settles gently onto my shoulder from behind me, and I don’t even have to look to know whose it is.

I turn quickly and jerk, making it fall off immediately.

Cap lifts his hands in a gesture of harmlessness.

“I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, and he smiles sadly.

“Ruby, I’m sorry for everything. And I know that might mean nothing to you. That you might hate me for the rest of your life. If that’s the case, I’ll find a way to deal with it—but not without trying to make it right. Not without showing you something first.”