me, and I’ll know it when I find him.
I bite my lip as visions of a lonely life of spinsterhood dance in my head. I’ll know when I find him. I’ll have to. Won’t I?
Cap
I head into Thatch’s Manhattan apartment with the kind of focus and concentration I usually only reserve for the courtroom.
Another Billionaire Book Club meeting with the guys, and goddamn, I need to leave here with something that will actually lead me in the direction of progress with Ruby.
It’s been four days since I apologized to her using the three steps I was assured were effective, and I’ve yet to see any tangible results.
In the office, she’s been cordial and efficient while she works, but she doesn’t compliment my wit and charm and reach out to touch me inconspicuously nearly enough.
It’s almost as though she’s impervious to me.
No, no, I think after a moment of panic. That can’t be it. All women eventually cave to the Cap-i-tain.
Thatch sweeps by me on his way out of the smoke room while I’m on my way in, and I look back over my shoulder to call out to him. “Hey! Where are you going?”
“Just getting the snacks, bro. Don’t worry, you won’t have to miss me long.”
I laugh him off and turn back to the room to find the table almost ready. I stop behind what’s become my regular seat and pull the new book out of my jacket before taking it off and draping it across the back of the chair. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me as I sit down. “You all got the new book I texted you about?”
Mostly “Yes” and “Yeah” are grumbled into the air, but Wes chimes in with, “How long are we going to do this?”
I roll my eyes at their lack of enthusiasm. At some point, they’re going to get with the fucking program. It’s like none of them has ever done crazy shit to win a woman before.
“She reads fast, and she’s moved on, okay?” I explain as Thatch walks in with a tray full of mini hot dogs, warm pretzels, and assorted charcuterie. It’s like Martha Stewart in a giant man’s body. I’d love to pause long enough to make a comment about it, but the pretzel’s salty magic tastes too good in my mouth. The other guys fall on it like vultures too. As Thatch takes his seat at the table, I finish speaking. “I’m not going to waste my time on some bullshit book she doesn’t care about anymore. We need to stay relevant, for fuck’s sake, so quit your whining,” I lecture, scanning their faces around the felt-topped table.
When one spot comes up empty, I frown. “Where the hell is Quince?”
Trent sighs. “He had to stay with Hudson. Emory had plans.”
“That’s unacceptable.”
Trent laughs. “Too bad, Romeo. We can’t all just be at your beck and call all the time.”
“Sure, you fucking can. Get him on the horn. Tell him to strap that little beauty in a carrier or some shit and get his ass over here.”
“He’s not going to come over here with the baby,” Milo reasons. “Emory barely even takes her out.”
“You call him,” I say to Trent, putting a mock phone to my ear. “Or this whole operation is coming to his house. He’s got a choice, but he better make it quickly.”
“Why the fluff do you need Quince so bad?” Thatch asks. “You’ve got the rest of us.”
“And the snacks are here,” Wes remarks, dipping his pig in a blanket into the tiny decorative bowl of mustard. “And, I can’t deny, these are about the only fucking reason I keep showing up.”
Thatch grins like a goddamn old lady at a bake sale. “Glad you’re enjoying them, Whitney. I added a touch of honey to the mustard to give it a little zing.”
“Jesus, Betty Crocker, can we fucking focus on the important shit?” I grumble. “I need Quince because he’s like the little puppy in the pet store window women can’t help but love. He’s got his expertise ingrained, and I need a little bit of his innocence. That’s fucking why.”
“Is it just me, or does anyone else think this book club has gotten a little intense?” Harrison asks.
“Don’t speak, sister-chaser!”
He laughs and puts up his hands. “I didn’t even say anything about your sister!”
“But you will. I know it. And I don’t have any patience for it right now.”
Trent pulls the phone away from his ear and shrugs. “He didn’t answer.”
“He’s probably putting