Chapter 10 Ruby
Ruby
I’ve opened my wardrobe, and it’s betrayed me.
Everything inside is either too casual, too slutty, too “I have emotional issues, and the dress reflects that,” and too “take me now on the nearest counter top.”
I flop onto my bed dramatically, staring at the ceiling like life has personally wronged me.
“I’m not going,” I tell the room. The room does not believe me.
My phone buzzes.
Ava:
Bathroom.
Now.
Outfit crisis meeting.
We're already here.
I groan. Loudly. Then grab three random outfits and stomp toward the bathroom like a toddler in crisis.
The second I push the door open, the Nasty Nine freeze mid-argument.
Ava has a lip gloss in one hand and a curling wand in the other, like she’s about to perform delicate surgery. Sienna is holding up a black dress like it’s the Holy Grail. Trey is holding a tape measure for absolutely no reason.
They all look at me like I’ve delivered myself to the altar.
“Oh, thank God,” Ava says. “Show us the outfits before you embarrass yourself.”
“I’m not going!” I announce, throwing the clothes on the counter.
All three of them BURST into laughter.
Sienna wipes a tear. “She’s adorable when she lies.”
Trey pats my shoulder. “We love a delusional queen.”
I scowl and hold up Outfit #1:
A beige blouse and a pencil skirt.
Ava recoils. “What is THIS funeral-core nonsense?”
“It’s professional!”
“It’s giving divorced librarian,” Trey says.
“It’s giving dry crackers in a Tupperware,” Sienna adds.
I toss it aside and hold up Outfit #2:
A short black dress that could cause sin in eight different countries.
Sienna gasps. “YES.”
“ABSOLUTELY NOT,” I snap, throwing it back into the pile. “I’m not showing up looking like a walking thirst trap.”
“You ARE a walking thirst trap,” Ava says. “The dress just acknowledges it.”
“No.”
“Babe, your billionaire is not taking you to Olive Garden,” Trey says. “He’s taking you somewhere with dim lighting and emotional consequences. You need to dress accordingly.”
I groan again and hold up Outfit #3:
A simple, fitted dark red sweater dress.
Ava’s eyes widen. “Ooooh.”
Sienna clasps her hands. “This is the one.”
Trey nods with approval. “It says ‘I’m not trying’ while absolutely trying.”
I frown at my reflection. “Isn’t it too much?”
“Too much WHAT?” Ava demands. “Too much ‘pretty’? Too much ‘my billionaire won’t know what to do with himself’? Too much ‘please take me against the nearest marble surface’?”
“TONE IT DOWN!” I hiss.
Sienna steps behind me, adjusting the dress on my hips. “It hugs perfectly. It’s soft but sexy. It says, ‘I’m not easy, but God I am worth the effort.’”
“That is not what this dress says..."
“It’s EXACTLY what it says,” Trey insists.
Ava leans in. “Turn around.”
I turn.
All three gasp dramatically.
Ava says, “The back. The BACK. Ruby.”
Sienna looks shocked. “This is the outfit women wear when they accidentally gain a billionaire boyfriend.”
Trey fans himself. “He’s going to combust.”
I throw my arms up. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH ALL OF YOU?”
“You’re going to dinner,” Ava says.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I AM NOT.”
“You,” Sienna says as she adds mascara to my lashes, “are wearing this dress. You are showing up. And you are going to eat. Food. And probably his mouth after.”
“STOP.”
Ava grabs the lipstick. The same one from the night before. The survivor shade.
She unscrews it with a flourish. “You know what this is?”
I narrow my eyes. “A weapon?”
“A prophecy,” Trey whispers reverently.
I snatch it from her. “I’m putting it on because I like it. Not because I’m going.”
Three simultaneous snorts.
As I apply it, Ava crosses her arms. “Okay, final touches: hair soft, not too curled, not too straight, effortless hottie vibe. Perfume that suggests you shower. Jewelry minimal. Bra optional.”
“No bra,” Sienna says. “The dress doesn’t need it.”
“No bra,” Trey confirms. “The billionaire absolutely doesn’t need it.”
“You three are demons.”
Ava smirks. “Sexy demons.”
I throw the lip gloss into my bag and step back from the mirror.
And… okay. Okay, fine.
I look good.
Really good.
Which is unfair because I am not going.
My phone buzzes.
Unknown Number:
7 pm.
La Maison.
I’ll see you there.
J
My stomach hits the floor.
“He texted,” I whisper.
Ava squeals. Sienna claps. Trey shouts, “HE FOUND YOUR NUMBER THROUGH CORPORATE, DIDN’T HE?? KING BEHAVIOR.”
I stare at the screen.
I am not going.
I am absolutely going.
I am so completely, stupidly, horribly done.