Page 12 of His Jewel

No words passed between them. She opened her eyes, and she marked his frown of worry. Worry ... for her?

He seemed to be at war with himself, his jaw twitching, before he lost and pulled her toward him into an embrace. His hand fell on the back of her head, like they had been doing this for years. A sob escaped her, she couldn’t help it, but this felt so good, to be held, to be held by him...

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? So that I can fix it?”

Something like a chuckle escaped her. “Money can’t fix everything.”

She felt him stiffen. “I’m well the fuck aware of that,” he said. “Tell me, what can I do?”

She broke their embrace, stepping back a little. He was asking to help her, and she was tricking him...

She waved a hand. “Just family stuff.” She sniffed, trying to regain some composure. Although she was pretty sure she had left a snot trail on his workout clothes. Wonderful. Could this day get any worse?

“Ruby,” he began, but she didn’t let him finish his thought.

“Have a good rest of your weekend. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His brow furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

Her heart raced against her ribcage. She dove into her bag and brandished her notebook. “Forgot this.”

He chuckled. “Can’t have that. You’re always scribbling in that thing.”

Her heart lurched. He’d been watching her. He knew her.

Time to go.

“Yes, that would be a tragedy,” she threw over her shoulder, practically diving into the elevator like it was a life raft and she was drowning.

****

She sat at a tablein Club Billionaire, one tucked away deep in the corner, away from prying eyes. She drained the last of her drink, staining her straw red. She couldn’t help but think that she had blood on her hands. She was a traitor, not only to Josh, but to Alana, who was roughly an hour late. She sighed and adjusted her red mini dress. She’d decided to dress up. After all, what else did she have to do? Sure, the club had a dress code, but Alana wouldn’t have cared if she turned up in a t-shirt and ripped jeans. Not if you were her friend. She would do anything for you...

That thought had her shaking her head, like she was trying to shake all thoughts of betrayal from her mind.

The server approached her. “Another, madam?”

She smiled. “Yes, please.”

She should take it easy. This was going to be her fourth, after all.

She gazed around the room from her vantage point. The club took her breath away every time she came here. It was so sophisticated—she loved all of the gold finishings. It made the restaurant and bar positively glow.

“Hi!” Alana breezed up to her. “Sorry I’m so late.” She had her hair piled atop her head in a bun, and wore a black dress, floor length and tight. Seriously, she could be a model.

They embraced. “It really is a skill, you know, to be late to meet someone in your own club,” she joked.

Alana grinned. “Well, it seems you’ve used my lateness to your advantage.”

With comedy level timing, the server brought back her cocktail.

“Want to take it to my office? We can chat properly in there.”

“Sure,” she agreed, picking up her drink and clutch bag.

As they made their way through the club, she could feel eyes on them. She recognized a lot of the club members, she’d even been introduced to a few. They were nice, regular guys (besides being billionaires) who seemed to enjoy being in a place where no one was chasing them around.

They were nearly at Alana’s office, they just had to walk through the final portion of the restaurant area. This was a classy place, so she tried not to wobble on her tipsy legs and high heels. A dangerous combination if ever there was one.

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