Page 108 of How to Blow It with a Billionaire

But then I caught sight of Ellery crossing the room toward us. She was still in the dress, barefoot, and without the violin. So I had to let go of Caspian in order to give her a birthday hug.

Despite the supermodel sweep of the gown, she was still very much herself underneath it, sharp and fragile and Ellery, all jutting bones and elbows. So holding her felt a bit like wrangling a feral coat hanger.

I’d expected a brief, public occasion salute and she didn’t exactly come across as the cuddly sort, so I was surprised by how tightly she squeezed me back, pushing her sweat-damp face kittenishly against my neck hard enough to leave me with a lipstick mark.

When we parted, Caspian stepped forward with a touch of awkwardness and murmured, “Happy birthday…Ellery.”

She stared at him, her eyes—oddly naked without the heavy liner I was used to—bright and startled. Perilously close to pleased. Then she shrugged. “Whatever.”

He didn’t quite flinch but he got that look: the closed down, I am a million miles away from you look I knew all too well. “I’ll leave you to enjoy it.”

And, with that, he…went away.

Again.

I bit down on a gah of frustration. I wanted to kick him in the shins. You couldn’t just fix what was probably years of hurt and misunderstanding with a single, and very small, gesture.

Also the fucker had barely spent five minutes with me.

But I pushed all that aside. And turned my very best and sparkliest smile on Ellery. “So what happens next? Do we all die of the plague?”

She sneered at the room. “Mm, here’s hoping.”

“Wow, that’s the last time I RSVP to an invitation from you.”

“I don’t mean it.” She sighed and with the air of a small child being forced to eat Brussels sprouts added, “Thank you for coming.”

“I didn’t know you played the violin.”

She shrugged. “I’m brilliant. When I’m not rusty.”

“Well, if that’s how you play when you’re rusty.”

“Not exactly.” She looked briefly uncomfortable. “I had to practice the shit out of that thing. Worth it though. Did you see their faces?”

I hadn’t, as it had happened. I’d been too absorbed by the music and then by Caspian. “I think everyone was really impressed.”

“They were freaking out. I’m this total fuck up, remember? But now nobody knows what to think.”

“Are you seriously telling me that you spent weeks—”

“Months.”

“—months practicing a violin solo just to annoy people?”

“Yep.” The corners of her mouth curled upward. “And it was awesome.”

I suspected at least some of this was simply bravado. But it was her birthday and you let people get away with things on their birthdays, so I laughed. “I can’t wait to see what you do next year.”

“Oh there’s nowhere to go from Sibelius. I’ll have to auto-erotically asphyxiate or something.”

“I think that’s only for creepy politicians.”

She thought about it for a moment. “The auto part sounds especially pathetic.” Then she heaved another sigh. “You know, I don’t actually hate absolutely everyone here. I should probably go and say hello and shit.”

“Good plan.”

“It’ll suck, but you can come if you like.”

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