Page 45 of The Billionaire's Cinderella

Provided he doesn’t screw it up, that is.

“I’ve decided I don’t hate you,” I tell him. “You may have a petit four.”

“Thanks,” he says, looking relieved. “I take that as a ringing endorsement. By the way, you know who else is doing a lot of smiling these days?”

A sudden wild swoop of excitement makes me fidgety. “I can’t imagine,” I say, working on my politely curious expression as I smooth my hair.

“My brother,” he says. Call me crazy, but he seems to enjoy climbing out of the hot seat and putting me squarely on his vacated spot. So I should probably slot him back into the jackass category. “My brother Ryker. In case there’s any confusion.”

This information thrills me beyond all reason. Since my acting skills are sketchy at best, I decide the thing for me to do is get myself out of here before I begin simpering like an idiot and totally give myself away.

Am I crazy about Ryker? Yes. But the whole world doesn’t need to know that.

“My goodness, would you look at the time,” I say, pretending I have a watch as I glance at my bare wrist. “Why didn’t you tell me it was so late, Bellamy? Now I’m going to have to dash off without finishing this important conversation.”

We all laugh. Then I focus on Bellamy.

“More to him, eh?” I ask in a stage whisper.

“More to him,” she says with a pretty blush.

“More to who?” he asks.

“No one you know,” Bellamy and I say together.

We’re still laughing as I head toward the door.

“I really should go. I’ve got another batch of petit fours in the oven. Great seeing you, Griffin.”

To my immense pleasure, he looks disappointed. I send him right back into the nice guy category.

“Stick around. I was just about to take Bellamy to dinner. Why don’t you come?”

I exchange a discreet glance with Bellamy. Maybe this is all an act for her benefit, but I think we’re both startled and touched by Griffin’s gesture.

“Thanks. Another time,” I tell him. “You kids have fun.”

“I’ll text you later,” she says as I leave.

My phone pings on the coffee table just as I let myself back into my apartment. My smile is already firmly in place as I pick it up and check the display:

Your place or mine tonight, sunshine?

He punctuates the question with a string of emojis that tug on my heartstrings:

A sun. Prayer hands. A red heart. A blown kiss.

And I can’t help but think about what a hypocrite I am for lecturing Bellamy about keeping her head on straight when it comes to the brothers Black when I can’t even follow my own damn advice.

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