Page 56 of The Billionaire's Cinderella

She looks up from wiping fingerprints off the display case, frowning. “What’s wrong? Did they sell your shoes out from under you?”

“No. I ran into Ryker’s ex-wife.”

Aunt Gilda scowls appropriately. Even the crystals on her collar seem to glint with indignation. “Witch. I hate her already.”

“I know you do,” I say, grinning as I zip into the back, put my things away, wash my hands and return with my apron. Aunt Gilda always makes me laugh. “I appreciate the venom.”

“Anytime. So what happened?”

“She was only too happy to point out that Ryker hasn’t invited me to his company’s big annual ball next week.”

She grimaces. “Yikes.”

“Then she offered to sell me her dress from last year,” I continue. “Oh, and she’ll stop by in a few minutes for herbal tea, she says. I’m sure she just wants to come see me in my humble natural element. Lord it over us in all her designer finery.”

Aunt Gilda looks horrified. “What kind of psychopath comes to a European bakery and orders herbal tea?”

“This one. You’ll see in a minute.”

She nods. “Beautiful?”

“Of course,” I say with a humorless laugh. “What did you expect?”

“She’s jealous. She may not want Ryker back—”

I snort at the unlikely image of some woman not wanting Ryker back, in bed if nothing else.

“—but she doesn’t like seeing him happy with anyone else,” she says darkly. “Mark my words. So she’s stirring the pot.”

“There’d be no pot to stir if Ryker had invited me to this big ball,” I say, getting to the real issue here. “What do you make of that?”

“Ball, schmall,” she says, flapping a hand. “He’ll invite you.”

“But why hasn’t he already, if it’s such a big deal?”

“You’re asking me how men operate? If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because he doesn’t want his feelings hurt. Didn’t you say you turned him down for that cocktail thing back when you first started dating?”

“Yeah,” I say, feeling a twinge around my guilty conscience. “He’s had a couple of other dinners and things since then. I haven’t gone.”

“Well, there you go.”

“Yeah, but what if he just doesn’t want me there this time? What if he’s about to dump me?”

“Yeah,” she says with a dramatic shudder of horror. “And what if I’m about to be abducted by aliens and used in their breeding program?”

“Not helpful,” I say, shooting her a glare as I rub my belly. My shoe-related happiness has been replaced by a niggling sense of dread that has concentrated in my gut. I can’t shake the feeling that my life has been humming along a little too well recently. The universe has no doubt aimed a course correction right at the center of my forehead.

Sure enough, my phone pings from the pocket of my apron. A quick check of the display reveals Bellamy wanting to video chat. Things are still going well between her and Griffin, by the way. I’m betting she got an invite to their stupid ball.

“Hey,” she says. “Just wanted to make sure you’re not too freaked out about the whole Jonas thing.”

I pause, my frazzled brain taking a moment to shift gears to my ex-boyfriend.

“Oh my God,” I say with a gasp. “What Jonas thing? He’s not dead, is he?”

“No, worse. He’s engaged. To his high school girlfriend.”

“Engaged?”

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