Page 39 of If the Ring Fits

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Why? Isn’t it best to stick to the truth as much as?—”

“Rowena,” I cut her off, intensity burning through my words. “If some asshole middle manager at a fintech start-up fired my girlfriend foranyreason, I would buy the whole damn company and clean house. Every last one of their management team would be out on the street faster than they could blink.”

She stares at me, her mouth hanging open. I soften my expression, clenching and unclenching my hands to come off less aggressive.

“Unless… that’s what you want me to do?” I raise an eyebrow. “Say the word and I’ll have my assistant making calls tonight.”

Rowena lets out a laugh, shaking her head. “No, no, that won’t be necessary. Your world domination plans can wait.” She chews her bottom lip, contemplating. “Maybe we could just say I quit, then? Because of the pregnancy being too much to handle with work?”

I mull it over. It’s not the full truth, but it’s close enough without revealing the ugly reality of what those pricks did to her.

“Alright, it’s settled then,” I declare. “If anyone asks, you decided to focus on your health and our family. No mention of those ungrateful bastards who didn’t deserve you.” I drop myhands on my thighs. “We’re good then… that was all for tonight.”

Rowena shakes her head and leans in just a fraction. “Not so fast, tiger, we have to come up with a great proposal story first…”

She’s right.

“Any ideas?”

“Nope.” She cracks her knuckles. “Time to get your romantic mojo on.”

I’m fucked.

16

ROWENA

Friday afternoon my phone buzzes with a new text.

Adrian

Waiting for you downstairs. Ready to hit the road?

The simple message makes me almost lightheaded. I’m about to spend the weekend with Adrian’s boss and colleagues at some swanky estate in the Hamptons while growing a human inside of me and with a million lies to remember. I hope I won’t make a total fool of myself.

I dry my sweaty palms on the skirt of my dress before typing a quick, coming down, reply. Adrian told me to just be myself and pack whatever I’m comfortable in—no fancy clothes required. I’ve settled on a breezy yellow sundress and flat strappy sandals—casual but cute. The skirt swishes around my knees as I grab my weekender bag and head out of Adrian’s lavish penthouse to the elevator.

Downstairs, as I step out into the bright afternoon sun, I scan the busy Manhattan street. I expect to find Sam leaningagainst a sleek black town car, ready to whisk us away to high society for the weekend. But the sight before me stops me dead in my tracks.

There’s no sign of Sam. Instead, Adrian leans casually against the hood of a low-slung, midnight black Ferrari, his dark eyes burning into me over the rims of his sunglasses. He’s still in one of his power suits from the office, all sharp lines and confident authority.

Combined with the dangerously exotic car, he looks like a black panther poised to pounce.

Predatory. Primal.

Breathtaking.

He lowers the sunglasses completely and his piercing gaze rakes over me, leaving tingles in its wake.

But the little jolts of electricity surging through me are nothing compared to the impact of Adrian’s smile when it breaks free. It’s a rare sight, like the sun bursting through storm clouds and creating a rainbow, the brilliance exploding in my belly like confetti. He pushes off from the car with feline grace and strolls over to me, his stride as self-assured as ever. “You look great.”

Hearing his gruff voice redoubles the confetti explosions.

I blush but manage a shaky laugh. “Thanks. You look… like you’re about to steal an art masterpiece and then go play a high-stakes game of poker in a casino in Venice.” I wave vaguely at the car and him.

Adrian chuckles, pushing the sunglasses on top of his head and becoming instantly ten times hotter. “Spot on—just don’t blow my cover, okay?” He takes my bag with a casual familiarity that makes my pulse stutter.

“No Sam today?” I ask as he stows my luggage in the petite trunk.

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