Page 30 of All Twerk, No Play

“You can be Snow White." Ruby handed me a teacup, which I rested on my knees to hide my shakiness. "This was Aunt Mallory’s tea set, so it’s only got the old princesses." Mallory sheepishly cheersed me with her Jasmine teacup. “Grace made finger sandwiches, do you want a cucumber one?” Ruby said, forcing a bite-sized sandwich toward my saucer.

I recoiled. “I can’t eat that.”

“But it’s delicious!” she said, wiggling it near my face.

“I said no,” I snapped, pushing her hand away.

Ruby’s lower lip wobbled.

Alexander’s voice boomed, “Victoria, let’s talk.”

I bristled at his tone but would do anything to escape from this nightmare. I set my cup on the saucer and stood, smoothing my skirt. Grace whispered, “Remember, Ruby, Victoria can’t eat bread. We have to respect her choices.”

With a hand on my elbow, Alexander dragged me away—but remained in eyesight of the tea party. Mallory lifted her phone to snap a discrete photo of me and her brother, then whispered to Connor.

“I told you Grace is a foster parent," Alexander hissed.

“Of course she is, she’s a fucking saint,” I retorted, unable to restrain my frustration at how fuckingperfecteveryone thought Grace was.

He narrowed his eyes. “I reminded you last night when I left for foster parent training.”

Right, he’d mentioned that. I’d been annoyed he was leaving early again.

“That’s why we bought a six-bedroom house, Victoria. For our family.”

But what will happen to her when we leave?

He crossed his arms as if he could read my thoughts.

“You always do this, Victoria. You plan so far into the future that you miss what’s right in front of you.” He ran a hand over the scruff of his jaw. “Let’s skip the champagne, ok?”

We returned to the lobby, where Grace was packing up Ruby’s tea set. I forced my chin up, staring behind the reception desk at our freshly mounted Blackstone & Clarke sign. My name may have been on top, but I was outnumbered.

Alexander took Ruby’s hand, placed the other on Grace’s back, and led them out without looking back. As they walked away, I re-imagined theForbescover: me in an incredible chic black dress, arm wrapped around a suit. But the face above the tie was a blur.

Silence descended over the small lobby, where Connor and Mallory had just witnessed my abject humiliation. I forced a calm expression, refusing to let them see the storm raging inside, planning to escape to my office and bury myself in contracts.

Contracts could separate personal from professional. A well-drafted indemnification clause could prevent messy outcomes by establishing boundaries to protect against future heartbreak.

Contracts couldn’t hurt me.

“Well, that was awkward as fuck,” Mallory broke the silence, texting furiously. Probably laughing with somebody—or worse, posting to social media—about my mortifying oversight.

I rubbed my temples, fending off a migraine. “I’m going to my office to—”

“You can’t go,” Mallory said, blocking the path to my office. “I called for reinforcements.”

The elevator pinged. I straightened in case it was Alexander returning with more criticism—or worse, Grace, who would blink those giant doe eyes and say softly,‘Are you ok? You seem upset.’Ugh, she was so fucking annoying.

A woman charged in balancing a paper bag, dressed in head-to-toe black with burgundy lipstick and gold hoop earrings. It took me a moment to place her from the incubator meeting: Mallory’s friend, Kate.

“I left as soon as I got your cryptic text. What happened?” Bottles clanged as she hefted the paper bag onto the reception desk and lifted a handle of tequila.

“It was awful,” Mallory said. “Alex left Ruby up here with Connor while we took a look at the downstairs studio—without telling Victoria. Totally blindsided her.”

“That asshole!” Kate said, pulling out four shot glasses from her bag. Damn, the girl came prepared. “Victoria, did he seriously not tell you about Ruby?”

Had he told me? He mentioned the evening training and the large house, but I’d thought …

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