Page 9 of Just Not That Into Billionaires

Everybody is just staring at me now.

“You dated guys in limos?” Mia asks, shocked.

“It was a weird time for me,” I say.

“I’m sorry, this is completely blowing my mind,” Mia says. “You think rich guys are the worst. All of them—millionaires and especially billionaires. In fact, I seem to remember you saying last year that billionaires are the scourge of the earth!”

My face goes hot. I did say that billionaires are the scourge of the earth, which is super embarrassing now that a few of my friends have hooked up with billionaires. “I don’t hateyourbillionaires,” I clarify. “Just the rest of them.”

Noelle snorts. “What do they care too much about?”

“Shut it,” I say. “I’m not gonna sit here ranting on your menfolk.”

Mia throws a pillow. “Tell us! What is the problem with billionaires?”

“Well, seriously!” I say, laughing. “I mean, a billion dollars? That’s how much money you had to make? This is what you’ve spent your time on?”

Noelle’s laughing and clapping.

“Have you ever heard of charity?” I continue. “A simple and honest day’s labor? Working with your hands? However” —I turn to Noelle— “you know I always make an exception for Malcolm. In spite of his rocky start, he is clearly one of the good guys. And fine, Theo. Max. Rex. The billionaires you have chosen, clearly they’re awesome. In fact, their good taste in choosing you somewhat redeems them.”

“But justsomewhat,” Tabitha teases.

“Just somewhat,” I say.

Noelle is grinning. “Poor Francine. Every time you look away, a billionaire grabs up one of your friends!”

“It’s true! Is it too much to ask that maybe one of my friends picks a thousandaire? Thousandaires are amazing! Sexy bartenders, hot musicians, sweaty construction workers, amazing veterinarians. I mean,pullllease. Millionaires and billionaires.”

Everybody’s laughing. “That’s why we love you, baby!” Mia says.

Kelsey says, “I’m still having a hard time picturing you with a guy in a limo.”

“Seriously, I didn’t know which way was up! I’d been in strict ballet boarding schools since the age of ten.” I point a baby carrot at them. “While you all were going to prom and football games and keggers and sleepovers. The only music I knew by heart was written two centuries ago by men in powdered wigs. Suddenly I’m on my own in the city of sin without a ten-hour-a-day regimen? And there are no weigh-ins? I was ready to go to clubs and date glamorous men and eat whatever I wanted.”

“Like Rumspringa,” Lizzie observes. “When Amish kids go into the real world and sow their wild oats.”

“I guess, yeah,” I say. “And the dancers in Beau Cirque were so hip and fun and I wanted to belong, and suddenly I did. Unless of course you asked Benny, sitting there zeroing in on me, all scowly and judgmental. I knew I could crumble or could turn it up to eleven right back at him.”

“You know he was probably in love with you,” Mia says. “You know that, right?”

“No way,” I say. “You had to be there.”

“You’re the beautiful, vivacious, wayward dancer. He was the sullen misfit, desperately in love with you.”

“Totally not how it was,” I say.

“The nerdy frenemy, pining for you,” she continues.

“He was not thinking along those lines, I promise you. His all-consuming focus was on his little inventions and his nerdy pursuits.”

“And you,” Lizzie puts in.

“And then like a fool I get drunk and throw myself at him. Because I guess I love being rejected by him.”

“And don’t forget marrying him,” Kelsey says.

I’m shaking my head.

---