Page 111 of The Grumpy Billionaire

“Why not?” I ask.

“What good would it do?”

“It would make me happy.”

“I’ll say my thing to Charlie, but I don’t want to be forced into it.”

“I get it.” I trace a gentle line over her shoulder and down her arm. “It’s your thing.”

“I know it probably sounds like I’m wimping out, but in a way, I’m still really digesting it all and sometimes I feel like he’s in my head. This voice. ‘God, Stella, can’t you do anything right?’ I’m a lot more interested in ejecting that voice than having some showdown.”

I nod, impressed at how thoughtful she’s being. I want to fix things for her—the damaging letter I sent, this issue with Charlie—but Stella’s determined to manage things her way, and I respect that.

“I’ll say something when I get the urge to. Also, I hate that this is causing problems with you two.”

“There are problems with Charlie and me right now, and those problems are a hundred percent caused by Charlie.”

She gets this mischievous glint in her eye. “Who do you think would be angrier: Charlie seeing us in bed together? Or Wulfric discovering you’re not allergic to pineapple?”

We debate that for a while. We’re definitely leaning toward Wulfric when Kelsey texts, asking us if we are in for pizza with Willow and Lizzie.

“What do you think?” she asks. “It’s okay if you don’t want to deal with my friends. I can tell them that you’re working on the most important and difficult product of your life with an impossible deadline.”

“No, I’m going to hang out with my woman’s people.”

An hour later, I’m eating pizza with Stella’s new girlfriends. I’ve met her roommate, Kelsey, of course, but never really spent time with her. And then there’s Willow, who knows her way around an algorithm, as it turns out. I meet Lizzie, the woman behind all of those cookie stores that have been popping up like mushrooms, as well as Mia, who is starring in the musical with Kelsey.

A few other women drift in; I’m starting to feel a little like a zoo animal that everyone in the building wants to come and see. I greet people and do jokey small talk about the construction. I’ve had to gain some ability to be in social situations, but I still don’t like them. They’re still an exercise in focus and remembering how to do it.

“You okay with this?” Stella asks.

“Ripping off the Band-Aid,” I grumble.

Later still, the door opens and none other than Lola walks in. “Oh!” She looks between Stella and me.

“Lola!” Stella says. “Um...”

A tall woman with a cake crowds in and around her and puts it on the counter. “Lola and I made carrot cake!”

Lola comes near. “So…” She toggles her pointer finger back and forth between us.

“Busted.” Stella shoots me a nervous glance. “Don’t tell Wulfric.”

“Hey, I don’t care if you tell Wulfric,” I say.

“Don’t worry,” Lola says. “Wulfric and I don’t discuss things like that. It’s more commands and demands, so I don’t see where it would come up.” She goes and hangs her coat on the crowded coatrack.

“Heads up now that everyone’s here!” Kelsey waves a sheaf of papers, long silver nails flashing in the light. “I’m passing these around. I want you to put them on your refrigerators, in the hallways, on the elevators, and burn the image to your eyeballs, too. All doorman staff will have a stack at all times.”

Stella takes a couple of them and hands one to me. The flyers show a man with puffy cheeks, thick brows, and about twenty arrows pointed at his face. Kelsey has really taken up the battle of Lola, apparently.

“This is Roger, Lola’s ex,” Kelsey says.

Lola sheepishly raises her hand. “And greatest lapse in judgment.”

“Fuck that. Your lapse in judgment didn’t make him go feral,” Kelsey says. “His name is Roger Bancroft Junior, and we are protecting Lola from him. Roger is dangerous, probably armed, and a jackass.”

“This is a pretty high-security building,” Lola says. “I’m not expecting him to make trouble, I mean, he’s generally very cowardly, but I’m sorry you have to even think about it.”

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