Breaking the Billionaire's Rules(66)

I give some last-minute instructions. The same ones I’ve given a dozen times already.

I’ve been in a lot of shows, done countless auditions, but I’ve never felt so nervous, never felt like so much was at stake.

“Flip over the squares when I give the signal,” I say.

“Breathe.” Jada loops an arm over my shoulder. “You got this.”

I’m not so sure. “What if he’s just…annoyed? There’s a good chance of it.”

“I promise you, he won’t be annoyed,” Kelsey says.

“Angry, then.”

“You don’t know until you try,” Kelsey says. “You’re scared right now, but you thought up this scheme when you weren’t scared. Your bravest self thought up this scheme. Trust that girl.”

“That girl wasn’t thinking about the downside. Max hating it. What have I done?” I wrap my arms around myself. “This could be the high school lunchroom all over again,” I say.

“We can still pull out,” Jada says.

“What?” Sienna complains. “Are you shitting me?”

“Nobody’s pulling out.” Kelsey claps three times. “Walk-out positions.”

“What if I created this just to punish myself?” I say to her.

“Then I’ll get you a year’s supply of Peanut Butter Kandy Kakes. Okay? And we’ll dance it all off when we land Anything Goes.”

I barely hear her. I’m back in that lunch room, flat on my face with spaghetti all over me. “I seriously think I might throw up,” I say. “I really think I’ve created my worst nightmare.”





28




Love ruins a man. Just walk away.

~The Max Hilton Playbook: Ten Golden Rules for Landing the Hottest Girl in the Room





* * *



Max

The show really is interminable.

And then the strangest thing. A pair of women come down the runway, arms linked. They’re wearing cat suits. Matching sparkly ears. Aprons.

It takes a while for me to process that this is the Meow Squad uniform.

I turn to Parker. “What is Meow Squad doing up there?”

Parker shrugs.

Only businesses that donate get to do a turn, and they’re supposed to be modeling clothes.

“Meow Squad made a huge last-minute donation to the shelter,” Vicky says. “Well, it makes sense. Meow Squad, cats, right?”

Another pair of women walk out. And then another pair. They stop in a clump at the center of the catwalk. I recognize Kelsey and Jada there.

And then Mia strolls out, boldly owning the catwalk in the uniform she despises. Her cheek glow pink with high emotion, a fighter to the end.

“She hates that uniform,” I mumble to nobody in particular. “What is she doing? She hates being seen in it.”

As if that’s the issue.

The women have squares with letters on them. They run around and get into formation, spelling L-O-V-E Y-O-U.

“How sweet is that!” Vicky says. “Look, Smuckers! Meow Squad loves us.”

I stand, heart thundering.

Kelsey and Jada hoist Mia up above them, cheerleader style, holding her feet.

She holds up a lone letter— “I”—and gazes down at me. I can barely process it. Her up there, hanging her heart out. Opening herself up.

I love you.

Waiting.

And no way will I leave her standing there. I’m moving before I can even think about it. I jump up onto the stage.

I nearly have a heart attack as she begins to free-fall backwards, but her friends catch her neatly and bounce her to the floor in front of them.

Dancers.

I go to her. “Mia, what are you doing?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were getting the letters. Or my texts,” she says.

“So this is what you came up with?”

“I was an idiot. I love you—that will never stop. I need you to know.”

A hush falls over the room—people are straining to listen, but the only sound I can hear is my pulse, banging in my ears. “You decided to make it into a spectacle. At my fashion show.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think this through,” she says, eyes shining with unshed tears.

I go to her. I cup her cheeks, only vaguely aware of the applause this seems to spark. “No, you didn’t think it through. You just went for broke. You shot for the stars. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

And then I kiss her. The applause turns deafening.

I pick her up and whirl her around. I don't care that everybody’s watching.

The music changes and she laughs into the kiss. “Let me down, the next group needs to come out,” she says.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I say, kissing her again. “I love you.”

“You still do?”

“Like I ever stopped,” I say.

Somehow we’re off the stage. Parker’s scrounged up an extra chair. I’m a little disappointed; I would’ve preferred her on my lap.

She sits and says hi to Vicky. It turns out that they’ve met—her old roommate Lizzie is a mutual friend.

The show continues on. I remember nothing.