Page 37 of Royal Desire

I put a hand up to stop him. “Nothing is going on other than me wanting to make the most of the weekend for my clients. Their average age is forty-eight—and a half if you want to get technical. A private show with some throwbacks to their favorite music will remind them they’re alive with their best years ahead of them. If they leave this weekend thinking they need to maximize their investments to live the good life in retirement, then all the better for me. I pay for a live show and an open bar. The manor wins, and I hope my business does too.”

“But...” Felicity leans forward and lowers her voice to a whisper like she’s sharing state secrets rather than speaking in a room with only Devon and me. “We’ve seen the Winslet Uncut posts. Do you really think this is a good idea?”

Devon holds up an index finger. “I’d like to remind everyone I’m not on social media. I contract that mind-numbing task out to others.”

Felicity levels her eyes on her boss. “But you saw the posts because I showed them to you. Respectfully, Mr. Donnelly, this is not the time to act high and mighty. You know what the rest of us know.”

“It was worth pointing out, that’s all.” Devon scrapes a hand down his face before picking up a pen and going over the schedule. “Ruby and Blake are booked to perform tomorrow and both weekend nights. This is only their second weekend. I have no issue making their Friday night show a private event. You have enough attendees to pack the lounge and then some. We can delay the show thirty minutes to accommodate your meet-and-greet after dinner. It will be a good opener for the weekend. How does that sound?”

I try not to let my expression show just how fucking good that sounds. “Perfect. I know this is last minute, but it’s the addition the weekend needed.”

Felicity pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “Should we speak to Ruby and Blake? They might have specific ideas for a private show?”

Devon looks at his watch. “I think they’re in the lounge rehearsing for the weekend. If we’re done here, we can pop in before you leave.”

I close the cover on my tablet. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Felicity gathers her things and stacks them neatly before she stands. “Given our last encounter and the posts on Winslet Uncut, this should be a humdinger. I wouldn’t miss it, even if I wasn’t in charge of your event.”

Devon opens the conference door and holds his arm out. “Just when I think I’m getting used to living here, you people up the ante.”

We’re out of the offices and through the atrium. There’s a sign on the door of The Speakeasy that reads Closed for Rehearsal. The lock beeps when Devon waves his key card.

I’m assaulted by memories from what feels like another lifetime. She’s still the same Ruby who belted songs from the passenger seat of my convertible back in high school or at the productions I tried out for just to be close to her.

Blake isn’t the only one who learned piano from Alice Sinclair. I also joined the choir because I was Ruby-whipped. I’d do anything to be close to her.

But there’s nothing innocent or youthful about Ruby’s voice now, and I wonder when it changed. She’s sultry and oozing sex. But unlike last week when I snuck in to listen, she’s not singing about karma or revenge. She’s singing the most iconic bar song ever written ... Piano Man.

And, just like the other night, she adds her own spin to it.

Of all the things I’ve blocked from my brain when it comes to Ruby, this came in at a solid third. The only things ahead of it are her mere presence and watching her come at my touch.

Fuck, I’ve missed this.

Devon, Felicity, and I hang back in the shadows until they finish. When Devon clears his throat to get their attention, Ruby’s gaze jumps to us. She starts to smile until she sees me emerge from the shadows. Her expression immediately settles on neutral when it comes to the scale of emotions.

Felicity claps her hands like a sea lion performing for snacks. “Divine! Just divine! I always wished I could sing, but I was not blessed even though I do sometimes belt out my favorites in the shower and the car. Poor Harold. He puts up with me.”

Ruby places the microphone back into its cradle. “Are we too loud?”

Devon waves her off. “Not at all. I hate to interrupt, but we have a schedule change.”

Ruby’s eyes dart to me. I lift my chin and hold her gaze but don’t say a word.

See, Ruby? I can do this no-asshole thing while I try to figure you out in the process.

Felicity looks like she enjoys the awkward silence about as much as one would a traffic jam, because she fills the dead air. “We’ve had a change of heart about a private performance this weekend for Deacon Financial. We think the Sinclair siblings would be a lovely addition to the weekend schedule. Your Friday performance will be a closed event. We’re so excited.”

Ruby pulls her lip between her teeth, something I’ve noticed more than once since she’s been back. And if she’s anything like she used to be, my guess is it’s not an uneasy expression.

No.

I’d bet thirty-three percent of my portfolio that she’s biting her lip to keep herself from saying something she’ll regret. Though given her cool demeanor, I doubt she’d care.

Blake is the picture of positivity sitting at the piano. “Wow. A private event on our second weekend. This is exciting! Thanks for the opportunity, Mr. Donnelly.”

Devon nods. “You deserve it.”