That shuts her up. She also looks so mortified, slapping her hand to her face and wiping it so forcefully, my only reaction is to laugh loudly. I stand by my earlier assessment—she’s a lunatic, but oddly one I like. I’d imagine her arguing black is white if it gave her an alternative to agreeing with me. Makes a change from the usual simps that follow me around.
I open my mouth to ask her if she’d like to accompany me on the rest of my tour around the stables, when another human whirlwind, this time blond, interrupts me. She rushes past me and into the stable without so much as a glance in my direction. Maverick sensibly decides he’s not getting any sleep with the amount of noise going on and stands up, walks over to where he smells the carrots I’m still holding, and blocks me from her view.
“Jesus, Rubes, what’s going on? I just heard?—”
“Heard what?”
“You kicked McTavish in the balls, and he fired you?”
Five minutes ago, I was minding my own business, mooching through the stables and handing out carrots, but now I’m fully invested in a story with only partial information. I have no idea what led to the kicking, or even who got kicked, but I have no doubt he deserved it.
Interestingly, what piques my interest the most is Ruby’s new unemployment status.
“I didn’t kick him in the balls, I kneed him in the balls?—”
“Ruby—”
“What? He’s such a dick, he deserved it. He’s been stringing me along, promising me a visa that heneverapplied for, while perving on me every chance he gets.”
My fists ball at the audacity. But at least I have context for the perv comment, though I strongly object to being lumped in the same category with whomever this dickhead clearly is.
“He called my boss, Ruby, and Monty’s mad. You know they’re friends, and he knowswe’refriends. He told me to tell you that if you come by, you can’t keep Mav here. I didn’t say you werealreadyhere. He’s gonna kill me.”
Peering around Maverick, I see a torrent of emotion play out over Ruby’s face—annoyance, anger, sadness, rage—and her cheeks flush a deep pink, bringing out the brilliant green of her eyes.
“Fuck. Fuck that disgusting prick.” Her long ponytail flicks behind when she spins around, throwing her arms in the air before she bends over, takes a deep breath, and calm is restored. It happens so quickly, I get the impression she’s used to being treated like this. That she overcomes setbacks and settles into whatever plan B she has concocted. Because somehow, I know there’s always a plan B. “Sorry, Meg. I didn’t mean to put this on you. I just had nowhere else to go. Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. . .”
The friend—Meg—pulls her into a hug. “Keep Mav here for the night. Monty’s away, and I can cover for you. Stay in my room, but you have to be out before he gets back in the morning.”
A grateful smile stretches across her face, her nose scrunches up, and I’m taken aback by how beautiful she is. Like seriously beautiful.
“Thank you, thank you?—”
“You don’t have a job?” I blurt before I can stop myself, handing Maverick the last carrot.
Ruby and her friend turn wide-eyed in my direction. Ruby might have forgotten I was standing there, but her friend clearly hadn’t known I was there at all. She’s staring at me with her mouth wide open.
“Miles Burlington,” I say, introducing myself.
“Yes . . . um . . . I know who you are. Um . . . what are you . . . can I help you?”
“No, you can’t. He’s not staying,” snaps Ruby, and once more, I hold in my smile.
It’s Ruby’s lack of flustering around me that holds my attention. It’s a new experience, being hated by a woman. At least one I’ve not already slept with. Because, for the most part, women love me, but it only becomes tricky when they don’t listen to what I’ve told them about my lack of interest in any form of commitment.
“Actually, yes. I want to know if what you just said is true. Does Ruby have a job right now?” I turn from the friend to Ruby. “Because it sounds like you don’t.”
Ruby’s eyes narrow, and she glares at me. When her jaw pops with annoyance, I can’t deny my dick doesn’t thicken a fraction.
The friend shakes her head. “No, she doesn’t.”
Just what I wanted to hear, and without my better judgment I reply, “Excellent, that means you’re free to work for me.”
CHAPTER 3
Ruby
“Iam not fucking working for you.”
