Page 11 of The Contract Marriage

“Yeah, but Selena’s face was priceless.” A vindictive edge sharpens Finn’s smile.

“She had it coming. Exes are like fish gone bad and should stay away,” I say. She tried hard to screw up what Rhys has with Max, and I’ll never forgive her for it.

Gideon looks pained. “That’s a terrible comparison.”

“Still true. Not good for you, toss it in the trash.” Sort of like Tyler. He deserves to be in the ex category.

Finn offers the toast as our main representative, since he’s the one closest to Rhys, co-founding RF Investment. But from the way Rhys keeps stealing glances at Max, he misses more than half of it. At least there’ll be a video recording of the moment if he ever wants to hear what Finn had to say.

The luncheon goes without a hitch, except for Silas sighing longingly over every dish. The man’s obsessed with cooking. You’d think he owned restaurants, not ran the Platcher Cosmetics empire.

But as the reception goes on, Max yawns a couple of times. She doesn’t look bored, just a little tired. She’s carrying a small bun in her belly after all. Rhys kisses her temple and whispers something, the two of them intimately in tune with each other. She smiles, then gets up and dings her glass with a fork a few times.

“All right, ladies. This is what you’ve been waiting for.” She picks up the gorgeous white gardenia bouquet that’s been sitting in water since the ceremony ended.

Several women rush over, almost tripping over each other in their enthusiasm. Rhys’s personal security guard, Angelo, moves surreptitiously toward them, although a man big enough that he can’t wear off-the-rack suits doesn’t do stealth very well. I tilt my head. What’s he doing? Did he spot somebody looking sketchy? Except everyone here is vetted and a genuine friend…

I stand up, suddenly uneasy and ready to lend a hand if there’s a problem. Max turns around, her back to the crowd, then throws her bouquet. She gets her back into it and the cluster of flowers launches into the air like a rocket. Suddenly Angelo picks up speed.

Wait a minute… Is he trying to get the bouquet?

The women shriek and start to move backward, but the bouquet’s too high in the air. I step forward in case Angelo tackles one of them in his eagerness to snatch the flowers. If he collides with one of the ladies, we’ll need to call 911.

Something plops on my head, and I instinctively raise my hands to grab it.

Angelo comes to a shuddering halt, his eyes wide. “Nooo!”

I look down and blink. The bouquet lies in my hands. “Oh.”

He looks at me over his sunglasses like I just intercepted a game-winning pass. “You gonna be next to tie the knot?”

“Uh…” I shrug. The only woman I want to marry is…

No. I don’t even want to think about it when she’s set on marrying someone else.

The quartet strikes up “I Put a Spell on You,” and Rhys and Max have their first dance. Their movements are beautifully in tune, with them gazing deeply into each other’s eyes.

Grandmother arches a dark eyebrow in surprise—probably can’t believe Max can dance without embarrassing herself. The granddaughter of an Italian count and a Russian mining heiress, she thinks most people are uncouth and uncultured. And her Mariinsky pedigree certainly didn’t lessen her snobbishness. She probably would’ve rejected Grandfather’s proposal outright if he hadn’t impressed her with his knowledge of ballet and art.

“All right, so who’s dancing with Max next?” Silas asks, his gaze sweeping over the brothers with that not-so-subtle you-better-remember-who-makes-the-bro-brunches look.

Except none of us will let him win the honor without a fight.

Finn raises a finger.

Gideon shakes his head. “Nope. You made the toast.”

“Right. And so I get to dance with her first.”

“Nobody wants to dance with a director from her own company,” I scoff.

“Fine. Rock paper scissors,” Roarke says.

Xavier gives him a theatrically dim look. “How old are you?”

“It’s random and fair. Unless you’re too chickenshit to try your luck.” Roarke shrugs, his palms up.

“Fine,” I say, although catching the bouquet probably used up most of my luck. And whatever’s left I’d prefer to use to pull Olivia out of the black-magic trance Tyler has her in.