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“Why? Why do we have to hear this information?” Wes whines, and Thatch rolls his eyes.
“Because it’s fucking helpful, Whitney.”
“No,” Theo interjects. “I’m pretty sure, with every woman in the universe other than your wife, T, it is not helpful.”
Thatch shrugs and Kline chuckles, and I jump in to regain control of the group.
“Listen, guys, it doesn’t matter. I’ve put a stop to the women contacting the office and will continue to frown upon it when they pop up. I’ve done all I can do.”
“I’m not sure that—” Harrison starts to say, and I reach over and cover his mouth with a hand.
“Right now, we need to call this book club into session, and I need to acquire some skills from our hero. So, let’s all open up to page 222, scroll to the second paragraph, and follow along with his apology, shall we?”
Thatch does as he’s asked, while everyone else grumbles. I glare at each and every one of them until we’ve all opened up to the page in Can’t Handle This where Anthony is apologizing to Amelia for not calling her when he said he would.
“I know I broke a promise,” Anthony replies. “But calling you a month ago would have been doing the same.”
“What do you mean?” Amelia asks. “You’re not even making sense.”
“Because I wasn’t ready, Amelia. Back then, I was a man with nothing to lose. But today, after spending this time with you, I know the truth. You’re everything. Everything I never want to lose. And I made a promise to myself to always treat you that way.”
Thatch sniffles, and Wes rolls his eyes. “This is really the shit women want to read?”
“Don’t you fluffing mock it!” Thatch yells, waving an angry finger. Kline puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “I’m in my feels, and I won’t be belittled by your macho bullshit!”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. Fucking hell. Obviously, the day I decided to include these guys, I must have been on drugs—even though I’ve never done drugs in my life.
“Let’s focus here. What do you think makes this approach work?” I ask, looking around at each guy sitting at the table.
“It’s a classic structure,” Milo says. “Owning up to your shit, explaining it, and then complimenting her in a way she can’t refuse.”
“What are you?” Harrison asks with a laugh. “Some kind of apology expert?”
Milo snorts. “Yeah. And you should be too. Apologizing should be a man’s number one skill.”
“I would have thought it would be not fucking up in the first place,” Theo says, and I’m just about to agree with him when the rest of the group dissolves in laughter.
“Oh God,” Wes says, clutching his side. “Now that’s funny.”
Theo scowls, but Trent wades into the breach to explain. “We’re guys. They’re women. Our brains do not work in the same way. It is a guarantee that you’re going to fuck up. Like, pretty much as sure as the sun rising every day.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I challenge. “If the person is so right for you, like you guys say, why in the hell would you always be doing shit they don’t like?”
“Because that’s part of the fun,” Kline says. “You’re with the same woman, but if you’re with the right one like I am, you’ll never really fully figure them out.”
Thatch nods. “Cassie keeps me on my fluffing toes every G-D day.”
“That’s why it’s imperative that you know how to apologize,” Milo chimes in again and starts to tick his points off on his fingers like we’re imbeciles. “Own your shit, explain your bit, compliment.”
“Fluff yeah!” Thatch yells. “I love a motto that rhymes. It gives it a little something extra.”
I roll my eyes for what has to be the fiftieth time in the last twenty minutes—it’s hard not to with this group—but in the end, I somehow manage to leave Billionaire Book Club with something to consider.
Always know how to apologize.
Ruby
The streets are packed with the end of the week rush, and the bars and restaurants all spill their contents of people out onto the sidewalk.
People are eager to blow off steam, to settle into the weekend, and to answer to themselves instead of their bosses.
My week has been interesting, to say the least, as I’ve had to learn to juggle school, recording, and my hot-but-cocky boss and his special brand of humor.
I haven’t slept all that much, and there aren’t enough hours in the day to serve as Cap’s assistant with complete efficiency, but all in all, I’ve survived.
Plus, after getting a real feel for my schedule, Cap’s entrusted me with the authority to find a secondary assistant—someone to fill in the hours I can’t and concentrate on the more menial tasks of the office while I learn actual skills that will help me become a good lawyer. I’m not saying I’m awesome, but, I mean, it is like getting a promotion in the first week.
