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But I can’t find her.

 

Claire: We need the deets.

Ryder: Claire, how old are you to call it deets?

Once I’m caught up, I’m ready to chime in.

Me: Sorry, ladies. I’m not at the game. I’m working and sending emails on a Sunday. Had to finish my thought, but I can leave now for the Tiger Den.

 

Claire: I’m walking in now. Toni and I’ll be waiting for you.

 

Toni: I’m saving our spot now.

 

Caroline: I can escape. I’ll leave Mason and Nate to talk. Be there as soon as I can get a ride.

I’ll circle back to emails and Marci prep later. I let Peter know I’ll need a ride to the Tiger Den, and he responds that he’ll have the car back in just a few minutes.

I check my appearance in the mirror, and my cheeks are a little flushed. It’s been maybe four hours since my last orgasm, and I’m still ready to go. That man just revs my engine. I put some bronzer on my face to disguise the flush and to keep some of the questions from the girls at bay. I chuckle. Who am I trying to kid? They’re like sharks, and they’ll smell blood.

Taking a deep breath, I go out to the car and Peter heads across town. I’m smiling randomly again, but this time it’s because of my wonderful friends. I feel so fortunate to have them. Considering that ninety percent of all startups fail, and less than one percent are sold or go public, and of that one percent, less than a half-percent become successful, being a self-made billionaire is a small club. And being a female billionaire makes it even smaller. That my group of girlfriends managed to find each other and the fact that we connect so well—even beyond the demands of our lifestyles—is truly amazing.

Peter finds a parking spot out front and walks with me into the bar. I go to meet my friends, and he joins the other security that has come with my posse.

“Well, don’t leave us hanging,” Claire says immediately as I approach.

“We had a great time. Jeremy Hamilton broke the record, and it was fantastic.” I scootch into the booth.

“Aren’t you leaving out something very big?” Caroline teases.

“I had a great time with Axel, and we met up again last night for a movie picnic in Golden Gate Park. We watched Up.”

There is a collective awwwww from my friends, and I shake my head. Anyway, Claire is the one who asked for this gathering, so I attempt to shift the focus to her. “What’s going on with you, Claire?”

She sighs. “Well, I had a fantastic first date with this guy—his name was Shane. We walked and talked and had a wonderful time last weekend. We flirted over text and spoke briefly on Monday and again on Tuesday, and we were going to get together again last night. I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the week, but I didn’t think much about it. We’d made plans and I’m not high maintenance. Then last night I went to the restaurant at the agreed time, and after looking like an idiot and waiting for forty-five minutes, I left. The asshole stood me up.”

“What?” Ryder exclaims.

“How can that be?” Toni asks.

“I texted him, and the message wasn’t delivered so he must’ve blocked me,” Claire says, now on the verge of tears.

Caroline opens her arms wide. “Come here.” She gives Claire a big hug. “Guys are total shits.”

“I’m so sorry,” I tell her. This is why we don’t meet men.

“I have a summer company picnic, and I’m going to be stuck either going with my brother and Tinsley or I’ll have to hire someone to go with me.”

Elena’s eyes grow wide. “Oh my God, that sounds perfect. A male escort. Will you have sex with him?”

Claire’s face scrunches up. “No way.” She shakes her head. “Absolutely not!”

Ryder looks around at all of us. “I admit, I took one to my sister’s wedding. I couldn’t take the scrutiny of showing up alone and hearing about all the reasons I’m single—most of which are that I started a company in San Francisco.”

“When did this happen?” I ask. Ryder has been close to us for years. I can’t believe she never said anything.

Ryder takes a big sip of her drink. “About three years ago. You met Drake. We dated for a while after the wedding. He was really a nice guy, and he knew how to use his you know what.”

“Wait! Drake was a male escort?” Elena says so loudly that several in the bar turn to look at us.

“Shhh. Yes. I paid him to go to the wedding. We had fun in my hotel room afterward, and it went so well that we decided to see each other in a non-payment-type relationship. He was sweet, but when it came down to it, we didn’t have a ton in common.”

“I want to know what ‘using his you know what’ is,” Caroline teases. “Tongue? Dick? Brain? Pinky?”

We’re all laughing.

“He was a master with his tongue, and his dick was huge—like a baby’s arm huge. It was very intimidating,” Ryder explains.

The table launches into a tangent about when a dick is too big, and I lean in to Claire and put my arm over her shoulder. Her last serious boyfriend had professed his love, asked her to marry him, and they’d agreed to move in together. She’d sold her place to move when he ghosted her—just up and stopped talking to her. Her brother went over with her key and found he’d even changed the locks. It’s taken a long time for her to get back in the dating game, and it completely sucks that she had this happen.

“Sweetie, I swear not all men are pigs,”

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