The Billionaire's Ballet: A Contemporary Billionaire Friends to Lovers Romance (Friends with Benefits) by JJ Knight, Deanna Roy, Lucy Riot Page A

out the front door a little while ago,” one said. “Haven’t seen him return.”
    “Thank you,” I said. The front doors were formidable, twelve feet high at least. But before I could reach them, the butler appeared to pull one open. “Good evening, Miss Juliet,” he said.
    “Quinn is still out there?” I asked him.
    “I believe so,” he said.
    I hurried through, out onto the porch where I’d first seen Quinn and Bennett when I arrived just a few days ago. It seemed like a lifetime already.
    The circle was filled with cars. More were parked along the drive all the way to the gate.
    A uniformed man approached. “Can I fetch your vehicle?” he asked.
    “No, I came in a carriage,” I said absently as I rushed by, ignoring his confused expression.
    The walk to the gate was long, but I could hear the commotion out there long before I arrived. Headlights pierced the dark in every direction and the bright burst of camera flashes lit the scene at random.
    Quinn stood at the gate with two men in uniform, waving his arms to shoo them away. When I got close enough, the flashes began popping like fireworks going off. Quinn hurried to me. “Juliet! You can’t be out here!” he cried.
    He seemed frantic and strung out. His bow tie was loose around his neck and his shirt was unbuttoned.
    “Quinn, are you okay?” I asked.
    “Not particularly,” he said. “Let’s get you back inside.”
    We hurried toward the mansion. “What’s going on?” I asked him.
    “Hell if I know. Apparently Margie — a friend of mine — checked into a celebrity rehab. The bloodsuckers showed up, hoping for a juicy headline. Shit. It’s a mess.” He raked his fingers through his sweaty disheveled locks.  
    “Just a friend,” I said, not particularly hiding my disbelief.
    “Well, she is now. We were engaged once.”
    “Thank you for being honest about that,” I said, struggling to keep up with him.
    “I’m going to have to go out to California. Straighten this out.”
    “Is she still — in love with you? Or what?” I couldn’t imagine checking into rehab over a man.
    “No, no, it’s not like that.”
    We arrived at the porch. I stopped by the door.
    “What’s it like, then?” I knew I really had no claim on Quinn. He wasn’t my boyfriend or even a lover. We’d barely kissed.
    But we had just gotten started!
    “She’s fragile. Her self-esteem.” Quinn stopped talking when Adams opened the door. He pulled on my arm. “Come on.”
    He led me inside and up the curving stairs. I hadn’t been up them since elementary school. The playroom was still open back then, and Mrs. B was the nanny for the little girls.
    We didn’t turn to the left, where the nursery and children’s bedrooms had been. Quinn led me right. I’d never been this direction at all.
    We passed three doors spaced well apart. Then Quinn pushed open the last one. Inside was a huge room like a hotel suite. Fireplace, sofas, a small bar to one side. And other inside doors that led to a bathroom and a darkened bedroom. I could just make out the four posters.
    My heart sped up. This was Quinn’s space. His grown-up space.
    He closed the door behind him. “I need a drink,” he said.
    His hands pulled the bow tie free of his shirt and he tossed it on the bar. Then he shrugged out of the jacket. “Too hot for black tie,” he said. “What was I thinking?”
    Of me , I thought, but didn’t say it. I stood by the door, torn between helping him and fleeing this disaster.
    He reached below the bar and brought two heavy tumblers to rest on the wood surface with a sharp clunk. I wanted to stop him from making one for me, but stayed silent. He dropped several blocks of ice into each glass and poured something amber from a crystal decanter.
    I crossed the room and sat on a stool on my side of the bar. He pushed one of the glasses toward me. I picked it up.
    He clinked his against mine, and I was reminded of the identical moment just a half hour ago with Bennett.