Breaking the Billionaire's Rules

by Annika Martin

Surround yourself with interesting people. Get them talking and laughing.

“You don’t know. Max is my kryptonite. Beyond kryptonite. Kryptonite doesn’t live to destroy you. Kryptonite doesn’t stare at you with an amused light in its eyes as you die inside.”

“Use his own system to wrap him around my little finger…” I whisper, trying it out, “and then I bring him to his knees.”

You are the alpha. Adorn yourself with symbols of your superiority.

An agreeable personality is a boring personality; be cocky and challenging.

And when things are at their worst: You have a right to dream.

Smile like you have a magical secret. The world is your cocktail party.

Remember, you’re the alpha. You’re the pursued. Let your reality be stronger than hers.

Never ask a woman what she wants. Tell her what she wants.

Never fixate on any one woman; you’re playing a numbers game.

Personally, I find that adding lavender to a blend introduces a wistful note of longing, a nostalgic edge, an ache for what once was, what never could’ve been.

“Rattling Meow Squad girls?” he says, strolling in, smiling. I frown, wondering what he means. Rattling? Was Mia rattled? Is she okay?

Or we go with a Max Hilton who sings weepy show tunes and who still can’t get over his first love who rejected him?”

Women are like dogs. They enjoy knowing you’re in charge.

I’m the amazing one, I think. I’m the one you missed out on.

Show her you’re the one in charge by creating a system of rewards for good behavior and demerits for behavior you don’t prefer.

The woman will scoff at your rewards and demerits but keep going. Doling out rewards and demerits positions you as the approval giver and her as the approval seeker.

Nice guys wind up in the friend zone.

Do something outrageous. You don’t give a shit what she thinks.

Only an idiot tells a woman what she wants to hear.

Open your eyes. Start seeing what’s in front of your face.

Don’t be part of the herd. Have your own unique opinions on things.

“Hmm,” Glen says as we head down the hallway, past the row of doors, every few steps another rehearsal studio where you can hear muffled music. “Didn’t you use to say something like that?”

Guys are like dogs—they like somebody to tell them what to do.”

Show your sense of humor—you never want to take yourself too seriously, and you definitely don’t want to take her too seriously.

Never let her smell blood in the water.

Never ask a woman if you can kiss her. She should be asking you. Better yet, she should be begging you.

You have high standards. Let her know that it’s up to her to meet those standards.

“You’re too terrifying,” I finally say. The light flooding in the windows is a faint dot of white in each of his eyes. “So are you,” he says.

“But you tried to apologize later.” “And you told me to fuck off in front of everyone,” he says. “I deserved it. It was too little too late. Everything between us was so out of control by then.”

The world is your cocktail party; never forget it.

I’m so overcome with affection, I forget how to breathe. Just her standing there naked is all my fantasies from that lost summer coming true, but so much better.

The last thing you want is a woman you can’t walk away from.

“It’s not like that,” I say. “He wrote the book. ‘The last thing you want is a woman you can’t walk away from.’ Remember that little piece of wisdom? He literally wrote the book on being a jerky player.”

Go ahead and make her compete for your approval. Remember, you are in control.

Always stay just a little bit out of her grasp.

Never buy her a drink. That’s a move for losers.

And it’s here I get it. It’s here I understand everything. He didn’t play like a robot because he feels nothing. He didn’t create the cold, careless Max Hilton persona because he feels nothing. He did those things because he feels too much.

You can never know the outcome of a thing, Mia. The only thing that you have is how it feels.

Guys are oblivious as a rule. You don’t have to do much to rise above the competition.

Love ruins a man. Just walk away.

“You don’t know until you try,” Noelle says. “You’re scared right now, but you thought up this scheme when you weren’t scared. Your bravest self thought up this scheme. Trust that girl who’s brave.”

Believe in yourself. Shoot for the stars.

“She was playful and outrageous,” Max says. “A little bit bossy. And so goddamn beautiful, it killed me.”

“They say cynics are just disillusioned idealists. You should know that writers of pickup books are just heartbroken romantics.”

He comes to me, begins unbuttoning my shirt. “I wanted to stay. We have a lifetime to celebrate.” My belly flip-flops. A lifetime. “If you think you’re going to get some action, you’re right.”