Honestly, I couldn’t remember what his bid was. I only recalled having not liked his demeanor. He’d kind of given me the creeps. “I have his bid at home. I’ll bring it next week, and you can look at it.”
Isabella stopped doodling on her pad. “Why don’t we discuss it over dinner at our place tonight?”
Wanting to get to the bottom of my suspicions, I agreed.
Right before I got in the car to go to Mick and Isabella’s house, she sent me a text.
Wear something cute. We’re going to the White Stallion after dinner
WTF I’m not in the mood, I’ll come home
Get in it!
I ran back into the house and changed into a short summer dress and a pair of old boots that I’d had for years. Taking my ponytail down, I spritzed my hair with sea salt spray and scrunched the layers, teasing the underneath to get a messy look. I hoped to pass Isabella’s inspection.
I could really use one night without thinking about him.
There were several cars parked at Mick’s place. I noticed a refurbished antique Mustang in the driveway and wondered if Mick had a thing for restoring cars. It was a beauty. A lot of work had been done to it, and I was peering in through the open passenger window when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
Mick’s friend held up a set of keys. “You want to drive her?” Brent’s smile lit his blue eyes.
“And why would it be her? It could’ve been a born a boy. After all, it is blue.” I teased.
He went to the driver’s side and opened the door, motioning for me to get in it. “The new clutch is a bit edgy, but she drives like a dream.” He took a step back until I was seated, then closed the door.
“You’re not going with me?”
He shook his head, but had an amused look on his face. “Go. Get her out on the tollway and enjoy the road.”
It had been years since I just drove the highway with the windows down—crank windows at that. It was like high school all over again. I thought about what Stephanie had said. History talking.
The drive was great for me, and I enjoyed zipping up and down the tollway, a bit too much.
“License please,” the motorcycle officer asked, rather unamused. He stepped behind the car and used his radio to communicate with dispatch.
After a few minutes, he returned with his ticket book. “Ma’am, is this your car?”
I shook my head. “I was meeting friends for dinner, and it was in the driveway. I thought a joy ride would be fun.”
He wasn’t the least bit happy with me. “Step out of the car, please.”
“Sir, I was just teasing.”
He backed a step away from the car, and I saw his right hand slide to his pistol. “Step out now.”
I reached for my purse, and that was all it took to piss him off.
He pulled his gun on me. “Don’t touch that bag and get out of the car.”
The next thing I knew, I was at the trunk of the car with my hands wide, face flat against the car, and my feet spread apart. I regretted wearing the short dress that was now being blown around. I’m sure every car that passed by me was getting a great view of my rear end, while the officer spoke with a female member of the force.
“Ma’am, do you know a Brent Hodges?” she asked.
My cheek was still flat to the trunk of the car. “Yes, he’s friends with my employee’s fiancé, Mick Stevens. This is Brent’s car. He gave me permission to drive it. Said the open road would cure what ailed me.” The constant thumping noise was my nervous knees knocking against the bumper of the car.
Scared shitless.
They both laughed. Then I heard other voices, one I recognized. I turned to face a squad of people laughing and videoing the whole thing, including Isabella.
“What are you all doing?” I screamed, pointing at her and the camera.
Izzy walked up to me. “Please don’t be mad. We just wanted you to have a little fun and forget about all of life for a moment. You need to breathe, Chelsie.” She gripped my forearm and searched my eyes.
“It might’ve been funny to you, but I’m gonna have nightmares about a gun being pulled on me.”
“It was a fake gun, Ms. Peterson. I’m sorry if it upset you. They really meant well.” The officer tried to get Mick and Brent out of trouble with me.
I turned to face the crowd of friends that had gathered. “You better open your wallets tonight because the premium tequila is gonna cost you while you make this up to me.”
“Please use Uber, Ms. Peterson. We don’t want to be arresting you for real.”
For real.
Dinner was fabulous, and Mick was a great cook. Watching him with Isabella made me realize that life does go on. Meeting their friends was fun, even though I had to be the joke of the party.
“You’re sure you’re not mad and gonna fire me?” Isabella’s pouty face was adorable.
I hugged her. “Let me guess. It’s all over Facebook?”
“Oh, hell, yeah,” she boasted.
“Okay, you’ve accomplished your goal. I can’t wait to be a dancin’ fool tonight. But, I need tequila first because we both know I cannot dance.”
“That ain’t no lie.” She brushed by me in a hurry.
The whole reason I agreed to dinner was to have Mick and Brent look over the contractor’s bids. I had to threaten them with a frying pan to stop and look at the job bids, but sure enough, Carson’s guy had definitely mentioned electrical work that exceeded the other bid amounts by sixty-two percent. It was a clear sign that something was wrong.
Mick put all the paperwork back into my plastic portfolio. “Next week, I’ll dig into this guy and see if there’s been complaints against his license. We’ll work under the radar, so he won’t know it has anything to do with you.”
“Okay. I want to know what he was doing and how Carson fits into all this.”
We loaded up into four Uber cars and headed to the nightclub. As promised, the tequila started flowin’ and within a few minutes, I was feeling no pain and ready to hit the floor.
“I think Brent is attracted to you,” Izzy said while looking at someone over my shoulder.
“He’s behind me, isn’t he?”
She winked. “Yep.”
“So, this was a grand stand blind date, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, but don’t get mad and fire me. We all had good intentions.” The couple beside us left, and we grabbed their stools, so we were now facing the dance floor.
“I know. But I’m not ready to move on. My heart is with him, and I don’t think it’s right to bring another man into it.”
“It’s not like he hasn’t already seen you naked.”
I pushed back from the bar and stood up. “Oh, my god, I forgot he was there that night. He saw me in… Why didn’t you remind me? I’ve been so messed up over Ian I didn’t remember he was there. I’m so embarrassed I have to get out of here.”
“No, don’t you dare run. Chelsie, you have to stop acting childish.”
“You and everyone else has to stop trying to fix me.” Grateful I had a wallet purse slung over my shoulder and didn’t have to search for a phone or bag, I cleared my sight and focused on the front door straight in front of me.
“Chelsie, please don’t go.” His voice was very southern and sweet.
“My heart is not mine to give. You don’t want to be around me.”
He stepped in a bit closer, so we didn’t have to yell over the music. “I’m not looking to get in your pants or a one-night stand. I’m in the same space in life as you. You see, seven months ago, my wife decided she’d missed out on her party days since we married right out of high school, so she filed for divorce and moved back to South Carolina. If it weren’t for friends like Mick and Izzy, I’d go nuts from the maddening silence at home. I just want to spend time with friends, both male and female. Okay with you?”
He was right. The silence was maddening. “Sure.”
We walked back to the group’s table and told them w
e were staying. Isabella winked.
Dancing exercised my body and my mind, and I boogied more than I cared to because he wouldn’t take no for an answer. My mind told me the For Sale sign was indeed closure and to accept it—move on.
Brent was a really great on his feet, so I did enjoy myself. He held me close on the slow songs, but he kept it more like “professional” rather than a couple. Between the dancing and the tequila, my legs were beginning to feel more like jelly than sticks.
When the lights flashed and last call was announced, I was shocked it was so late. I hadn’t closed down a bar in over a decade. I’d enjoyed getting out, and believe it or not, I wasn’t thinking about Ian one hundred percent of the time—not even close.
“You drove to Mick’s, but since you’re drunk, you’re gonna need to leave your car. I’m not legal either, so I’ll get us both cars to go home.”
“Ride me. I don’t want to ride alone drunk like this. It’s a scary world.”
“Chelsie?”
“Brent? Oops, sorry.” I giggled. “I’m meant ride with me—as in share a car. I’m not asking you in. I’m just asking you to ride me home. I’ll pay for it. That way it’s legit.”
He laughed—hard.
“What’s so funny?”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we walked through the bar’s open doors. “You’re funny when you’re drunk.”
I summoned an Uber car service and extended my graciousness to the group for a wonderful night.
When the car pulled up to my front walk, I hopped out quickly before Brent got the wrong idea. “Thank you for a well-needed fun night,” I said before closing the door.
He rolled the window down. “Chelsie,” he called out to me.
Turning back to him, I said, “Yes?”
“You’re going to be okay, and the lucky man who lands you someday will have won the world’s jackpot.”
I lay in bed that night believing my world’s jackpot was the biggest lying ass on the planet.
Chapter Eighteen
Isabella slowly opened the back entrance to the office. “Is the coast clear?” She removed her glasses and paused with the door still open, just in case she needed a quick escape.
“Why wouldn’t it be? You helped me realize some things. So, in keeping with that, I need your help.”
She closed the door and took her seat facing my desk. “My help? You want to see Brent again?” She wiggled her brow.
Uncertain if she was going to agree to my plan, I slowly laid out my agenda. “I’m not ready to fall in love, fake falling or hurt anyone, but I think it’s time I tried to make Ian jealous. It’s my last ditch effort to see if he really cares.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “Boy, you don’t get it, do you?” Pissy was the perfect term for her at that moment.
“Why the attitude? I do get it. I know that someone, a man, would need to play along and asking Brent or any of your friends would be the wrong thing. That’s why I’m gonna hire a professional—an escort.”
Crème-enhanced coffee spewed all over my to-do list. “No fucking way.”
“It’s the perfect scenario. I’ve thought all about it, researched my options and I believe,” turning my laptop around to face her, “That Mr. Brandon Hunter is the perfect escort.”
She started reading his bio, while I went to make myself another cup of tea. “It says here that he lives in Tucson. Are you planning to move him in? And how are you gonna pull this off without exposing Ty? Do you have all those answers too?”
“I’ve already contacted him. His real name is Jason Stone and his brother lives in Arlington, so he’ll be coming into town for an actual business meeting. He said he understands the assignment and is good around kids with nephews about the same age.”
She went to the kitchen and grabbed a piece of biscotti. “This whole scenario is making me blow my carb count. I think you’re nuts, but I love you.”
“You’ve witnessed—or really Mick has, how jealous Ian is. If he still cares, I’ll know soon enough.”
“Don’t say I didn’t want you when this shit blows up in your face.” She offered me a cookie. “So, what do you want or need me to do?” Her sigh was audible but completely accepted.
“First, this will involve your engagement party. He will be my plus one. Second, I need Brent to understand why I’m doing this. I’ll tell him, but I need the support of you and Mick.”
“And third?”
“Plenty of photo ops. By the time this is over, I’ll be outnumbering Kim Kardashian two-to-one on selfies.”
“Look, Ian was a complete jackass to Mick and Brent that night when the alarms went off. Neither one is going to be excited about helping you with Ian, but we all understand love. So, I’ll do what I can to smooth it over with them and hope it works. You’re right about one thing—Ian’s proved to our world how jealous he is. You’re gonna need a bangin’ dress, so let’s go shopping with our vendors.” She walked around the desk and gave me a hug. “For you and only you, I hope this works.”
The next couple of days flew by as I shopped for clothes and put my plan in motion. Brandon, he clarified as his fictitious name, was going to be in town as himself, Jason Stone, a real-estate developer for some actual business. We would be meeting, or rather bumping into each other, at a local chamber of commerce event. To keep things real, I couldn’t share with Shawna and Jorge the truth. I needed Jorge to make that important call I knew at some point he would.
I slowed my pace in an effort to calm my anxiety as I climbed the steps to Infinity Restaurant’s private dining room where our meeting was being held. The moment I opened the door, the server approached with a tray of wine, and I grabbed two. She looked around for a companion before giving me a smile with a “Yeah, you’re a drunk” look as I downed the first glass and put it on a nearby table.
Round one of liquid courage on board.
Mingling is painful, I don’t care who you are, and even though I knew most of the attendees, I found small talk with them mindless. With a red, clingy dress that accentuated my breasts and hips, I became self-conscious about my choice of attire. “Get ‘em talking,” Izzy said when she handed me the dress to try on. When two women looked my way and one leaned in to the other to whisper something and nod in my direction, I could only assume Izzy was right.
This better work, I don’t have the balls to go at it again.
Peter Dudley, President of the Chamber, made his way to my side. “How are you doing, Chelsie?”
“Very well, thank you.” I sidestepped as to put a bit of space between us. The man always gave me the creeps. He never brought his wife to meetings, and I’d watched him hit on every female in the group.
“Heard about the grand opening, congratulations. But why the long delay?”
“Um, electrical work. Adding a gourmet kitchen to that old building was a challenge.”
A stud left a group of ladies behind Peter and sauntered in my direction.
My breath left me. Good Lord, I all but creamed my panties. He was even dreamier than the photos suggested.
“Mr. Stone, have you met Chelsie Peterson?” Peter asked.
“No. Lovely too meet you, Chelsie.” He presented his hand, and I couldn’t help but notice his expensive watch.
Blue eyes the color of the Caribbean singed my skin. “Mr. Stone, pleasure.”
He nodded. “It’s Jason.”
I smiled.
Peter studied both of us. “Mr. Stone will be working with some developers of the River Bend project. I asked him to join us this evening. Perhaps you two have something in common with restoring old buildings.”
“Perhaps,” I uttered and dipped my head to camouflage my uncontrollable urge to smile.
Peter excused himself, and Jason and I made common small talk as other women gathered around and gawked in his direction.
Cougars, mostly.
Part of me giggled inside as I tried not to focus on the fact he was a hired escort. Smo
oth were his actions, and he articulated his words very sexily with a baritone voice. He exuded sex appeal.
God, what would he look like naked?
“Chelsie, I’m headed to my hotel. Would you care to join me for a nightcap?”
Holy mother, he just asked me that in front of all the inquiring minds.
“Before you scurry off, perhaps I can get a photo for the paper?” the press agent asked.
Smiling on the inside because things were checking off just like I’d planned, I uttered, “Sure.”
Jason hugged up to me and wrapped his arm around my back as if we were old friends.
Step one of plan A was accomplished—make the news media.
We sat at the bar of a nearby hotel he was pretending to stay at. “That went well.” His smile was beautiful, but when the corners of his lips turned up, it was more calculating.
“Yep.”
“The engagement party is on Saturday. Do you think we should go out another night this week to a place where you’ll be seen?”
“Oh yeah, good idea. How ’bout dinner at my place with my neighbor friends? My son will be with his dad on Wednesday night.”
He lifted his glass of scotch to mine. “I’ll toast to that. In fact, let’s grab a selfie while we’re at it.” He shot the photo and captioned it, “Cheers to a new friend” before tagging me in the photo.
Gigolo. Who’d ever thought I’d hire a professional escort?
The reality of what I was doing made me nervous. “I better get home and tuck Ty in,” I said, stepping down from the stool.
“There’s a matter of business we need to address.”
Lifting my head to meet his blue eyes, I studied his features. He was even more delectable in person and reminded me of a younger Dylan McDermott. “Business?” I’d already advanced him thousands of dollars.
He lifted my chin and lowered his lips to mine. The first kiss tingled. I giggled, feeling out of place. When he went for the second, he paused deliberately. It was deeper, and I responded by leaning into him and gripping the lapel of his jacket, begging him not to stop. After pulling back, he ran his fingers across my lips and searched my eyes. I saw the desire, chemistry that couldn’t be bought. In our last kiss, our tongues tangled, and my body responded to him, defying my brain of the opportunity to remind me of inappropriate conduct.
Complicated on 5th Avenue: 5th Avenue Romance Series, Book Two Page 10
