Jo swallowed the humiliation rising to suffocate her. It was bad enough that anyone else knew what happened, but now, she was a charity case? Still, she didn’t want to be rude or ungrateful.
She took the sack from Charlotte and set it on the bench at the foot of Avery’s bed. “Thank you, but you really didn’t have to do that. I’m about to go shopping.”
“I know. We’re going to have so much fun.”
“We?”
“Yes.” Charlotte looped her arm through Jo’s and led her from the bedroom. “You, me, Melody, Kate, and Brooke.”
“Brooke?” How did Charlotte know Brooke?
The answer stared back at her from the doorway of his office and followed her and Charlotte into the living space. Food of every sort—fruit, veggies, dip, sandwiches—covered the giant island. Kate and Brooke were snacking.
Melody poured orange juice and champagne into a fluted glass and handed it to Jo. “Party time.”
Still confused, Jo glanced back the way they’d come. Avery leaned against the wall, wearing a smug grin, as well as a jacket and tie that said without words he wasn’t sticking around. This was his M.O., well-intended surprises and watching them unfold.
She hated being surprised. Hated feeling out of control.
Except when he touches you.
When she turned around again, Brooke was coming in for a hug that soothed some of the anxiety squeezing her chest.
“What’s all this?” Jo whispered.
“Don’t freak out. Just roll with it.”
They broke apart, and Brooke motioned toward the living room. Furniture had been rearranged, and four other women waited next to several racks of clothes. Jo could tell without label-searching that each piece cost more than one fake date with Avery.
“Walk me to the door?” His hand captured hers. He mock bowed to the others. “Ladies, have a good time.”
Jo set her glass on the corner of the island and let him drag her to the front door. He stopped short of opening it and pulled her in close. “Okay, Legs, you look like you’re about to explode, so let’s have it.”
Certain all eyes were trained on them, she ignored the queasiness roiling in her stomach, fiddled with the lapel of his suit jacket, and pasted on a smile. “The gesture is sweet, and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but you should have asked. I have a lot to do today.”
“This wasn’t my idea. Melody and Charlotte wanted to do something nice for you. You’re right, though. I should have checked with you first.”
“I thought you didn’t want me spending time with your family.”
“I don’t.” He cupped the side of her face. “But, Jo, you need this. You need to decompress and have some fun.”
“I don’t have time for fun. I have an order to fill, which means shopping for supplies and prep time. I need to find a new place to live and clothes I can afford. I’m a thrift store shopper. I could buy a whole new wardrobe for the cost of one pair of jeans from those racks.” She dropped her forehead to his chest. “I’m trying to start my life over.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” She looked up at him, one brow raised. “But a fashion show? Really?”
“You’ve got a lot on your plate, so you’ve probably forgotten, but we have a lot of events coming up, two this weekend, so I thought you could save time by getting everything you needed in one day. You know, kill the whole flock with one stone.”
The charity gala for the children’s hospital and his company picnic—they’d totally slipped her mind. “I’m a shitty fake girlfriend.”
He smiled. “Look, I might be able to get out of tomorrow night. Saturday’s a must. But I’m sure everyone will understand you aren’t up for either. So if you don’t want to do this, we can schedule it for another time.”
She glanced at the group of staring women who’d pulled all this together and taken time out of their day to be here for her while she was being an ungrateful whiny bitch.“No, I’m sorry. It’s fine. I can go later for supplies. Everything else can wait.”
“How about this? You send me a list of what you need for your order, and I’ll have them delivered.”
“You don’t have time for that.” But the offer and just knowing he’d actually do it was just another reason she needed to find her own place or, at the very least, be here as little as possible. She was not his responsibility.
