“Yeah, she’s stalking me now.”
“Poor baby.”
“Do you feel up to breaching the castle of doom or shall we head for the hills?”
“Castle of doom, it is.” She turned toward the second set of steps and peered up at him with a smile that tightened his gut.
What the fuck?
“I might need to have another laugh at your expense. Maybe a few as the night progresses. You know, just to make me feel better about myself.”
“I am at your disposal.” At least for as long as it took to satisfy his family and his matchmaking mother. Because, fuck, for a minute, he’d almost forgotten why Legs was here. And that sure as hell wasn’t to tie him to her side. He was a free agent, and she was…
Not my fucking girlfriend.
****
As ballrooms went, this one was just like all the others Jo had worked in, serviceable but beautifully decorated. This time, though, she wasn’t mapping the logistics of table placement, how many steps to the kitchen, and the best inconspicuous places to stand so that she was invisible. Tonight, she felt like all eyes were on her.
Avery might have talked her off a ledge, but he’d created another in the process, and she needed to check herself. He was only being nice to keep her in the game, and earlier at her apartment… Well, that was just the player wanting to play, and maybe a battle of egos with Chase.
To put them back on an even keel, Jo slipped her fingers free of Avery’s. He turned around, concern darkening those deep brown eyes as they flickered from their parted hands to her face. He thought she was freaking out again.
She smiled to assure him, but his frown stayed in place. “Rules.”
“Right,” he said, his lips twisting into a smirk. He nodded and continued to weave through the tables toward the front where the entire Preston family waited for them.
Being late was something she tried to avoid, but right now, she wished they were running behind and could have snuckin during the program while all eyes were on the podium and talking was impossible.
Suck it up, buttercup.
Avery was stopped almost immediately. Five men stood, all of them shaking Avery’s hand while giving her curious looks, as if sizing her up. Avery ran through their names quickly, but there were too many to remember.
The subject changed to business, and Jo tried not to fidget. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, one text after another rolling in. No doubt Chase had already blabbed her misfortune to Walt.
One of the women rose to greet her, her smile genuine. “Olivia Martinelli.”
“Jo Hayes.” Jo glanced at the other women, but they were deep in conversation.
“Don’t mind them,” Olivia whispered. “They’re just part of the decoration and about as dull.” She rolled her eyes. “Nothing but arm candy.”
A nervous giggle burst from Jo before she could stop it. She shouldn’t laugh since she’d recently joined their ranks. “I hear the pay’s great.”
Maybe she should compare notes with the other two, just to make sure she was earning a fair wage. But then, the men they were here with were payment enough in and of themselves—one with an intensely sinful vibe, the other broodingly hot. Both provoked images of mayhem. Mayhem that resulted in one big O after another.
Not that Avery hadn’t offered or that she’d ever reached the big one Brooke rattled on and on about, but Jo still figuredshe was getting the better deal. Independence. Security. A heart that remained in one piece.
Okay, so there were a couple of scratches and dents. But it wasn’t broken.
“Sorry,” Olivia said, drawing Jo out of her head, “but I’ve been held hostage by a debate over the difference between flamingo pink and rose petal blush since we got here.”
“But don’t you know, that’s the hottest new conversation,” Jo said lightly tapping Olivia’s arm, the dark green acrylics Brooke had given her for Christmas shimmering. Underneath, her nails were a mess, filed down to the quick. Baking didn’t allow for French tips.
French crêpes, French macarons, French toast? Mmm, magnifique.
“Of course, what was I thinking?” Olivia teased back, her voice sing-songing as she blew on shiny black nails as if they were wet. She sighed. “The things I do for my job.”
Jo darted a glance at the tall, dark and spank-me daddy talking to Avery. “He’s your boss?”
