Bronwyn shimmied her shoulders as she did a turn. “Oh, I think they already left, Jack.”
Jackie stopped dancing. “Seriously! If they went into my spare bedroom to get it on, I’m going to kill them.”
“No worries,” Mya interjected, still holding her margarita as she twirled on the dance floor, her bright, ginger-blonde afro a halo around her. “Your sheets are definitely safe. Matter of fact, they mentioned something about bed shopping.”
“They left their own party to go bed shopping?” Jackie frowned, putting her hands on her hips. “Gosh, those two weirdos are made for each other. I swear.”
At that moment, Sara came onto the dance floor, fanning herself with one hand and holding an imported beer in the other. Sara was an anchor at WWSN, where Tanika worked; the two had gone from rivals to mentor-mentee over the past year. “Whew, Jackie. Girl, some of these men are relentless. I got three marriage proposals. Several dinner date offers. I had to escape that PJ Dawson who was basically trying to fly me out to Ibiza for an international booty call. He is too young. Now, the fine dude that he came with, looking like Winston Duke’s twin? That’s more my speed. Do you know him? He’s an agent, too, right?”
“Unfortunately.” Jackie rolled her eyes as she bobbed her head. “You don’t want Antonio. He’s trouble. And a whore.”
“I can do whore.” Sara moved quickly to fall in line with the group dancing. “On second thought—” She nodded toward the second bar. “You might be right. He’s over there now talking to a girl who looks much younger than me. That’s where I draw the line.”
Jackie’s neck swiveled as she peered over Sara’s shoulder to see Antonio. When she finally spotted him, her lip curled with disgust. India Inkwell, former child star turned reality-TV groupie gold digger, was all in his face. India’s barely legal ass cheeks were hanging out of her shorts, and her hand was placed firmly on Antonio’s broad chest. She was laughing so loud Jackie could hear her over the music, batting her fake eyelashes and swinging thirty inches of Malaysian hair weave. Antonio, as usual, was grinning like a fool and relishing the attention.Ugh, conceited bastard. How the hell had India gotten into Jackie’s party in the first place?
Jackie locked eyes with Antonio, who suddenly looked a bit bewildered. Anger flooded her veins. She turned on her heels, stormed off the dance floor, and headed inside her house. PeeWee was fast on her heels, following her through the patio doors and into her kitchen.
“Out!” Jackie shouted at the catering staff gathered around the island. Terrified, they dispersed, carrying trays of food outside to restock the already overflowing buffet.
Jackie leaned back against the kitchen island and took several deep breaths. She needed to calm down, but everything about Antonio aggravated the shit out of her. It shouldn’t, but it did. Why should she care what Antonio was doing or who he was talking to? Even if the woman was barely legal, cellulite-free, and probably limber. Jackie kicked her shoes off, freeing her toes from her stiletto sandals. PeeWee whimpered, lying across her manicured toes to comfort her. She smiled. PeeWee could always sense her unease. He was the only member of the male species she could count on in her life.
I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m Jackie Miles, goddamn it, Jackie silently chanted to herself, eyes closed. She wasn’t about to let Antonio Steele get under her skin. The only thing she could do was center herself, then crush any ideas of Antonio like a grape.
The thought of doing just that gave her comfort, as did the feel of PeeWee’s soft, buttery fur. Just then, the familiar smell of Dolce and Gabbana Light Blue surrounded her like an old, familiar sweater.
CHAPTER 2
There were only a few things in this world that turned Antonio Steele on more than making money.
A) a fly, short haircut,
B) a big butt, and
C) a smile, or even better, a smart mouth that could put him in his place.
Jackie Miles had all three. It made Antonio’s dick hard just thinking about it. He watched her march away from him in that denim jumpsuit, her ass bouncing in time. Did she even have on panties? He shouldn’t even be looking. But he couldn’t help it. He was drawn to Jackie like a moth to a flame, getting burned each and every time. It should be criminal to be as smart, savvy, and fine as she was. But Antonio knew Jackie was keeping him at arm’s length. She had valid reasons, but that didn’t mean Antonio had to like it.
“How long you going to keep doing this?” asked PJ, following Antonio’s line of sight.
Antonio blinked. “What are you talking about?
