Page 9 of Hired Husband

I smiled into my wine, wondering how it was that the moms always ended up drumming around the playground while the dads got to go off, playing with their sticks and balls all afternoon. Deja must’ve caught my smile because she suddenly leaned forward too.

“Isaac told me he had to drive you home from the nightclub the other night,” she said. “Care to explain what happened?”

I nearly choked on my drink. “I can’t believe he told you that.”

“Was it supposed to be a secret?”

“No, but it wasn’t like that. He didn’t have to. It’s not like I couldn’t have made my own way home. I was perfectly sober. Like I’d literally only been there for a half hour or so.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry. He didn’t make it sound like you were a mess or anything. That’s not why he told me. It’s more like he was traumatized by the experience.”

I scoffed. “Don’t let him fool you. He was happy to do it.”

Ashanti giggled. “Somehow, I doubt that. We know you, Jasmine. Which means we also know there’s a story here.”

“No story,” I insisted. “We ran into each other at the club and that’s the end of it. When I wanted to leave, I asked him to drive me and he agreed.”

Deja folded her arms loosely over her chest, wine glass still held lazily in one hand as she arched an eyebrow at me. “You asked him? Funny. You rarely ask anyone to do anything. You tell them.”

“That’s irrelevant.” I sighed before I took another sip of my wine. “He didn’t fight me on it. If anything, he looked relieved to be able to leave.”

“It’s not relevant that you essentially kidnapped him?” Ashanti asked, eyes sparkling with barely restrained laughter. “Have you heard about a little thing called Stockholm Syndrome?”

“Oh, please. He didn’t even object once. He was fine.”

Deja laughed before pointing a finger at me. “You should be nicer to Isaac, Jas. He’s a good guy.”

“I am nice to him.” I scrunched up my features. “He’s the one you should be talking to. If one of us isn’t nice to the other, it’s him. He’s a bully.”

“No, he’s not.” She chuckled, glancing toward the heavens for patience before looking back at me. “I mean it. He is genuinely a nice guy. He’s not one of those ridiculously muscled peacocks you usually collect.”

I pretended to gasp, bringing my hand up to clutch imaginary pearls. “I do not collect peacocks.”

“Fine,” Ashanti said, hiding a smile behind her glass. “They’re not peacocks, they’re idiots, and you prey on them because they worship you.”

“They’re nice to me,” I countered. “And they’re not bad to look at either. Why not keep a few around to stare at when I get bored?”

“Because you make them think they have a chance?” Deja suggested. “Anyway, peacocks, idiots, or whatever, my point is that Isaac isn’t like that.”

Unfortunately, I couldn’t argue the point because she was right. Isaac definitely wasn’t like those guys. He didn’t prance around, thumping his chest for attention or flexing his muscles in the hopes that someone would notice him.

Mostly because he didn’t need to.

People noticed him no matter what he did. He just had that rare air of understated confidence about him, a presence I could practically feel whenever he walked into a room.

As Ashanti and Deja moved on from defending Isaac’s honor, I stared out across the gardens. My mind wandered back to our drive home from the club. Surprisingly, I had some fond memories of him that night.

In the past, he and I had somehow always ended up clashing just a little bit. I didn’t think it was because we couldn’t get along or anything like that. It’d been more playful and teasing than anything else, but at the same time, it felt like we challenged each other in a way that made any exchange carry the potential to become explosive.

That night, however, it hadn’t been like that. Isaac had stepped into my orbit seamlessly at the club, quickly convincing me to come sit with them, and then highlighting my role in GlobalStar’s various enterprises like he actually respected me.

It had won him some points, for sure, but more than that, it had also just been easy to be around him. I didn’t have to try to impress him or keep up the Untouchable Model act. I didn’t have to be aloof, or dumb myself down, or any of those things I routinely did simply to keep people at arm’s length.

Instead, I’d just been able to be myself and he had seemed to appreciate that. At one red light, he’d glanced at me, one hand resting casually on top of the steering wheel, and he’d smiled, looking so gorgeous in that moment that it had been difficult to look away.

As I thought about it, the men came into view on the fairway. Dad walked beside Colin and talked with animated gestures that made it obvious he was discussing business despite being on one of the prettiest golf courses on this side of the ocean.

Isaac wandered behind them with a little cluster of Westwoods around him, laughing with the one I was sure was called Theo. It looked like they were having a good time horsing around together, and for some inexplicable reason, the sight made me smile.