Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Harrison’s arm slid around my hip, pulling me close to his side. I tried not to think it was in response to his friend’s tone and suggestion. Like he was being protective and possessive at the same time.
“Charles, Dan, Mitch, this is my wife, Layna.”
I swear you could see Charles deflate at the information. Like he really thought there was a sum high enough for me to sleep with him. Maybe, in his world, there was.
“Your wife?” Dan, a reed-thin man around Harrison’s age, asked. “That’s news.”
“I didn’t get an invite to the bachelor party, did you?” Mitch, a middle-aged man with charmingly bouncy jowls, asked. Everything about him came off as light and fun.
“Right. Like your wife would have let you go,” Charles teased.
“I could go. So long as there weren’t strippers,” Mitch said. “I don’t need any naked ladies other than my own.”
Charles made a face that Mitch didn’t see but made me immediately sorry for Charles’s wife.
“I know the feeling,” Harrison said, pulling me a little closer, making me worry about the security of the tape that was keeping the dress from exposing my breasts. Though maybe a nip slip might help my whole mission here.
“Well, maybe if all our wives looked like yours…” Charles said.
“How did I not hear about this?” Mitch asked. I got the impression that maybe he and Harrison went back a while. Maybe since their school or college years. Two rich kids who became richer adults.
“Well, it’s just so new, isn’t it, sweetie pie?” I asked, laying it on cloyingly sweet.
Harrison’s lips twitched. Almost like he knew I was up to something. But he didn’t call me on it.
“She’s right. It’s only been a few weeks. And we’ve been… busy.”
“I’ll bet you have,” Charles chuckled. It took actual work not to grimace.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Valentine,” Mitch said, giving me a sweet, fatherly smile. “I’m hoping I can coax you to come to my house for dinner when you’re free. My Marg is a great cook.”
To that, Charles mumbled something under his breath that everyone else pretended to ignore. About Mitch’s wife. In particular, her size.
Well.
I was not of the tongue-biting variety.
It was another way I did not fit into this world.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” I asked, keeping my tone saccharine even as my eyes bore into Charles.
“Nothing,” he said, immediately looking red.
“I thought you might have said something about Marg,” I said. Across from me, Dan tugged at his collar. I could feel Mitch’s gaze on me, but couldn’t make out the look in his eye without taking mine off of Charles.
“Think you misheard me,” Charles said. He was already sweating at his hairline.
“You know, I really don’t believe I did,” I said, tone slipping from sweet to sour in a blink. “It’s quite an… ironic thing to say,” I said, letting my gaze slide down his body.
Normally, I hated body-shaming. But this was a throwing-stones-in-glass-houses kind of situation. And I wasn’t going to let him get away with insulting a woman in my presence.
Harrison’s fingers tightened on my hip. I wasn’t sure if it was involuntary… or if it was a silent warning about my behavior.
“Mitch, I would love to get an invite,” I said, back to sweet as I looked at him.
“Marg makes the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had,” Harrison said.
“I love chocolate,” I said, turning myself away from Charles to engage fully with Mitch.
I knew it was rude.
I didn’t care.
I spent the next ten minutes talking to Mitch about how he met his wife, what their children were up to, and where they were going on vacation this summer.
“Valentine,” Charles piped in, his tone forceful. “Can I have a word?”
I could feel his gaze on me, knew that the word he wanted to have was about me.
“How about I get your lovely wife a drink?” Mitch offered.
“I’d appreciate that,” Harrison said, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before releasing me.
Mitch offered me his arm. I went ahead and took it and let myself get led away.
“I appreciate it more than you can know, but you probably shouldn’t have done that.”
“I hate a bully,” I admitted. “But why shouldn’t I have?”
“Charles and Harrison have been trying to broker a deal for almost a year now. It’s been… difficult.”
And I just insulted Charles.
There was a stab of regret before I reminded myself that proving I didn’t belong was the point of this. And, yes, that Harrison would still be insanely wealthy even if the deal did fall through.
“I don’t care what kind of deal they have going on; he shouldn’t have said anything about your wife.”
“I hate to admit it, but it’s not uncommon,” Mitch told me as we moved closer to the bar. “If you haven’t noticed, there are very specific beauty standards for women around here.”