Escorting the Groom (The Escort Collection 4)

She straightened, her cheeks heated. "Suit yourself."

"Are we done?"

"Not quite." She pursed her lips and adjusted the top of her dress, putting her boobs away. "I can always go to the press about my sister and her questionable work history. Or your dad. Or your work partners. Or whoever will listen to me. I'd gladly take money in exchange for my silence."

"Done," I said.

Chelsea looked stunned. "Really?"

"Really."

"What's the catch?"

"You'll have to sign an airtight confidentiality agreement and a contract with me," I said. "This is a one and done, Chelsea. I give you this money, and you agree to walk away forever. You can't come back and ask me for more, because there won't be any. And you have to leave Blake alone for good. No more threats. Understand?"

She nodded, her eyes glittering. "How much money?"

"More, much more than you deserve. Enough to pay your tuition and get you settled in New York. Enough to keep you comfortable for years to come, provided you don't blow it. But if you contact the press or take any other steps to harm your sister, I'm coming after you with an army of attorneys. We'll take your money and whatever possessions you have and leave you on the street—literally. Sound fair?"

She nodded quickly, as if she were afraid I would change my mind. "S-sure."

"Fine. Wait in the next room. I'll have my attorney prepare the documents right now. You'll be on your way with a check before the close of business."

She opened her mouth and then, thankfully, closed it. I buzzed Shirley and had Chelsea removed to a waiting room far from my sight. Sister act, indeed.

Then I called my attorney and started the process to have Blake’s leech of a sister removed from her side. Forever.

Chapter Twenty

Blake

Running on the treadmill helped clear my head. Afterward, as I stood underneath the hot water from the shower, I realized what I needed to do: just be there for Lucas. He'd been tense for the last few weeks, struggling with work, then I'd gone and thrown the episode with my sister at him.

He'd only been trying to help. What he maybe didn't understand was that I'd wanted him to just hold me, let me complain about Chelsea, and stroke my hair. I’d wanted him to go to the gym with me and let me rail against my sister some more. I'd wanted him to act like my husband—a normal, mere mortal one—not an alpha CEO billionaire fixer of all things.

But that was exactly who he was.

What I'd said to him about his personality was what I believed to be the truth. It was also completely inappropriate for me to have spoken to him like that. He was my fake husband, not my real one. I would do well to remember that. I'd found myself staring at the way my engagement ring sparkled in the sunlight one too many times lately, and I'd been inhaling his scent from the T-shirts he tossed casually on the floor of our room. I'd caught myself wondering what it would be like if this assignment could last forever.

But Lucas was my client, and it was my job to make him happy. So I quickly dried off, braided my hair, and threw on a dress. I decided to head to his office to say that I was sorry about my rogue mouth, and to see if he could sneak out to have dinner with me in the North End. Maybe we could even go back to Mio Fratello and have that olive-and-pasta appetizer.

I might even share with him.

Ian pulled up outside of Lucas's building in the Financial District. "I'll circle the block until you text me." He shot me a grin and rolled the window up, waiting until I was safely on the sidewalk before merging back into the light evening traffic. Ian had seemed a lot happier since we'd abandoned my sister at The Palm this afternoon.

Hope lit up my heart as I went into the lobby. Even though I knew the truth about our relationship, I still got a little thrill when I was about to see my handsome husband. But that thrill turned into a near heart attack as the elevator doors opened and Chelsea exited them.

She sashayed across the lobby and my jaw dropped.

I jumped back against a dark-paneled wall and hid behind a potted tree so she couldn't see me. What the hell? She was wearing a skin-tight dress and the pushiest of all push-up bras. She was also wearing a cat-that-just-ate-the-canary smile, and had a little extra jiggle in her step that made me cringe.

What was she doing there?

My stomach plummeted as I ran through the options. She was here to ask Lucas for money. She was here to hit on Lucas. She was here to ask Lucas for money and hit on him. Whatever it was, she had gotten what she wanted. I could tell that much from her saucy walk as she passed through the revolving doors.

Lucas had given her what she wanted without asking me. And whether that was money, attention, or something even worse—he had broken my trust.

I hadn't even realized that I'd trusted him until that point.