Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

and the door opened.

Three people I didn’t know were standing there clearing their throats.

I dropped her leg.

Leah said, “Good morning!” in a cheerful voice as we maneuvered past them.

“How is your ankle?” I asked her, belatedly remembering to be a decent human being instead of a lust-driven cretin.

“It’s much better. Swelling is almost gone and it doesn’t hurt. I skipped the heels today though.”

“Probably wise.” I opened the door for her and gestured to the right. “Andre is waiting for us.” I had explained the situation to my driver and had given him a generous bonus to keep his mouth shut.

Leah got in the car and turned to me. “Did you read all my answers? Did I pass the test?”

“It wasn’t a test. Just fact-gathering.”

“Why did I have to tell you my biggest fear but that wasn’t on yours?”

Because there was no way in hell I was going to reveal to Leah that my biggest fear was that no one could or would love me. That I was going to die alone someday. Fuck that. That nasty thought was staying buried deep down, behind the broken heart at twenty and the devastation and anger at twelve when my parents had fired my nanny. Nope. Wasn’t going to wade through the emotional shit pile of my past.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” I said. That was mostly true. I didn’t have phobias other than shoes in the house and I wasn’t afraid of anything other than the Shit I Wasn’t Going to Talk About.

“Ooh, tough guy,” she said. “Cool. I get it. Feelings aren’t trending with you.”

“You didn’t exactly give me a real answer either, by the way.”

“Yes, I did,” she protested. “I am terrified of cockroaches.”

“No cockroaches in Buffalo?”

“Not a single one.”

When we got to the Chanel flagship, a staff member was waiting for us. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Caldwell. We have the fifth floor ready for you.” She held her hand out to Leah. “I’m Vivian. I’m here to help you with whatever you need.”

“I’m Leah, it’s nice to meet you. Thank you.” Leah put her hand into mine as she looked around the first floor of the store in awe.

I squeezed her hand to reassure her. I didn’t want her to feel overwhelmed or awkward.

I shouldn’t have worried. Leah was taking it all in, but she looked more excited than nervous. Upstairs in a private client room she happily took the champagne they offered her and sat on a plush sofa. “What happens now? Do angels glide in and sew haute couture on me? Or maybe forest animals like Cinderella?”

“Something like that. Though this is just ready-to-wear, not couture.” I turned to Vivian. “Can you bring day options for a weekend in the Hamptons? Leah is meeting my parents for the first time. Nothing red. I want her to wear red for a party Saturday night.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Caldwell.”

Vivian left the room and I eyed Leah. She was smiling and looking mischievous as she sipped her champagne.

“What?” I asked her.

“You’re very cute when you’re being powerful.”

“Don’t say shit like that. It’s wrong. Cute and powerful don’t belong in the same sentence.” I sat down next to her and unbuttoned my suit jacket. I put my arm on the sofa behind her, planning to settle in.

“Do I have to model for you?”

“Yes. I get final approval on what to buy, obviously.” I tugged the back of her hair teasingly because all those lush dark waves were way too tempting not to touch. “I won’t buy anything you hate.” It was hard to believe that I barely knew Leah. Being around her felt completely natural.

“This champagne is delicious,” she said, taking another sip. “Cut me off after two glasses or I’ll be drunk at Valentino.”