Escorting the Billionaire - Part 1

Except he wasn’t.

I looked up in the mirror and fixed my hair. I put some lip gloss on. I sprayed breath freshener into my mouth five times and straightened my shoulders. Think about Tommy, I reminded myself, and that calmed me down. My brother needed me, and no matter what I felt about James, no matter how hard and how fast I wanted to run away from him—or toward him, I still wasn’t sure which—I was going to stay put.

For Tommy, I told myself. I didn’t let myself think anything other than that.

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of co**cktails, delicious food, and curious stares from Evie, Cole, and Mr. and Mrs. Preston.

I smiled and ignored the stares. I held hands with James and ignored the battling feelings of desire and impending doom that raged on inside me. He talked to me like I was his girlfriend, and I answered him like he was my boyfriend. I ate the delicious food and pretended to care about the details of the wedding, which were discussed in minute detail by Evie and her cousins, who were her bridesmaids.

Finally, it was over. The party was breaking up, and James pulled me away. “We don’t have to say goodbye,” he said. “Let’s just head out. We’ll be seeing them all in twelve hours anyway.”

“Great,” I said and laughed weakly. His highfalutin family was exhausting. His mother had watched us all through dinner, and had clearly taken notice of the hand-holding.

“I know—I told you they were as**sholes, right? Let me just go outside and call Kai. He’ll be here in two minutes, and then we can go.” James squeezed my shoulder, and I stood inside the door, watching him stride outside in his gorgeous suit and tap on his fancy phone.

He was only gone for a second when I felt someone nearby. I turned and jumped a little: Cole Bryson had snuck up on me.

“Hey, Cole,” I said. My tone was friendly even though I only felt reluctant at his proximity. He was looking at me the way most men looked at me. But most men weren’t my date’s best friend.

“Hello, Audrey,” he said. He gave me a wide smile. Cole was rich, tall, and muscular. His black, perfectly gelled wavy hair glinted above his forehead and his green eyes. He had a large, square jaw. He was a physically stupendous specimen.

He was smiling at me as though I was his next meal—a juicy piece of meat roasting on the grill—and he just couldn’t wait to put a spear in me and make me a Cole-Bryson-dick-shish kebab.

I wished Jenny was here so I could throw her at him. Then she could have her own billionaire, and Cole could just leave me alone with mine.

“James is calling for the car,” I said nervously. He was so close but just out of reach, right outside the door.

“I know,” Cole said. He lazily leaned up against the wall next to me. “He told me about you, you know.”

My heart stopped. But I didn’t let my face betray me.

“Really? What did he say?”

“I know why you’re here,” Cole said. “I know he hired you. He never could stand to be alone with his family. But he also told me things aren’t physical between you two. That’s why you should come home with me tonight. And I’m not saying this to be an as**shole—I’m saying it to help.”

I felt sick, but I looked up at him with as much indignation as I could manage. “You’re not saying it to be an as**shole, Cole? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he said, smiling at me. “It’s a business proposition. You fill my need, I’ll fill yours. You come home with me tonight, and I’ll pay you your regular fee. And James will still be paying you. You’ll make a tidy profit. It’s like a twofer.”

He leaned over me, looking triumphant—as if he had just solved all our problems. He was ready for his shish kebab. Cole Bryson was a successful, gorgeous man, and he was used to getting what he wanted. I had the feeling “no” wasn’t a word he often heard. He smiled down at me, and I winced. The problem was, I didn’t know if James wanted me to say no to him.

“Don’t say no to a tidy profit,” he said. “You’ll break my venture-capitalist heart.”

I felt as though I was going to throw up. “Did James say this was okay?” I asked, my voice small. I held my breath until he answered.

“No,” Cole admitted. “I didn’t run it by him yet. But James isn’t exactly sentimental.”

My heart was pounding in my chest, hard, when I heard the door open behind me.

“It’s true, I’m not sentimental,” James said, coming toward us.

I held my breath a little longer and felt the blood drain from my face. I had a feeling this was about to go very, very badly.