Chapter Sixteen #2
Because now she understood Lenny. Avery was her crack.
She arranged her hair into a messy bun and threw on the makeup she’d salvaged—a palate of eye shadow, some mascara, and there was just enough foundation left in the bottle to cover her freckles. But nothing could hide the dark circles under her eyes.
A knock sounded at the door just before it opened. “Jo?”
She recognized the soft feminine voice. What was Charlotte doing here? Was this another family gathering?
Jo turned from the mirror. “Hey.”
Wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and sandals, Charlotte still managed to come off like a runway model. She stepped into the room. “I brought you some things. We’re around the same size so they should fit.”
Jo swallowed the humiliation rising to suffocate her. It was bad enough that anyone else knew what happened, but now, she was a charity case? Still, she didn’t want to be rude or ungrateful.
She took the sack from Charlotte and set it on the bench at the foot of Avery’s bed. “Thank you, but you really didn’t have to do that. I’m about to go shopping.”
“I know. We’re going to have so much fun.”
“We?”
“Yes.” Charlotte looped her arm through Jo’s and led her from the bedroom. “You, me, Melody, Kate, and Brooke.”
“Brooke?” How did Charlotte know Brooke?
The answer stared back at her from the doorway of his office and followed her and Charlotte into the living space. Food of every sort—fruit, veggies, dip, sandwiches—covered the giant island. Kate and Brooke were snacking.
Melody poured orange juice and champagne into a fluted glass and handed it to Jo. “Party time.”
Still confused, Jo glanced back the way they’d come. Avery leaned against the wall, wearing a smug grin, as well as a jacket and tie that said without words he wasn’t sticking around. This was his M.O., well-intended surprises and watching them unfold.
She hated being surprised. Hated feeling out of control.
Except when he touches you.
When she turned around again, Brooke was coming in for a hug that soothed some of the anxiety squeezing her chest.
“What’s all this?” Jo whispered.
“Don’t freak out. Just roll with it.”
They broke apart, and Brooke motioned toward the living room. Furniture had been rearranged, and four other women waited next to several racks of clothes. Jo could tell without label-searching that each piece cost more than one fake date with Avery.
“Walk me to the door?” His hand captured hers. He mock bowed to the others. “Ladies, have a good time.”
Jo set her glass on the corner of the island and let him drag her to the front door. He stopped short of opening it and pulled her in close. “Okay, Legs, you look like you’re about to explode, so let’s have it.”
Certain all eyes were trained on them, she ignored the queasiness roiling in her stomach, fiddled with the lapel of his suit jacket, and pasted on a smile. “The gesture is sweet, and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but you should have asked. I have a lot to do today.”
“This wasn’t my idea. Melody and Charlotte wanted to do something nice for you. You’re right, though. I should have checked with you first.”
“I thought you didn’t want me spending time with your family.”
“I don’t.” He cupped the side of her face. “But, Jo, you need this. You need to decompress and have some fun.”
“I don’t have time for fun. I have an order to fill, which means shopping for supplies and prep time.
I need to find a new place to live and clothes I can afford.
I’m a thrift store shopper. I could buy a whole new wardrobe for the cost of one pair of jeans from those racks.
” She dropped her forehead to his chest. “I’m trying to start my life over. ”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” She looked up at him, one brow raised. “But a fashion show? Really?”
“You’ve got a lot on your plate, so you’ve probably forgotten, but we have a lot of events coming up, two this weekend, so I thought you could save time by getting everything you needed in one day. You know, kill the whole flock with one stone.”
The charity gala for the children’s hospital and his company picnic—they’d totally slipped her mind. “I’m a shitty fake girlfriend.”
He smiled. “Look, I might be able to get out of tomorrow night. Saturday’s a must. But I’m sure everyone will understand you aren’t up for either. So if you don’t want to do this, we can schedule it for another time.”
She glanced at the group of staring women who’d pulled all this together and taken time out of their day to be here for her while she was being an ungrateful whiny bitch. “No, I’m sorry. It’s fine. I can go later for supplies. Everything else can wait.”
“How about this? You send me a list of what you need for your order, and I’ll have them delivered.”
“You don’t have time for that.” But the offer and just knowing he’d actually do it was just another reason she needed to find her own place or, at the very least, be here as little as possible. She was not his responsibility.
“That’s what Zach is for.”
“Who’s Zach?”
“My admin. He lives to serve.”
“He might serve you, but I’m not asking your admin to do my job.”
“Technically, I’d be asking.”
“Avery.”
“I know, I know. You have control issues.” He brushed his thumb across her jaw. “We’ll unpack that later.”
She lowered her gaze to his mouth, let it rest a few seconds, then looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “I thought we were doing other things later.”
He groaned and swooped down for a steamy kiss she should have been embarrassed by but wasn’t. She loved every thrust of his tongue and the hand at her back, the one in her hair. He tasted of coffee and toothpaste and passion. If her panties weren’t wet before, they were now.
“Text me if you get overwhelmed,” he breathed against her lips.
“Isn’t that why you invited Brooke?”
One hand on the door, the other lingering on her cheek, he winked. “I’m smart like that.”
Then he was gone, and when she turned around, she was met with four sappy grins. Brooke was even misty-eyed, and she knew the truth, for Christ’s sake.
Yeah, I gotta get out of here soon, or I might start to think this is real.
As she joined them, she grabbed her drink and tossed it back like a shot. “Let’s do this.”
****
Jo’s phone buzzed as one of the three models disappeared behind a screen and another took her place.
Avery: How’s it going?
How was it going?
She giggled. He’d been right. She needed a time out—a little girl time, a little booze, a lot of shopping. She’d lost track of how many mimosa’s Melody had shoved into her hand and how much of his money she’d spent, and they were only halfway through the list of upcoming events.
Jo: You are so going to regret leaving me here with these fashionistas and your credit card.
She’d also had a little time for store-dashing. Panties, bras, a couple of shirts, and a new pair of jeans were set for delivery at the end of the day. And she’d placed her order with the bakery supply. That would arrive any minute. So yeah, it was going well.
The anorexic blonde model made a turn in front of the group, and Jo caught the bottom of a scarlet gown as it unfurled like flames at her feet.
“That’s definitely Jo,” Charlotte purred.
“For the museum benefit,” Melody added.
Jo shook her head, her eyes glued to the screen, pathetically waiting for Avery’s next text. “Redheads can’t wear red.”
Avery: It’ll be worth it if the dress you wear gives me access to your pretty
Heat pooled in her cat emoji. Fuck, he was bad.
“No, no, no.” The woman running the show moved into her periphery. “Who told you that?”
“My grandma.” About a billion times.
Jo: What? You don’t like a challenge?
“Your grandmother was a smart cookie,” Brooke piped in with a hiccup, “but she didn’t know fashion.”
Jo snorted. “No more mimosas for you.”
“Actually, it’s a common myth,” the woman continued. “This shade of red would be striking with your fair skin and auburn hair.”
And you’ll say anything for a hefty commission.
“Avery will love it,” Kate added.
Charlotte laughed. “He’ll love taking it off her.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll try it on.” Anything to shut them up. His texts were hot enough. She didn’t need them stoking the fire.
Avery: You’re enough challenge already.
Another text rolled in.
Letty: I was wondering if you wanted to ride together tomorrow to deliver Mrs. Rossi’s order. I have plenty of room in my van, and it’s refrigerated.
Jo: I’d love to. I’m at Avery’s.
Letty: I have the address. About 2?
Jo: I’ll be ready.
Brooke’s elbow connected with Jo’s arm, jostling the phone. “Stop sexting with Avery and pay attention.”
“For your information, I’m texting Letty.”
“Who’s Letty?” Kate asked.
“Ha!” Brooke set her empty glass on the table. “Only the florist who saved Avery’s ass after his dick move at the club Saturday night.”
Jo rolled her eyes and moved Brooke’s glass to the end table before Melody could refill it. “I told you, he didn’t do anything wrong.”
Melody’s brow dove into a V, her dark eyes full of concern. “We were all pretty ticked at him until we saw the club footage.”
“Bryce showed me,” Kate said, studying the next dress, a strapless cocktail, “and I felt so bad for not believing him.”
Brooke swung back to Jo. “You didn’t tell me there was footage.”
“I haven’t watched it.” Jo picked up her drink and took a sip to keep from saying something she would regret.
“Seriously?”
“He said he didn’t do anything. I didn’t need more than that.”
The room grew quiet, and she felt a little guilty for making them feel uncomfortable, but they were his family. They were supposed to believe in him and rally behind him. But maybe no family was perfect, hers least of all.
Brooke shook her head. “You ask me, he shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”
What the fuck? I’m going to kill her.
“Why not?” Jo shrugged. “We’d only been out a couple of times. We weren’t exclusive.”
“Weren’t?” Charlotte’s brow lifted.
Jo shrugged. “I just mean we talked about it after that, but honestly, we’re still just having fun.”
“I’ve known Avery for a long time,” Charlotte continued. “He doesn’t date for fun. He doesn’t date at all, and the fact he agreed to an exclusive relationship while you’re this new is big.”
Oh my god, she’s like a dog with a bone, and I’m the one digging a hole to bury it in.
Time to change the subject. “It’s not—
Kate gasped and latched on to Brooke’s hand. “Did you say florist?”
Thank you, Kate, but yeah, I’m definitely hiding the booze and collecting keys.
Brooke frowned, as if trying to recall that particular thread of the conversation. “Yeah, why?”
Melody perked up, her head swiveling from Kate to Brooke and then to Charlotte.
“I’m looking for one.” Charlotte chuckled. “Sorry, I know it’s not funny, but my florist passed Sunday, and her family is closing the shop. Marcus is worried it’s a bad sign.”
“Sounds like divine intervention. Letty does beautiful work.” Brooke glanced at Jo. “I went by her shop yesterday to get flowers for a shoot.”
“A shoot?” Melody practically bounced on the sofa.
Jo saw where this was going. “Brooke’s a photographer. Quite talented.”
Melody looked at Charlotte again, who simply smiled and held up her glass. “To divine intervention.”
Brooke giggled. “Did your photographer drop dead, too?”
Charlotte shook her head. “I hadn’t found one I liked who wasn’t booked. We should talk.”
Kate waved off the possibility of fate. “I want to hear how Letty saved Avery’s ass.”
Sitting back, Jo let Brooke relate the story of Avery’s flowergrams, smiling at her animated version, and the rest of the afternoon went off without a hitch.
She bought the red dress. It had a slit up to her kitty for Avery, barely covered her tits, and Grandma was indeed wrong about the color on her.
And about her panties. Avery hadn’t sweet talked her out of them. She’d given them to him of her own accord, and she would again tonight.
What else are you wrong about, Grandma?