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“Harding has had the invitation for three days, and we haven’t heard a thing. It’s time to try something new. I’ll be attending a charity gala this evening, and Harding is expected to attend as well.” He points to Chelsea and me. “I want you two there. I want this bastard to see you together, interacting with government power players and military higher-ups. You two are to ignore Harding.”
“Wait. You don’t want us to meet Harding?” Chelsea questions.
“No,” Jameson confirms. “I’ll make sure he knows you’re there, and unless he’s an absolute dipshit, he’ll connect your names with the invitation. I’ll have a friend mention your reception and how disappointed they are that their schedule won’t allow them to go. Harding will be salivating to meet you by the time I’m finished. I’ll signal you to leave at that point. The man won’t be able to resist your offer then.”
“So, we’re playing hard to get.”
Admiral Jameson nods at me. “The man is an attention whore. It’ll drive him nuts that you aren’t begging to suck his dick. Anyway, I hope you two have your back stories ready because they’re gonna get tested tonight.”
Knot clears his throat, indicating he may not be entirely comfortable with this plan. I’m not happy with the short notice either, but if this doesn’t work and Harding doesn’t show, all the prep work we’ve done is for nothing.
“I’m sending the two of you with Birdie to pick out clothes for the evening. I wouldn’t make you do this together, except we’re on a short leash where time is concerned. You need every possible second to get in character. Once you have something suitable to wear, Birdie will bring you to my house, where my wife Trish will have stylists on hand to get you ready for the event.”
The briefing volleys back to the admiral. “My goal is to approach Harding while he’s in relative quiet, but not directly. I only want to be within hearing distance. I’ll mention seeing you and talk about your role in the family’s business Birdie detailed.” The admiral waves the sheet of paper he’s holding. “We won’t be wearing radios, so you’ll have to watch me for cues.”
Chelsea nods. “We want him sucking up to us, not the other way around.”
“Exactly. Now, get out of here,” Jameson orders before glancing at his watch. “You’ve got six hours.”
Bash turns and walks toward one of Knot’s fleet vehicles. With a salute for the admiral and my commander, I turn to follow a few steps behind Chelsea and Birdie. Birdie takes the front passenger seat, leaving Chelsea and me to take the back.
“Where to first?” Bash asks.
Birdie pecks away at her phone for a few seconds, and driving directions appear on the SUV’s navigation screen. “Trish says to go here first.”
Bastien turns out of the private hangar entrance, and Birdie turns around in her seat. “Dr. Bennett, your father owns a successful practice in your hometown in Redding. As soon as Jackson retires at the end of the year, you’ll relocate there to take over ahead of your father’s retirement. You don’t have kids. You only have work and your new cause, which is ending the scourge of warmongering PMCs.”
Chelsea gives the intel specialist a clap. “Wow, Birdie. That was good. Maybe you should be the one acting this part.”
Bash jeers. “Hell no. Especially since there’s the chance she’d have to kiss that jackass back there.”
The atmosphere inside the SUV shifts instantly. Chelsea’s eyes widen. While I’m not opposed to the possibility of tasting her lips, Chelsea looks absolutely horrified at the prospect. I don’t want her to worry about it, so I consider the possibility out loud, directing my thoughts to Chelsea. “A fancy event like this would be all about appearances. I don’t see PDA being on the list of acceptable behavior. At the most, we’re talking a peck on the cheek, and that’s likely something you’ll see a lot of between the socialite wives. You have nothing to worry about. Although, I will be expected to hold your hand or put mine on you in other small ways. We should probably work on that today.”
I hold out my hand, palm up, in silent invitation. Chelsea stares at my wriggling fingers before her eyes shoot up to Birdie, who’s discreetly turned forward in her seat again. No longer having an audience, Chelsea frowns at my hand before swiveling her neck to peer out the window. A few seconds pass, and then her hand slides across the seat to rest on mine.
I hold on, gently caressing her skin for the rest of the drive, though Chelsea doesn’t look at me again.
God, I wish she didn’t hate this.
Chelsea
God, I wish I hated this.
Why is his hand so warm? Why do my fingers fit in his so well? Why does it have to feel so good to be touched like this?
I can’t let Jackson see how much he affects me. If he sees, he’ll have sway over my emotions, and I won’t let anyone manipulate me again. So, what if you enjoy it? You still have a part to play. Be convincing. No one has to know how you really feel.
I turn slowly toward my temporary partner. Jackson’s gaze is transparent and captivating. No mocking smirk exists to make me feel needy. No mask hides a scheming mind. Even if he was being coy, Jackson can’t hurt me. I won’t let him.
I’m again secure behind my protective wall and allow my fingers to entwine with his. Jackson’s answering smile is luminous, and I almost jerk my hand away at his delighted response.
The vehicle stopping draws my eyes forward, and I’m glad to have a legitimate reason to let go of Jackson’s hand. We’re at a dress boutique, so I reach for my door handle. “So, this is Birdie and me. Where will you guys be?”
Bash puts the SUV in park and turns around. “You two need to work on being together in public and don’t need an audience,” he directs toward his best friend. To me, he mumbles, “Or a crutch.”
“What he means is that Bash and I will be waiting in the car.” Birdie hands me a black credit card bearing Knot’s name. “The attendants know you’re coming. We use them all the time. They know what we need to present and won’t steer you wrong. Just go with what you like and feel good in.”
My jaw drops. “You mean I have to shop for a dress with him?” I yelp, pointing to Jackson.
