Page 5 of Hired Husband

“Nicole.” I shrugged. “She’s taking me to some new club opening.”

Deja groaned. “That girl really doesn’t have a lick of responsibility, does she? How is she always spending all night at some club?”

“It’s called being popular.”

“No, it’s called being spoiled,” Deja countered, then sighed. “Fine. I’ll make sure we’re home by eight, but do me a favor and don’t get into any trouble on your first night back, okay?”

“Me?” I batted my eyelashes, feigning innocence. “I never get into any trouble.”

“Those are famous last words coming from someone who seems to attract it.” She turned back to the kettle and filled our cups.

For the next few hours, I got caught up with her, teased Colin, avoided my father as much as possible, ate my body weight in delicious French fries, and then, finally, I slipped out of the house at exactly nine. We’d dropped Dad off at the condo after dinner, which meant it was only Deja’s eyes I felt watching me when I saw Nicole’s headlights turn up the drive.

“Be safe,” she said, looking over from where she was tucked against Colin’s side on the couch. “Stay in touch with me tonight. I don’t want to go to bed wondering if you’re still alive.”

“I doubt you’ll be thinking of me at all when you go to bed,” I teased, winking at her before I opened the door and made a run for Nicole’s fancy little sports car.

The passenger window rolled down as I headed toward her, my friend leaning across the interior to grin at me. “Please tell me you’re wearing something skimpy under that coat!”

I smirked, unzipping the light, long jacket as I opened the door. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. Don’t I always?”

Tossing the jacket behind my seat, I hopped in and quickly slammed the door behind me before Deja could see the crop top I had on with my skin-tight jeans. Nicole howled with laughter as she peeled out the drive.

“You look incredible,” she said. “I just don’t understand why you have to hide it.”

“I don’t have to. I simply choose to.” Sometimes. “You look great, too.”

She put her palm flat under her dainty chin and batted her long, pitch black lashes at me. “Naturally. I don’t know any other way to look.”

I laughed, but I also knew she wasn’t joking. Nicole was stunning, with waist-length, platinum-blonde hair, massive green eyes, and an ass to kill for. The girl could wear a plastic bag and make it look like high fashion.

Relaxing into my seat, I turned up the volume of her radio and we both started shouting along to a new pop song as she wound her way through traffic like it wasn’t even there. Already feeling free for the first time in months, I did a little dance in my seat, running my fingers through my hair and soaking up the feeling of being back in Chicago—in late summer this time, when the weather wasn’t trying to kill me.

Fifteen minutes later, we rolled up in front of the newest nightclub in the city and flashbulbs exploded at the sight of Nicole’s car. She screeched to a stop at the end of a short red carpet, turning to grin at me. “Are you ready?”

“Aren’t I always?”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and drew in a deep breath. Leaving her keys in the ignition, she reached for the door handle. “Then let’s go, babe. I can’t wait for you to meet Lucas!”

Before I could even ask who that was, she was out of the car and quietly threatening the valet before flashing the cameras a megawatt smile. I joined her moments later, slipping my arm around hers and pretending I could see where we were going.

The cameras nearly blinded me, but I kept a smile pasted firmly on my lips, posing with her like we’d done dozens of times before. If Dad saw these pictures, I’d get yet another lecture about inappropriate clothing, but it would still be worth it for the rush of adrenaline I got from being in front of these cameras.

It wore off quickly, though. Thankfully, Nicole didn’t linger much longer either, dragging me through a set of doors that led us straight into the club. Music pulsed through the dimly lit interior, strobe lights crashing into my eyes every so often as we crossed the stunning, brand-new space.

Towering steel beams had been left exposed overhead, old brick walls left untouched. It was trendy and gorgeous, and yet, I was bored before I was even handed a drink I hadn’t ordered. Nicole seemed to know everyone, stopping to chat at least a dozen times while keeping a firm grip on my arm.

I muttered greetings, but part of me definitely would’ve preferred to have been eating ice cream on the couch with my sister. What is wrong with me?

This had been happening more and more often, the scene I used to live for suddenly just feeling old. As Nicole dragged me toward yet another group of people I had no interest in talking to, I looked around the club in general, hoping to spot something or someone who could distract me.

Unfortunately, the only person I found capable of doing that was none other than Isaac Thayer. My eyes narrowed immediately, but the man’s face didn’t change.

It was definitely him, sitting comfortably perched in the raised VIP section overlooking the dance floor, laughing at something one of the guys with him must’ve said. He had one arm stretched casually across the back of the booth, that dark blond head thrown back in amusement.

I sighed, about to turn back to Nicole to ask her if we could go somewhere else when he glanced across the room and ended up looking straight at me. Our eyes met, and for one odd second, neither of us looked away. Isaac smiled and lifted a hand, curling two fingers in a motion that obviously meant he wanted me to come upstairs.

The audacity.