Page 5 of Made to Order
So, I’ll just get through the night, and we can pretend like this never happened.
Our ride to the party is, thankfully, short and silent. Wade has a nice car, a really nice car. The supple leather hugs my body and the low hum of the engine almost manages to soothe my frayed nerves.
Is he doing this for the money?
He’s an amazing lawyer; he should be making enough to support himself unless he’s one of those douche nozzles who has to have the best of everything so he can show off.
But Wade never struck me as an arrogant man.
Confident, yes. Arrogant, no.
Hell, maybe he’s just doing it to get laid. That wouldn’t surprise me. He is a man, after all.
Wade fucking Saxon. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been some perfectly nice guy like Dylan? One who I don’t have to see all the time around the courthouse.
We pull up beside the valet stand outside the Art Institute. By the time the valet has assisted me out of the car, Wade is already at my side offering me a half-hearted smile.
“Shall we?” He holds his elbow out for me. I hesitate briefly.
It’s necessary, Josette.
I never thought I’d have to give myself a pep-talk to take the arm of a handsome man. One who I have noticed more than once around the courthouse. Leave it to fate to fuck with me like this. How many damn men are there in Chicago? Why does he have to be Filet Mignon?
When we reach the stairs, he removes his arm from mine and slides his hand down onto my lower back. A tingle races up my spine at the gesture. He ushers me up, and with every step, the warmth of his palm through my dress is a constant reminder of how long it’s been since I’ve had sex.
With a person, that is.
Wade halts me at the top of stairs with a hand on my shoulder. I turn to him and raise an eyebrow in silent question.
He offers an apologetic smile. “What’s our story?”
Shit, I hadn’t thought about that.
I shrug and check out the area around us to ensure no one is close enough to overhear us conspiring. “What would you suggest?”
His eyes travel down my body before returning to mine. The corner of his mouth quirks up. I’m sure the half-smile is meant to be reassuring, but instead, it sends my already starved libido galloping faster than American Pharaoh.
He takes my hand in his and kisses the back of it.
Who the hell does that anymore?
That half-smile turns into a grin. “I guess, given the circumstances, we met at the courthouse and have been seeing each other for a couple months?”
Easy. Straightforward. Believable.
I nod my agreement to the story and take his arm again.
We’re about to walk into the lion’s den. Thankfully, we’re both trained liars.
WADE
Why the hell does a woman like Josette need an escort for a work party?
Men should be lining up to spend time with her. Every male lawyer I know has a real hard-on for her. Any one of them would have given their left nut to be the man at her arm tonight.
Instead, she’s paying me…
Without need.
