Arranged(26)

I listened to him breathing through the phone for a solid minute. He was really going through something on the other end. A rage or a temper tantrum, I couldn’t decide which and I wasn’t sure what the difference was.

“Only one of them was straight,” I finally added.

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he snapped. “I want you to start showing some decorum on the job. Some modesty. Change behind a curtain, wear a robe when you need to. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

I hung up and handed Chester’s phone back to him.

“So now I have a changing room dress code?” I asked sarcastically. I wanted to cry, but I thought I was hiding it well.

Chester sighed. “You do, Duchess.” He didn’t have to say it but we both thought it. This was the life I’d signed on for.

It was hours before it dawned on me what it all really meant. What I’d done and my husband’s reaction. It had been hostile, volatile, and quick.

He couldn’t stand me, but he wasn’t immune. He kept closer track of me than I’d realized, and he’d just shown me how to get a rise out of him, one that made him incapable of ignoring me.

It was an advantage.





CHAPTER





ELEVEN





When the day came around I was in no mood to go out with Millie Bancroft and a bunch of rich girls I didn’t know and had nothing in common with.

I was dreading it, but I knew I had to go. It had been a direct order.

I’d been trying to rally myself to get ready for the evening ahead for the last half hour.

I was sitting in my living room watching E! with Jovie and the guys when the doorbell rang.

Vincent answered it, and I was surprised when three familiar faces filed in.

My husband had sent my regular hair and makeup girls and my personal shopper with an outfit picked out specifically for this outing.

He didn’t want me to embarrass him by looking a mess in front of his friends. I supposed I couldn’t blame him since I’d been planning to do the very bare minimum to get ready.

My glam team did the opposite of that. They did me up like I was about to walk a red carpet.

My hair was twisted into an artfully messy topknot. My foundation was light, my eye makeup heavy, and my lips were painted a soft matte nude.

My outfit was a tiny, high-waisted, cream micro mini skirt paired with a boat-necked gold sequin crop top that bared my midriff. Gold hoop earrings and tan stilettos finished the look.

The overall effect was very over twenty-one sex kitten.

“I’m coming with you,” Jovie said. Our eyes met in my oversized vanity mirror. She’d been there the whole time, nicely distracting me while my team got me ready.

I loved having her around in general, but I’d noticed an added perk to it recently. Asha seemed to disappear more when Jovie was around. It was wonderful.

“You can’t,” I told her reasonably. “You’re not old enough.

“Neither are you.”

“Yes, but Chester will get me in, and he’s already specifically told you no.”

“You shouldn’t have to face those barracudas alone.”

“I’m not altogether sure that they’re barracudas.” I was pretty sure though.

“Fine. You shouldn't have to face those prissy society princesses alone.”

They were that. “They might be nice. It’s not their fault they were all born rich.”

She begrudgingly agreed but her parting words were, “My phone is glued to my hand. The second you text me for help, I’m coming, even if I have to wrestle a bouncer to get in.”

That had me walking out the door with a laugh, but it died as we took the elevator down to the garage. I was still unaccountably nervous about getting in the door due to my age. It would save me having to go, though, so it wouldn’t be all bad. Just embarrassing as hell if I was turned away.

“What if there are paparazzi, and they catch me going into an over twenty-one club?” I asked Chester as he handed me into the car. “Won’t that look bad?”

He got in beside me before he answered. “Your husband’s friend owns the club,” he explained to me. “And there’s a back entrance. You don’t need to worry about stuff like that, Duchess. That’s my job.”

“I’ve never been to a club before,” I confessed. “The closest thing I’ve done were a few modeling parties, but they really weren’t for me. They were all about networking and they’re intense. I started avoiding those things early on.”

“Just try to relax and have fun,” Chester encouraged. “You’re off the clock tonight.”

I couldn’t think how to respond to that. This outing was not about me having fun. I’d basically been ordered to go hang out with strangers. And didn’t he know by now that I was always on the clock?

We arrived at the venue and Chester escorted me easily through the back door security and straight to Millie’s VIP booth. It was a big booth, with enough room for at least twenty people.

And there was no one there.

A dark-haired waitress was waiting there. She greeted me with a big smile, introducing herself. She was wearing black boy shorts, a white crop top that hit her mid-boob, and platform boots that had to be at least six inches high. She was pretty, but her makeup was caked on and her fake tan was a few shades beyond excessive. She asked me what I wanted to drink.