Dangerous Exes (Page 20)

I nodded encouragingly. Brown hair fell across her bony shoulders, she was model thin with high cheekbones and long, jean-clad legs. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she was still in college.

“Okay.” Danica wiped another tear. “It all started a few weeks ago when I found a note in his jacket pocket, there were lipstick prints on the paper and a phone number attached. When I called it, it was just a generic voice mail. I ended the call and haven’t done anything since.”

Blaire took notes while I pulled Danica next to me and held her hand while she kept crying.

I hated what relationships did to people.

The way they destroyed souls that were meant to be united—ripping them apart in the end, ruining everything. The anger that once again burned so bright in my heart flared with each tear she shed.

How dare men think they have a right to cheat on a woman just because they’re bored? Can’t they keep it in their pants?

I was completely okay with people parting on good terms.

What wasn’t I okay with?

Liars.

I hated liars.

And her husband sounded like he was guilty of just that if her story matched up with the recon mission I was going to need to do.

I kept listening as she told me about their two kids, and they even had a family dog that was dying of cancer.

“Seriously?” I muttered under my breath as I took in all the things in her life that were being affected by her bastard of a husband’s selfish actions.

I underlined the word bastard about seventeen times before Blaire cleared her throat. I normally didn’t take notes, so she probably saw the word and needed me to refocus.

I rallied. “It looks like we have everything we need, one of us will tail him after work and get pictures. We’ll get the evidence, if there is any, and we’ll do our best to make sure you have everything you need to make a clean break so you can take care of your children and—” I almost got choked up. “What’s the dog’s name?”

“Fluffer,” she sobbed into her ratty Kleenex.

“She must be small.”

“She’s a Great Dane.”

“Alright then.” Blaire patted Danica’s back, helped her to her feet, and offered her hand. Danica shook it and then gave us both tight hugs before walking out of the office.

“I so need wine after that one.” Blaire sighed and collapsed back onto the couch. “Nothing seemed . . . off about her?”

“You mean other than naming her Great Dane Fluffer?” I yawned and then smiled a tired, weak smile. “Nah, she just seems upset, as she should be.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Why?” I tilted my head. “You think she’s lying?”

“I’m not sure, she just seemed . . .” Blaire chewed her lower lip. “It could just be because I’m gun-shy after the Vanessa thing.”

I snorted. “That makes two of us.”

“It’s nothing. I’ll start gathering info.”

I nodded and checked my phone, and let out a little groan. “Four hours before the world’s introduced to Jessie’s next wife—next flame—next everything.” I was nervous. Rightfully so.

We’d agreed that in order for people to believe us, we had to stay together for longer than a month.

Which led us to discussing six months.

And ended up agreeing on a year.

Of living together.

Sharing everything together.

Eating together.

Keeping up appearances.

But I was saving my business. I was doing the right thing.

Jessie, however.

I frowned.

Still confused about that man and why I was so fascinated by him one minute and ready to kill him the next.

My phone pinged with a calendar update.

Meeting with Danica rescheduled. She’ll call and make arrangements later this week.

I sighed. No matter what Jessie’s intentions, I was going to follow through with the farce, save my business, my reputation, and save that girl’s marriage, or end it. People like Danica needed us, and I wasn’t going to back down from this engagement just because I was afraid.

I gulped.

And shoved the fear away.

Chapter Twenty-One

JESSIE

I wasn’t ready.

Was anyone ever prepared to step into the limelight? I’d been at it for years and it still gave me anxiety. With the TV screens, the flashing lights, the applause? The constant judgment about my life when most people didn’t even know the first thing about me? That was what was wrong with the celebrity lifestyle.

The judgment.

People were invited into your life through interviews and social media, and the minute they found a flaw, they pounced like rabid wolves.

Human.

They find out you’re human.

And rather than rejoice in it.

They berate you for it.

They hate you for it.

They detest you for ruining the spell.

I clenched my fists on the wheel as I pulled my car up next to Colin’s. The girls had ridden with him since I had a meeting at the gym we owned and thought I’d be late.

Colin knew it was a lie.

There was no meeting.

But I’d needed some time alone.

Some time to think about all the reasons I was doing this, willing to jump back into the very thing that had suffocated my last marriage. I’d married Vanessa out of love and quickly learned it was all a ruse, so we pretended for the media, just like I was doing now.

I’d even made a damn list comparing this situation and the last, where Vanessa slowly sucked the life out of me with this incessant need for us to be the perfect couple.

I didn’t want to do that again.

I also didn’t have a choice.

My chest felt tight as I got out of the car and waited for Isla to do the same. I expected her to be in the same red dress. Vanessa wouldn’t have been caught dead in anything less than designer, especially when photographed.

But she wasn’t in a dress.

Or gown.

She was in a Rams jersey with her face painted. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail that made her look even prettier than before. She smiled wide and pulled out a foam finger, then charged toward me.

I opened my arms.

Not because it was expected.

But because her excitement was contagious.

I suddenly felt stupid in my nice, white button-down shirt and black slacks.

Her breasts pressed against my chest. I let out the air I’d been holding with such a whoosh that my entire body relaxed against her.

“What do you think?” She blinked up at me, smile wide, cherry-red lipstick glistening.

I gave my head a shake and whispered, “I think if I was on the opposing team I’d lose on purpose in order to have you tackle me.”

“Jessie, are you saying you’d let me blitz your ass?”

I chuckled. “Well, maybe not my ass—”

Isla made a face and reached for my hand. “You know what I meant.”

“And you know what I meant,” I said under my breath as if I needed a reminder about our ultimatum this morning, letting her create chaos in my life for sex. It had been a stupid thing to say, but she’d made me angry.

Angry that she was right.

Angry that the first color I’d seen in my house hadn’t actually caused anxiety like I’d originally felt, but excitement.

I’d take it to my grave.

The feeling had been so foreign I’d misdiagnosed it.

Isla froze as Blaire and Colin ran up in front of us and talked with security.