Page 21 of Boss with Benefits (Boss of Seduction #6)

Jessica stared at her reflection in the restaurant’s bathroom mirror while dabbing her sweaty arm pits with a dry paper towel. The sexy black dress she wore had a plunging neckline she was having second thoughts about. Was it too daring?

And the hem on the short dress barely covered her upper thighs. Brady had told her more than once how much he appreciated her long legs, so she’d worn it for him without thinking other people would see it.

Her hair looked flat despite her many attempts to give it more volume.

Her critical eye caught every flaw in her reflection.

She wanted to kick herself. Why had she agreed to a fancy dinner date with Brady?

Maybe she should tell him she had a stomachache and wanted to go home. It wouldn’t be a total lie.

She couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. Brady was probably already wondering what was taking her so long. The problem was, she hadn’t expected him to take her to Seattle’s hottest restaurant, a place where only the ultra-rich and famous could get a table. She was way out of her depth.

The door swung open, and she tossed the paper towel. A woman wearing her weight in diamonds gave Jessica a haughty look before refreshing her lipstick. The fleeting look said it all. The woman knew Jessica didn’t belong there and probably thought she should be standing on the street corner instead.

Once again, she mentally kicked herself for wearing the dress.

Jessica checked her shoe for stray toilet paper before returning to her date.

The walk back to her table seemed to stretch for miles.

She was all too aware of every eye that glanced her way, but she tried to act as though she had no idea.

Years ago, she had been a teen model and had learned several important lessons along the way.

Among them, she’d been taught how to walk.

Chin high, she used that knowledge now. Her hips swayed just enough to be provocative, and she prayed she wouldn’t trip.

Brady stood and held her chair for her.

Before she could make an excuse for them to leave, he lifted his champagne glass. “I would like to toast our first official date,” he said. “The first of many, I hope.”

She wrapped her trembling fingers around the stem of her glass, and she raised it high enough to tap it against his glass. Clink. Hoping a little alcohol would calm her frayed nerves, she quickly downed her champagne. The bubbles tickled her nose, and she snorted.

A few disapproving glares found her. Did people lose their sense of humor when their bank accounts started to thrive?

She had the childish urge to stick her tongue out at them.

The only thing that stopped her was the sound of Brady clearing his throat.

Once he recaptured her attention, his facial features relaxed slightly.

“You shouldn’t drink so much so fast on an empty stomach,” he said. He picked up a roll and buttered it for her. “Here. Eat this. The bread will soak up some of the booze.”

She grinned at him. “I don’t want to soak up the booze. Feels good.”

“I forgot what a lightweight you are, getting drunk on one glass of champagne. Wow.”

“I am not drunk,” she said. “Seriously. I’m just a little buzzed, and it feels good.”

The smile froze to his face. “Yeah. You said that already.”

She lifted her nearly empty glass. “More please.”

“Eat first. Then I’ll give you a refill.”

His attitude sparked a little rebellious anger in her gut. “You aren’t the boss of me,” she said. “You’re not the boss of me at work, and you aren’t the boss of me at dinner. I’m thirsty, and I want a drink.”

Instead of filling her glass, he stood. For a moment, she thought he was ready to walk out on her.

Her breath caught. He held his hand out to her instead.

Her handsome husband wanted to dance with her.

Part of her wanted to demand to have her way, more champagne, but the music already had her swaying in her seat.

Or maybe it was the alcohol.

She allowed Brady to lead her to the dance floor. Once there, he pulled her into his arms. They were tight around her as he held her closer than normal. Then his real motive for wanting to dance became clear.

He spoke close to her ear. “If you want to keep your son, you had better snap out of it. I brought you here because of the paparazzi. They are everywhere and will be snapping pictures all night. If your ex hired a private eye, you can bet he’s watching us now.

Start acting like a happily married woman or say goodbye to your son. ”

His words hit home, and she instantly sobered.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“No problem.” He gave her a little jerk. “Now, stare into my eyes like you are convinced I set the stars in the sky just for you.”

Thinking of Axl and how much it would hurt to lose him, she did as she was told without complaint.

It wasn’t a hardship, after all. Every woman in the restaurant was wishing she was in Brady’s arms instead of her.

She suspected every one of them would take her place if they could.

He was handsome, sexy beyond measure, over-the-top wealthy, and he was a great dancer.

She tilted her face, offering him her lips.

Would he kiss her in public?

“Fantastic!” a female voice rang out, startling Jessica. Then a familiar French accent teased her ears. “It is such a small world. Don’t you agree?”

Brady let her go, and Jessica turned to find Greta, one of their repeat models standing behind her.

Little scraps of material barely covered the woman’s nipples.

For the most part, her breasts were on display, both tops and sides.

Jessica squelched the urge to tell the French tart to put her boobs away. No one needed to see that.

She felt ridiculous now for being worried her own dress was inappropriate for the restaurant. No one would notice what she was wearing if they saw Greta first.

“Are you celebrating a successful business endeavor?” Greta asked, her hungry gaze on Brady.

Jessica shook her head.

“Something like that,” Brady said. “Who are you here with tonight?”

Greta groaned. “I am having dinner with the most boring man I have ever met, darling. You are here to save me, yes?”

Greta pushed her way between them, elbowing Jessica out of her way. Of course, she did it with a pretty smile on her face. That didn’t keep Jessica from wanting to punch the woman.

Jessica folded her arms and waited for Brady to object.

He didn’t, so she did.

“Brady and I were having a nice evening. Why don’t you return to your date and let us finish ours?”

Greta ignored her as if she hadn’t spoken. The model’s fingers followed the path of buttons up Brady’s dress shirt from his stomach to his chest. “Are you still involved with the little nobody you mentioned last time?”

Jessica froze. Little nobody ? Were those Greta’s words? Or his? Either way, he had some explaining to do. She clamped her lips shut and listened intently to their conversation.

“Are you tired of her yet?” Greta asked. “Last time we spoke you sounded like the two of you were on a downhill slide. If it’s over, I’ll send my date home. Alone.”

“I’m here with Jessica,” Brady said.

“I can see that.” Greta shrugged her bare shoulders. “She can go back to your table while we dance. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Greta stepped into his arms.

Brady looked over her shoulder at Jessica. “We’ll just be a minute.”

Was he kidding? They were supposed to be playing a happily married couple. How could they do that with the French bimbo wrapped around his body like a python?

Jessica stomped back to the table, a new burst of anger with every step. She hadn’t squeezed herself into this ridiculous dress for him to ignore her all night. The restaurant was his idea; the whole damn date had been his idea.

And now she was supposed to sit at the table alone while he felt up another woman?

She sat in her recently vacated seat and poured more champagne into her glass. After filling it to the top, she downed the entire thing. Then she had another.

Her gaze drifted to the dance floor, and she watched the French tart trying to seduce her man. Their marriage was fake, but her feelings were real. She and Brady were enjoying an amazing sexual relationship. No way was she going to allow the model to steal him away. Not even for one night.

Jessica stood on wobbly legs. She grabbed onto the back of her chair to steady herself as the room started to spin. Maybe she should sit back down and wait for Brady to return for his dinner.

She glanced up in time to see Greta’s enhanced lips zero in on his.

Enough! Jessica stormed across the large crowded space and grabbed Greta by the back of her hair.

She yanked hard in an effort to pull Greta away from Brady before she could slip her tongue into his mouth.

The hair came loose. Jessica stared in horror at the red wig in her hand while Greta cursed a blue streak.

The woman lost her French accent.

Brady’s eyes narrowed on Greta. “You’re American?”

Ignoring him, Greta spoke through gritted teeth even though it was obvious she wanted to shout. “What is your problem, Jessica?”

“You’re my problem,” Jessica said. “Keep your filthy hands off my husband!”

Greta paled, and her accent returned. “Husband? Don’t you mean business partner?”

“No,” Jessica said. She gave Greta a little shove, just hard enough to let the other woman know she meant business. “Brady and I are married, and you will keep your grubby hands off him.”

Greta’s gaze moved to Brady. “Is this for real? You are married to this... peasant?”

“Watch it, girl,” Jessica said. “I’ll snatch you bald right here in front of Seattle’s elite.”