Page 13 of Crazy In Love

He giggles. “I believe you. And I already talked to Booker to make sure.”

“You talked to Booker?” she laughs. “Checking up on me?”

“What is your job, anyway?”

Dammit, Chris! Shut the fuck up.

Four sets of eyes swing across, like tractor beams burning my skin and clawing at my face. They watch me, stare at me. Silence hangs but for the movie playing on the screen. Then Fox smirks, grabs a little more cheesecake, and slides it onto her tongue. “What doIdo?”

I could have gone straight home. I could be sitting on my couch right now, all alone, exactly how I like to be. I could be comfortable in a pair of sweatpants instead of jeans and barefoot, which is way better than the boots that itch the soles of my feet.

But no. I insisted on driving to the fucking airport and collecting a socialite whose mere existence bothers me in ways I can’t explain.

“Yes.” I push the single syllable past gritted teeth. “You.”

“I’m the CHO at Gable, Gains, and Hemingway.”

“That’s a marketing firm!” Frankyfun factsme. “Their building is in Manhattan, and it’s huge. It’s not the tallest, but it’s one of them. You can see it from miles and miles outside the city.”

I draw my eyes back to Fox, my nose twitching with displeasure when I find her brown gaze waiting for mine. “So you’re in marketing? You write ads and stuff?”

“No. My boss writes ads and stuff.” She allows a lazy, languid smile to spread across her lips. “I’m the CHO. My job is much more important.”

I dig my hands deeper into my pockets. “Chief…somethingofficer. Sounds prestigious. You must’ve worked hard to get there at…” I look her up and down. “Thirty-five?”

I’m a bastard, I know.

“Twenty-eight,” she bites out. “In fact, I had a birthday just a few days ago.”

Alana gasps, grabbing her friend. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fly out for the party! You know I would’ve if I could, right? There’s no chance I would’ve skipped it if I had literally any other choice.”

“You’re seventy-five months pregnant. You’re notallowedto fly, and sitting in the car for two days would send anyone crazy.” She places her hands on Alana’s baby bump. “I forgive you.”

“We’ll make it up to you while you’re here. I promise. I’m gonna do something special for you just as soon as this giant baby is out of me.”

“I already told you what I wanted for my birthday, anyway. But since that bambina is still locked inside the vault of Alana, I guess I’ll trade birthday buddy for a birthdaymonthbuddy.” Smirking, Fox glances over her shoulder and catches me staring. “I’m Chief Happiness Officer, by the way.”

Her words don’t make sense. The phraseology doesn’t compute. I blink, and then I blink again. I open my mouth to speak, and then I snap it closed again. Then I reach up and scratch the back of my neck. “What?”

“Chief Happiness Officer. That’s what I do.”

“Your… Your job ishappiness?”

“I work within a stressful industry where burnout is real and too common, and business executives perform exponentially better when that stress is mitigated. My job, specifically, is to make them happy.”

“You’re a—”Hooker? Paid companion? Massage therapist with the happy ending services?“You’re a high-end escort?”

Alana gasps. “Christian!”

Tommy throws his head back, barking out a laugh that leaves his chest bouncing.

Franky, thankfully, is oblivious.

“No.” Unfazed, Fox scoops more cheesecake onto her tongue. “I already told you what I am. The fact you took to it with a scarlet-colored crayon is something you should discuss with your therapist.” She brings her eyes back to Alana. “Do they have those out here in the hills?”

“But what the hell is a chief happiness officer?” Why are they laughing at me? There’s no such thing. “I don’t get it.”

“You’re gonna get yourself shot,” Tommy giggles.He giggles!