Page 43 of Wildly Inappropriate

“Let’s just say I’ve never had any complaints and leave it at that.” That shuts her up, and I can feel the curiosity in her gaze burning a hole through my back.

“No way! I’m not leaving it at that! Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

The woman is bouncing up and down on her toes in glee.

“I was joking, Pipsqueak. Unfortunately for the male population, I’m a women-only kind of guy. Though my PA Sam often tells me I should reconsider my options.”

“Boo. I was hoping for a scandalous story.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

Lila starts heading to our bathroom, yelling behind her, “I’m going to take a quick shower.”

I hear the door lock and try not to think about her very naked form behind it, forcing myself to focus on how to cook this chicken instead. Unfortunately, my mind keeps wandering to the naked woman currently in our room.

Lila and I have been sleeping together for almost a week now. We never do more than basic cuddling, no matter how annoyed my dick is at me each morning as I force myself to roll to my back, abandoning the warmth of her ass. But it’s nothing more than...well, I don’t know what. Similar to the book, we’ve both—without ever talking about it—agreed to act like it’s not happening. Even if it’s the best part of my day.

I grab my plate and walk to the table, forcing bites of mushy chicken and peppers into my mouth. As I’m searching for how to tell if chicken is going to give you E. coli, my phone vibrates, and I look down to see a new message from my mom.

Mom

I’ve lined up my friend Bethany’s daughter to be your date for the Ferguson event.

Shit. I’ve met Bethany’s daughter Morgan before. The dinner our moms forced us to attend together was utterly miserable. Morgan spent the whole time talking about purses and shoes or something like that. I was bored out of my mind and mortified by the way she treated the serving staff at the restaurant. When the condensation dripped off our waitress’s water pitcher and onto the lap of Morgan’s dress, Morgan went as far as asking to speak to the poor girl’s manager. I added an extra twenty dollars to her tip. It was the least I could do. I told my mom about it, hoping it would cause her to drop the whole thing. Apparently not.

JT

I already have a date. Sorry!

My phone rings, and without looking, I know it’s my mom. I hate lying to her, but I also cannot go with Morgan.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Who is your date, and why have I not heard about her?”

Cutting right to the chase, I guess. Smart, really. It doesn’t give me any time to come up with a plan.

“I just asked her recently. We’re going as friends, of course.” The latter part is more for me than my mom. My mother feels a wife could be “very beneficial for my overall image and future career success.” Then she likes to use her relationship with my dad as supporting evidence, which is unconvincing at best.

“And her name is…?”

“And her name is…” Just then, I hear the door to the bathroom open, the easy answer coming to mind. “...Lila. Lila Walker.”

“Jameson’s sister? Isn’t she a child? Good God, JT.”

“She’s twenty-four, Mom.”

“That’s practically an infant.”

“I’m not even five full years older than her. And we are going as friends.” I mean, probably. As soon as I convince her.

“I think you should consider backing out and going with Morgan.”

The thought of it makes me shiver a bit in disgust. Nope. I would grovel at Lila’s feet before agreeing to go with Morgan. Plus, I’m offended on behalf of fake Lila. She deserves to be treated so much better than a placeholder until someone better comes along.

“Sorry. Lila really wants to go. I can’t back out on her now.” I can tell I’m not making any headway, so I play the one card I know will work with my mother. “Plus, Jameson is considering coming”—also a lie—“and I wouldn’t want him to be upset if I showed up with a different date.”

“I suppose you don’t want to upset Jameson. It’s wonderful he’s playing well again. I’ve always had a soft spot for that boy. Is he still happy with his wealth management team?”

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