Page 50 of Escorting the Mogul

“Exactly. She thinks she’s not good enough for me. She says her mother will keep coming back and that it’s not safe for me to be with her,” he sighed. “Don’t tell me Jenny’s pulling the same crap with you.”

“We haven’t gotten that far,” I admitted. “Jenny hasn’t told me anything about her past.”

“Interesting,” James said. “Maybe she’s better off than the rest of us and doesn’t have one.”

“That’d be a neat trick,” I agreed. “But I don’t think she’s that lucky.”

“Probably not.” James downed the rest of his bourbon.

The prospect of watching my friend drink until he fell over wasn’t very appealing. Suddenly, I felt tired. I wanted to findJenny and just go home. “We’re probably going to head out early—hope that’s okay.”

“I’d do the same thing if I had someone to go home with,” James said gloomily. “You’ll be there tomorrow, though, right?”

“Of course. I’m not going to abandon you with your family on vacation. Plus, Jenny’s excited. She’s never been to the Caribbean before.”

“Neither has Audrey.” He sounded like he might cry.

I regarded my friend. “You might want to lay off the bourbon,” I counseled.

“Fuck you, Bryson,” he said as he ambled back toward the bar.

At least he was acting alittlelike himself. It made me feel slightly less guilty as I abandoned him and searched the party for Jenny. She’d returned from the ladies’ and was drinking with the bridesmaids, who were all interchangeably thin and blond, except for one lone brunette. Jenny said something that made them all laugh.

“Your girlfriend isadorable,” cooed one of them, a non-descriptively pretty blond. “And she sure can party! Where did you two meet?”

I coughed. I knew the Madam had supplied us with a background story, but I couldn’t remember it.

Jenny nudged me. “The gym! Don’t you remember, babe? I was on the treadmill next to yours, and you couldn’t stop starin’ at my ass.”

“I was mesmerized by it.” I grinned. “Still am.”

“Nice,” said the bridesmaid, her voice wistful.

“You guys goin’ on the trip tomorrow?” Jenny asked the bridesmaids.

“Hell yes!” said the brunette. “I cannot wait!”

“Me either,” Jenny said eagerly. “I’ve never been to the Caribbean before.”

All of Evie’s bridesmaids were rich, just like her. They looked at Jenny like she had three heads. “You’ve never been to theCaribbean?” The blonde closest to us sounded baffled.

“Never.”

“Girl, we are going to have a good time! We’re going to drink rum out of coconuts and get wild!” The brunette raised her drink, and they all hollered, “Cheers!”

“Let’s do shots!” one of Evie’s cousins shouted.

They stampeded toward the bar. Celia Preston, who had just entered the room, gaped at the herd of hooting, hollering, already tipsy young women. She grabbed a martini from a passing server, then watched as they ordered rounds of shots and downed them.

“Jenny, are you ready to get out of here?” I asked.

“Sure.” She looked longingly at the crowded bar for a moment, then smiled. “I have all week to teach these whipper-snappers a thing or two.”

“That’s my girl.” I grabbed her hand. While Celia Preston was sipping her martini and scowling at the partying bridesmaids, and James was leaning against the bar with a fresh drink and a thunderous expression, we took the opportunity to sneak away.

“They’re all going to be seriously hung over in the morning, including James,” I said once we were safely in the car. “Did you talk to Audrey?”

“Nah, she wouldn’t pick up. What happened, anyway?”

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