Page 18 of Wingwoman
Heat crept up my chest at the thought. I wanted that more than anything. I wanted Brent to see what he was missing. I wanted him to regret his infidelity and know he made the wrong choice. To know just how badly he fucked up.
Then, as if reading my thoughts, Josh added, “He might even come crawling back to you. Begging you to take him back.” Josh leaned back onto his barstool shrugging. “I mean, that part is your call after our contract is up. Personally,Iwouldn’t take back a cheating bastard, but that’s just me.”
I swallowed hard and it went down like a glob of wet sand.
Would I take Brent back if he came crawling back? My throat burned at the thought. My brain said no. No way, no how. But my heart—my aching heart twisted at the thought of having Brent back in my life. “And what doyouget out of this?”
He looked at me like I had three heads. “A muse. I get a muse, a new hit album, and a date for a couple of months that’ll keep women from pouncing on me at events.”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to read the subtext of his words. He couldn’tonlywant a muse. No one was that transparent, right? “But…why me? I still don’t understand what the hell it is you see in me, specifically.”
I looked around the bar where I was surrounded by gorgeous women. Women of all shapes and sizes; there was a woman for every taste here. I was not the cream of the crop. And Josh’s infatuation with me was unsettling.
Josh held my eyes as he blinked slowly. A moment of vulnerability slid over his features. “I can’t explain it, Hope. Every time I look at you, lyrics start to pop into my head. The whisper of a melody haunts my brain. No one else has inspired that sort of creativity in me in years.”
“No one elseyet. You haven’t even tried to find someone here. And we’ve only just met.”
He smiled in an utterly disarming way. “I love the way your eyes seem to darken as you become passionate. Like warm honey.” He dropped my hands and reached up, gently brushing my hair away from my cheekbone. A shiver tumbled down my spine and my breasts tingled at the feel of his touch against my skin. “And the way this piece of hair always finds its way into your face.”
I tried desperately to ignore the pinch behind my breastbone. The innate draw I felt toward him. I tried to pretend like my breathing wasn’t becoming slower, deeper, and like I wasn’t getting lost in his deep cerulean eyes.
Could I do this? Say yes to one of my clients? For the first time in my career, could I allow myself to bethewoman, not just thewingwoman?
I’d been so careful for so many years in the dating pool. So cautious and aware, never falling for the lines. And when Brent and I met, there was no cheesy pickup line. He didn’t come on to me or try to impress me. He was just a cute guy who was a waiter, trying to make it as an actor in the toughest city in the world.
I swallowed hard. None of that mattered now.
I thought Brent was different, but I was wrong.
It was all the same and there was no escaping it. Watching my father wed and divorce four women? I guess I didn’t expect much good out of people anymore.
You might call it jaded.
I called it realistic.
Look what it got me when I let my guard down and started dating Brent after all these years – a broken engagement. A cheating ex. Not to mention, homeless.
But holy hell, I wanted to say yes to Josh Gabriel. I nibbled my bottom lip, remembering the tight sinews of his bare chest in my living room a mere couple of hours ago.
It would only be temporary—I’d be going back to New York in a couple months anyway. Why shouldn’t I allow myself a bit of fun? Of course, I’d have to return his money, but that wasn’t an issue. I could find other clients. I had two months to come up with the money for another apartment. I could do that. Especially down here in Texas where I was staying in Dad’s condo for free.
I opened my mouth, not quite ready to say yes, but not altogether about to reject the idea. As I went to answer him, a beautiful woman with hair so blond it seemed to gleam under the lights of the bar stepped between us.
Literally.
She walked right between us, cutting me off from Josh. I stood there, dumbfounded, staring at her perfect ponytail, curled ever so carefully at the ends, not a strand out of place.
“Josh Gabriel?” she asked. Though she wasn’t screaming and jumping up and down, there was anticipation in her bright green eyes. Eagerness. Intrigue. “Oh my god, I almost didn’t recognize you with the hat hiding your face. Can I get a selfie with you?”
Josh didn’t miss a beat. He tilted his head just so, taking her phone from her hands and holding it out in front of them. Then with a quick tug, he pulled her into his side, smiling for the camera. “Say cheese, darling.”
Three other women circled around him, like sharks swimming around an injured seal. “I told you it was him!” the blonde said to the other women.
The next thirty seconds blared with a sequence of squeals andoh my godsso loud, it nearly burst my eardrums. One by one, the women came forward for their selfies. More of a crowd eventually gathered. They asked him to sing a few bars of his latest song. He grinned wider, leaning casually against the bar, sipping his whiskey, seeming to bask in the limelight in a way that completely surprised me.
This man who was now signing autographs and smiling for selfies seemed so different than the Josh I’d been getting to know these last couple hours.
Then again, hadn’t I already proven that I couldn’t trust my intuition when it came to this sort of thing? Weren’t celebrity types all the same? Whether they were Grammy-winning singers, Broadway stars, or hell, even a YouTube five-minute sensation.
