Page 72 of Wingwoman
“Yes,” I repeated. “I’ll be your muse.”
Startled, his feet slipped and he literally almost fell back in his chair.
I reached out, snatching his hand in mine before he cracked his head open on these beautiful Spanish tiled floors.
He blinked some more, stupefied over the fact I’d finally said yes to his proposal, or maybe it was because I’d caught him before he fell… I wasn’t sure which surprised him more. “You’re serious?” he asked.
I nodded,giving him my best smile, and asked, “So what’s my first job as your muse?”
He recovered quickly, shaking off his initial shock. “First, you promise me that you’ll never see Drake again. Whoserealname, by the way, is Duane.”
“So is The Rock’s.” That reply merely earned me a scowl. This muse thing was off to a bangin’ start. “Okay fine,” I conceded. “Done. I will never see Drake Duane again.” Not like I was planning to ever see that man again or go back to that strip club if I didn’t have to. “What’s task number two?”
“We’re going out.Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Where are we going? I thought you agreed to unveil your muse at the rodeo—
“I did. But we still have to tease it. And with that video last night going viral, we can lay more groundwork. We have four days until the rodeo… gotta make every one of them count.”
He slid his chair back and stood up. Then, taking his mug to the sink, he dumped out the remaining coffee and deposited the empty mug into his dishwasher.
He pointed at me as he left the room, Cash following at his heels. “Rest up today and feel better. There are some clothes that should fit you in the bedroom, but I’ll send for your things today. Make yourself at home… the pool, hot tub, gym, tennis courts, sauna. It’s all yours to use.”
“There’s a sauna and tennis courts here?” I asked, looking around. The place looked big, but what he was describing felt like commune big.
He ignored my question, his nose already buried in his phone. “Let me know if you’re still not well enough by seven. I’ll have contracts drawn up and emailed to you within the hour.”
He hurried out of the room and Cash paused in the doorway, torn between following Josh and staying here with me. Sensing I needed him more, he trotted back toward me and sat at my feet.
“What have I gotten myself into, Cash?”
Twenty-One
JOSH
She said yes.
Not only did she say yes, but she said it before the bet was even finished. Before the two weeks were up.
I sat in my office, completely flabbergasted by this morning’s events. And as a result, I had about ten-thousand things to do, but all I could do was sit there at my desk, grinning like an idiot.
Despite how drunk and horrible she was last night, I feel like I’d gotten to know the real Hope these last ten days. And the drunk girl last night wasn’t her.
That was the problem with alcohol. It turned you into the worst version of yourself. Turned you into a monster that you’d never be otherwise.
On the surface, Hope might be all high heels and cold, hard stares, but I’d seen glimpses here and there of her gooey center. The girl who still wore her mom’s signature scent of neroli and rose oil after all these years. The beautifully broken soul who just wants a father who will choose her. Love her.
I knew Hope.
Because in some ways, IwasHope.
I had drawn up a muse contract with my lawyer two weeks ago. But this one was special, with clauses that I had added just for Hope.
Things such as she had to mount a horse one more time before her six-week tenure finished.
And that she had to join me in the hot tub and sauna once a week.
Within an hour, I had emailed the contract to her. I smiled when, within twenty minutes, she’d messaged me back a draft with her own notes.
