joke. Mollie couldn’t pretend for a minute that Janson Styles would ever be interested in her. Giving him what he deserved for his snobbery would be so much fun... so would laughing over dinner and making fun of each other’s clothes. She prayed for strength—Oh, God! I know taking him out and embarrassing him would be the most hilarious thing ever, but don’t you think my friend needs a good night out too? That’s the right thing to do, isn’t it? She didn’t wait for an answer, only steeled herself against her selfish thoughts and took the plunge. “Ms. Faun,” she called over to Elana. “I’ve bought you a date.”
“Mollie?” Elana shielded her eyes and let out a laugh when she finally recognized her. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I think you’ll have more fun together.” There was no going back from her good deed. She sneaked a glance at Janson. She might as well enjoy his reaction, too.
He’d turned alarmingly still, though his beautiful eyes resting on her weren’t angry. She noticed the shadow of an undiscernible emotion darken them before he gave a single nod. “You’re probably right, Red.” He lifted his hand and softly brushed his knuckles under her chin in farewell.
Then he was gone, even while her skin tingled at his touch. Her stomach dropped as he directed all his charm on Elana, exactly like he’d done with Mollie. Yeah, nothing that had passed between them had meant anything. He’d only been trying to make the most of their date. Mollie had made the right decision. I did, right? Janson already had Elana laughing. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to smile. Elana’s eyes shone with happiness. This was something to feel good about.
“Why’d you let him go?” Charly asked. Her face mirrored the disappointment Mollie tried to stuff away. “You lost your chance.”
“Good!” The conviction in Mollie’s voice came out a little too strong. “Mission accomplished.” She swung around. Aaron looked deflated, too. She tried to cheer them both up, fighting the pit forming in her own stomach. “I’ve never had so much fun spending someone else’s money before. Thanks!” The problem was that she couldn’t stay a moment longer watching Janson hit it off with Elana. Pulling Charlize into a hug, she decided to let these two enjoy the rest of their night together. Somehow she found her voice to give her approval of her friend’s new relationship. “Aaron’s all right.”
Charly’s grateful smile made her feel a little better. At least something good came of this party. She chuckled at herself. Something great! What a fool to not enjoy pulling off the greatest prank in history against Janson Styles. Her rejection might take him off his high horse for a while. Shaking her head at her initial reluctance, she left with a skip to her step, passing the expensive Molinero jewels with a wistful look. Then, jutting her chin, Mollie determined to make the most of her night, anything to make her forget what she’d given away.
CHAPTER TWO
The panic attacks were getting worse. Janson Styles flexed his fingers and tried to relax as his private plane landed on the Fayetteville runway thirty miles away from Eureka Springs. After a month away from his new getaway cabin at the Mountain Cove retreat, he was more than ready to return from Texas. The problem was that he should’ve come sooner. All he could feel were the walls closing in on him. It didn’t matter if the plane’s interior was spacious compared to commercial standards. He couldn’t take another minute in here. What had he read online for grounding himself during one of these attacks?
Five things he could see.
His jeans, the soft gray knit of his T-shirt—he was finally out of a suit. His eyes roamed over his two hulking bodyguards lounging in the luxurious ivory leather seats to the side—Dwayne and Vin—they were so big, they probably counted as double. They gripped their power drinks in meaty hands, laughing in their laid-back way. Janson concentrated on the logo design on the cans.
Four things he could hear.
The low murmur of the engine, the wheels catching ground, Dwayne and Vin’s grumbled arguments, the soft rustle of a page turning in a book. This wasn’t working! His heart rate wasn’t slowing down. He had a fear of being trapped—Cleisiophobia—he’d found the name for it after a desperate search. The panic attacks followed him everywhere with a locked door: his plane, his office, elevators, hospital rooms. He groaned. Oh, hospital rooms.