How to Marry Your Frenemy - London Casey Page 0,54
loved to spend it. They were a wealth of information on what companies were doing what and when. And what people were jumping ship from those companies to start their own businesses.
That was the reason I was there.
To be seen and heard, smile and get information.
My hopes were that Mr. Henley and the Gorbains would start talking about me to anyone they knew. So when a company was ready to take on some investors, I would be their first call. Then I could work out a deal, take it to Vince, and show him that I was the one he needed.
No offense to my dear husband or anything.
This wasn’t about love and never would be.
It was business.
I sipped my martini like some fancy woman.
A hand groped the curve of my ass and I coughed, almost spitting my drink on the bar.
Classy, Callie…
I spun around and Derrick was looking at me.
“Derrick,” I said.
“Oh, I need you right now, Callie,” he said.
He moved closer. “Whoa. Back off.”
“What? Why?”
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m done with my commitments tonight,” he said. “Now I can drink freely and be with you. Let’s do this thing, Callie. We can make it work. My parents actually like you too. They’re impressed watching you handle yourself. I can see how lucky any guy would be to have you now. So let’s do it. Come on…”
He reached for my hand.
I pulled it away.
I lifted my left hand. “Did you not see the ring on my finger, Derrick?”
“A ring? So what?”
“I’m…”
I sighed.
This guy was so thick headed.
So dumb.
He made another pass at me and I side stepped away.
“Callie, what are you doing?”
“I’m getting away from you.”
“Why? You showed up here with me. I thought we… oh, hey, look at that.”
Derrick nodded.
“What?” I asked as I turned my head.
“Your neighbor is here,” Derrick said.
My eyes searched and stopped at Jackson.
Walking through the doors to the room.
A woman hanging off his arm.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
“That’s the guy, right?” Derrick asked. “Your neighbor?”
“Derrick, he’s not my neighbor. He’s my husband.”
“Your what?” Derrick yelled.
I wasn’t going to repeat it.
I had bigger things to deal with.
Like… what the hell was Jackson doing here with some other woman?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jackson
Did Callie really think for a second I was going to let her go to some event with another man and that I wouldn’t show up to make things awkward?
If so, then my wife really didn’t know me all that well.
To get to the charity event, it took me two phone calls.
The first was to Lincoln.
He got me the information about the charity event. Who was hosting it, where it was, and what it took to get into the thing.
A little bit of money and I was golden.
I didn’t have a tuxedo like Derrick did, but I had some nice suits that worked just fine.
Now, the next thing I needed was a date.
Or not a date.
I just needed someone to show up with.
I could have gone alone, sure, but what was the fun in that?
The true surprise was the look on Callie’s face when she saw me enter the room with another woman on my arm. Just to remind my wife that I was capable of getting someone else that quick.
Which brought me to my second phone call.
Maggie.
She was an aspiring model who bartended on the weekends.
That’s where I met her.
She was tall, skinny, beautiful, and loved the idea of no strings attached sex. Because in her mind, she was going to end up whisked away to Paris soon by some rich guy who would parade her on runaways and then spoil her with expensive food and gifts.
I hoped she got all of that, and more.
But tonight she settled for me.
Maggie loved to dress up.
I made it clear we were going as friends.
Which made the car ride to the event a little odd.
To just sit there and talk wasn’t my style.
The entire time we rode to the event, I kept picturing her getting on top of me. Easy access for her dress, and a zipper on my pants to pull my dick free for some fun.
Then, of course, as I pictured Maggie’s I’m coming face, she turned into Callie.
All of that headache and annoyance was worth it when Callie looked at me.
She was at the bar with Derrick.
Derrick had a big, goofy smile. He looked like the kind of guy that if you made a W, you could convince him it was an upside-down M and it needed to be thrown out.