Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,74

She’d been standing outside while Bennett had been in there. She should’ve realized.

Chip reached out and tried to pull her close. “Now, how about a little warm-up kiss?”

She winced and pushed away. “I said I’d be your date, not make out with you.”

“You have to make it convincing, or I tell Mother.”

Taylor shook her head. “Why do you always have to be such a pig? And what’s with you, anyway? You and Bennett are supposed to be buddies.”

“Wade and I go way back to college, yes. But I can’t count the number of girlfriends I’ve lost to him.”

“Bennett stole your girlfriends?”

“Technically, they weren’t my girlfriends. Yet. But getting any woman’s attention with Wade around is impossible.”

So how was that his fault? The man couldn’t help that he was smokin’ hot any more than Chip could help not having lips.

He continued, “This is my chance to take someone from him.”

“Bennett and I are not in a relationship. We’re just—”

“Stop. He lets you call him Bennett in public, he’s been seen with you more than once, and he took you on a business trip—”

“As a consultant,” she argued.

“Trust me. I know the man. He doesn’t spend that much time with anyone. Ever,” he added.

His words made her stomach all twisty. She really wished she meant something to Bennett, but it simply didn’t seem to be the case. “You’re wrong. I’m telling you; he won’t care.”

Chip wiggled his brows. “Let’s just see about that.”

This was going to be so horrible. She’d tell him that the materials she “gave” him were not to be used. He’d ask why. She’d say something vague like they weren’t good enough. He’d press for more, and she’d be forced to admit the truth of what she’d done in front of Mary and Chip. Then Bennett would yell at her in front of the entire restaurant and have her thrown out. She would leave with her tail between her legs, having saved Bennett from blowing up his merger, but he’d never speak to her again.

The thought set off all sorts of strange emotions. Uh, that would be called sadness, Tay.

“Shall we?” Chip extended his arm. “Hope you like sushi.”

She swallowed back her laughter as they entered together. A French sushi restaurant? Seriously? Please don’t let them serve fugu.

Chip spoke to the host in fluent French, and they followed the man through the upscale restaurant. It wasn’t like any sushi restaurant she’d ever seen—white tablecloths, waiters in tuxedos, and abstract paintings of fish on the walls. No floating sushi boats in this place.

As they passed through the dining room, she caught all sorts of attention with her scandalous red dress. And these were the people who gave the Fifty Shades movie a PG-12 rating. Nothing shocked the French. Except your revealing, horribly tight outfit, which is now displaying your hard chilly nipples.

When they approached the table, she spotted Mary Rutherford’s short, wavy, white hair and Bennett’s full, thick head of dark hair. He and Mary were leaning toward each other, deep in discussion. Mary was smiling but looked subtly annoyed. Oh no! And Bennett was just rattling on, but didn’t seem to be noticing.

Wait. Who’s she?

A stunning redhead with a face, eyes, and body only seen in movies or on the covers of airbrushed magazines sat beside Bennett. She had full lips, ample cleavage pouring from the low-cut neck of her black dress, and she couldn’t be a day over twenty-two.

Bennett brought a date. I think I just might die.

Bennett glanced at Taylor and then back at Mary and then his head snapped back to Taylor, his eyes widening and sweeping over her body.

Mary looked right at Taylor, too, then at Chip.

“Chip, honey,” Mary said, her tone deceptively sweet, “you’re late. And you brought a…date.” Her critical gaze landed back on Taylor and then she lit up. “Well, hello Ms. Reed. I almost didn’t recognize you in that dress. I had no idea you were in town.”

“Nice to see you again, Mary,” Taylor said, trying to keep her body from shaking in a fit of jealousy. And seriously? Did Bennett have to bring someone so hot? She was a perfect ten. Per. Fect. Meanwhile, Taylor was average height and had the sort of body one acquired from a lifestyle dedicated to the pursuit of trying to stay employed and working behind a computer. Totally normal. A solid six.

Chip took Taylor’s hand. “Yes. Sorry about the last-minute headcount.”

A waiter appeared with an extra chair, setting a place for Taylor at the

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