Page 8 of Hired Husband

“Did you just call me pretty?” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Isaac Thayer, I think you just accidentally complimented me.”

“You’re right.” I groaned. “The strobe lights must be affecting my judgment.”

She laughed, her face lighting up with amusement and those dark eyes glittering as they focused on mine. “I crashed your celebration, didn’t I?”

“I asked you to.”

Her gaze drifted back to the group of people she’d arrived with below. “You really didn’t have to rescue me.”

“I’d never hear the end of it from Colin if I didn’t. Where did that cocktail even come from?”

She shrugged. “Some guy Nicole knows. It’s always like that with her, but since we’re celebrating, I won’t bore you with the details.”

“Details never bore me,” I said, but then I realized the social details of her life probably would. “Besides, this isn’t the real celebration. Your sister is arranging that for this weekend.”

“I heard.” She brought her eyes back to mine and smiled. “I also heard that I’m coming to your party.”

“I’m sorry.”

She laughed again. “Thanks, but I should warn you that my father might just turn it into our engagement party if you continue to seduce him with your engineering prowess.”

I nearly choked on nothing but air, more stunned than I’d ever been in my life. “My what now?”

“Relax. God, the look on your face right now,” she said, laughing again. “Over my dead body would I marry you, but Dad thinks you’re going places, which to him means that he has to set us up immediately.”

She rolled her eyes, not at all looking like any of this was bothering her. For some reason, I felt a tiny, completely irrational stab of disappointment somewhere deep in the recesses of my being. That was ridiculous, though.

I’d never even considered getting married, let alone marrying Jasmine, but still. Knowing Deja as well as I did these days, I recognized this brand of certainty. Jasmine’s assertiveness was a family trait, which meant I had to tread lightly and not let her know that I might or might not have given it some thought if Basel had pitched the idea to me instead of her.

She would be furious and never speak to me again.

“Well, in that case, I’ll be sure to keep my engineering prowess far away from your father at the party,” I said lightly. “We wouldn’t want him thinking that I’m going any further than I already have.”

“Thank you,” she said happily, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a long sip.

She hadn’t even swallowed it yet when an overly dramatic voice swept across the table, Nicole Royal herself suddenly appearing in front of us. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Why are you up here instead of the dance floor with me?” Her hands landed on Jasmine’s shoulders, those green eyes that probably starred in a hundred men’s fantasies a night wide and exasperated. “Let’s go, Saad. Stop being so boring.”

“I’m not.” She scooted closer to my side, even leaning into me a little bit as she shot her friend a look I couldn’t quite see. “Isaac is going to drive me home tonight.”

“I am?”

Nicole blinked rapidly before finally sparing a glance in my direction. A slow smile started spreading on her lips as she took me in. Then she turned back to Jasmine. “Oh. Right.”

“Right.” Jasmine grabbed my hand and her purse, then started pulling me out of the booth. “We’re just going to go now, but I’ll talk to you later.”

I didn’t remember agreeing to any of this, but the next thing I knew, Nicole was watching us leave with a knowing look in her eyes and a truly devious but approving grin. I followed Jasmine, letting her tug me out of the club even as I wondered what the hell was happening right now—and why the prospect of spending the rest of the night with her instead of my friends wasn’t nearly as awful as it should’ve been.

CHAPTER 4

JASMINE

The private garden behind the clubhouse at the golf course shimmered with heat under the afternoon sun. The white umbrellas dotting the perfectly manicured lawns were doing their best to shield us but it turned out that Chicago summers could be as brutal as their winters.

Thankfully, the heat was much more my speed. So even though it felt like my mascara was melting off, I was still relaxed, leaning back in my chair as I watched waiters drift through the crowd with silver trays of champagne and canapes.

Deja had outdone herself with Isaac’s party, filling the garden with musicians, flowers, and people we actually knew rather than making it a social event where we wound up spending half the afternoon pretending to remember names. I was genuinely enjoying myself, taking up one of the umbrellas with Deja on one side and Ashanti, our sister-in-law, on the other.

It was just the three of us at this particular table. The rest of Isaac’s family and friends were spread out across the garden. Several of the Westwood women had gathered around the gorgeous, white play area Deja had brought in for the kids. Their screams and squeals of joy pierced the air every so often.