Page 83 of Cozen

Dress code policy, after all.

“Well?” Jett asked. “How did it go today?”

“Quite well.”

“That tells me nothing.”

Sargon glanced over at the man, but Jett wasn’t even giving him any attention. He was too busy staring down at something on the screen of his phone. “She was pampered, like you wanted. Properly spoiled.”

“And she liked it?”

That was up for debate.

Sargon figured Cozen had tolerated all the attention, not to mention having people constantly touching her. She put up with the one who ignored every suggestion she had about her clothes, and the other one who all but demanded she put her hair up into some kind of classic style instead of wearing it down.

Eventually, she just settled into the idea of letting them do whatever they wanted or needed to do so she could get it over with. Or, that was Sargon’s perspective of how that all went down earlier.

He didn’t think Jett wanted to know those details, though. The man would only care to know that Cozen appeared happy, and beautiful.

That’s all Jett needed.

“I think,” Sargon drawled, “you will be pleased to see her.”

Jett did finally glance up from his phone at that statement. A wide smile spread over his features as he gave Sargon a nod. “That’s all that matters.”

As I figured …

Sargon had not been lying.

Jett was pleased when he finally saw Cozen.

How could he blame the man?

She was quite a sight.

Sargon had a hard time tearing his gaze away from the woman, actually. He stayed to the shadows of the restaurant. He moved along the walls, and occasionally found his way back to the bar when needed for a drink.

Still, he couldn’t help but watch her.

She had settled on the navy silk gown. Or, the bitch pushed it on her. Either way, it looked damn good draped over her curves, and sweeping the floor. Low cut in the front, and dangerously opened in the back, it showed off all kinds of skin.

A slit up the leg showcased a peek of her tanned skin and smooth thighs every time she turned to follow Jett to another table.

This restaurant was just as much about eating food as it was about mingling, and seeing people. People who were worth knowing, essentially. Rich fucks with pockets so deep, they might never find their way out again should they get lost.

Sargon didn’t miss the way Cozen’s gaze swept the room as though she was looking for something—or someone—when Jett’s back was turned to talk to yet another three-piece. Him, probably. She knew he was there.

Hidden by the shadows of a hallway at the moment, she couldn’t see him at all. He saw the way her gaze dropped, as did her smile briefly, before her mask came back in to place like it had never left at all.

She went back to the conversation at hand with a grin from Jett like she had never drifted from it in the first place. She stuck a hand out, and allowed the three-piece to kiss her knuckles as she was introduced and greeted.

Again.

And all over again, Sargon’s gut burned.

Jealousy was a horrible feeling.

A monster, really.