His Wife for a Night by Daisy Jane

Author:Daisy Jane [Jane, Daisy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Daisy Jane

9

Alice

The next day creeps by, moving so slowly that every one minute takes five minutes to pass. I work the normal shift at the Coffeehouse but Aaron’s got the day off for some business meeting and without him, I feel anxious and nervous.

I move around the same space I’ve worked in for years but today my hips are thumping into corners, elbows taking out cups of milk, my fingers dropping pens and credit cards. Nerves, I think to myself, taking a deep breath.

I give myself a pep talk all day, reminding myself it’s a business deal and I shouldn’t be nervous because all I have to do is pretend. Have a lovely night with new people and just pretend and enjoy. Pretty easy, right?

When I’m done for the day, I rush out of the Coffeehouse rather quickly, anxious to have a nice soak in my tub before going to Norah’s place.

Maybe I should double check the details with her? I dig down into my bag and pull my phone out and see I’ve got two new messages from an unknown sender.

Looking forward to meeting you this evening.

Thank you for your help.

It’s got to be Fox.

It just has to be.

I don’t even know his first name; how can I respond? Then it occurs to me that he has my phone number. He’s asked Norah about who I am and the thought runs like lava through my thighs, trickling over into my folds.

You’re welcome, Mr. Fox.

I shove the phone back in my bag. I can’t read into this. It’s nothing. He’s trying to make an uncomfortable situation less strange, that’s all. That’s it.

When I’m home, I sink into my tub and let the warm water soothe my tense muscles.

Maybe I need that drink at Norah’s house more than I think I do. I grab the razor from the side of the tub and drag it over a days’ worth of hair climbing its way up my legs. I drag my hand across the fair skin when it’s done—smooth.

My hair dries in blonde waves and I pull it back into a ponytail before slipping into jeans and a V-neck shirt, putting my worn-out Birkenstock’s on last. I surely hope Mr. Fox isn’t going to be there while Norah’s people go full Cher and Dionne and do a Tai Fraser on me.

Then he’ll see me like this.

This is a business deal, I remind myself as I grab my purse and slip downstairs to find the town car waiting for me, as Norah promised it would.

It takes us precisely twenty-seven minutes to pull up in from of John and Norah’s house on the East side of town. It’s beautiful, very, but I expected no less.

A woman who absolutely kills a red suit and chignon isn’t living in a trailer, that’s for sure.

She pulls open the front door with a look of pure happiness on her face.

“Alice! You look beautiful, come in,” and for a brief second, I forget I am a business deal, part of a transaction, and I feel we’re just friends, hanging out.

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