“Where are we going?” Jessa asked.
“Just come on.”
Jessa followed behind her reluctantly. She was never 100 percent sure her mother was all together and wrapped tight.
They passed through the open gate. The lights from the paved walkway lit their path.
Pop!
“What the hell was that?” Jessa asked, jerking her hand free and stopping in her tracks. “Was that gunshots? Where is my baby?”
“Gunshots? In this hood? Girl, please.” Darla turned and sucked air between her teeth. “You always were a chicken. Come on.”
Jessa shook her head. “Mama, tell me what you’re up to,” she snapped, pointing her finger.
Darla swiped her hand dismissively before turning and rushing up the rest of the path with the tails of her caftan lifting up into the air behind her.
Damn nut. She turned to head back toward the front of the house.
“Where you going?”
Jessa froze and turned.
Hammer stood there in a tuxedo, his hands in his pockets and the walkway lighting seeming to give him that The Last Dragon glow.
She smiled as she walked up to him standing at the end of the path. “Hello,” she said, reaching to lightly wrap her hands around his lower arms.
“Surprised?” Hammer asked, bending his tall frame to press a kiss to her forehead, both cheeks, chin, and finally, her mouth.
“Considering you said you were working? Yes, I am,” she said, with a hint of flirtation. “And the tux is a nice touch.”
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Perfect,” he said. “Ready?”
“For?” she asked, feeling coquettish as she tilted her head to the side and bit her bottom lip.
“Let’s go see,” Hammer said.
She removed her hands with reluctance, but then slid one into his when he turned.
They walked around the house to the backyard.
Jessa inhaled deeply in surprise and then released the breath slowly as she took in the large pergola over the lit concrete fire pit. It was adorned with bright red roses, twinkling white lights, lit candles, and a gold bucket with an open bottle of champagne. There were dozens of round bouquets of roses hanging from the tree limbs above it.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, her heart pounding.
She looked around with the wonder of a child at all the effort he put into her surprise. When they came to stand beneath the structure, the scent of the roses was heavy and the warmth of the fire pit welcomed in the slightly chilly air of a fall night. “Are we having dinner out here, because I am starving,” she said, looking down at the champagne bottle and realizing the removal of the cork caused the noise that scared her earlier.
At his continued silence, Jessa turned to find Hammer down on one knee with an open ring box in his hand. She covered her now gaping mouth with her hand. “Seriously?” she asked softly, tears brimming in her eyes with far too much ease.
Hammer nodded. “Very seriously,” he assured her.
Jessa stepped forward to stand before him, reaching out to stroke his chin and look down into the beauty of his eyes. “Me?” she asked, her tone more high-pitched than she liked.
He chuckled and reached for her left hand with his free one.
She trembled as he stroked her pulse point with his thumb.
“I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, making love to you, protecting you, and cherishing you,” he began. “You excite me, please me, calm me, and center me. We have become far more than I thought we would be when I first complimented you on the fit of that skirt.”
“The red leather one,” she added, remembering the moment well.
“Exactly.”
They shared a laugh.
“Jessa Bell, will you spend the rest of your life with me and make me a part of your family?” he asked, squeezing her hand.
Can I really have it all? Jessa tilted her head back and looked up at the stars in the inky sky.
“Choose to be happy,” her mother had said.
Could she finally leave all of her past behind and moved forward with Hammer? The unexpected death of her husband, abandonment by her mother, the rape, the loss of Georgia, the affair with Eric, the betrayal of her friends, that damned childish message, Eric’s death, and so much more.
She looked down at him patiently waiting; neither his gaze nor the touch of his hand ever wavered.
Jessa nodded, looking at him moving the three-carat solitaire ring up her finger.
Hammer rose and slowly wrapped his arms around her to pull her close as he kissed her.
Deeply.
Slowly.
Lovingly.
“Yes,” she sighed into his open mouth just before he gently sucked the tip of her tongue.
“Congratulations!”
With reluctance, they ended their kiss. Jessa turned to see her mother, daughter, and nanny dressed in tuxedos as well. “Okay, that’s too cute,” she said.
“I look good,” Delaney said, freeing herself from Winifrid’s hand to run over to Jessa and Hammer.
Darla and Winifrid followed behind.
“Welcome to the family,” Darla said, beaming happily before she embraced him.
“Congratulations, Ms. Bell,” Winifrid said, before stepping back to lift the digital camera she held. “Smile, everyone.”
They all faced her.
“Cheese, Miss Winifrid!” Delaney said before smiling so hard that her cheeks rose and caused her eyes to squint.
They all laughed and Winifrid caught just that moment.
Chapter 6
“Hold the elevator.”
Jessa stopped scrolling through Louis Vuitton’s Instagram page to reach out and press the button to hold the doors open. She could hear the hard bottom of the shoes beating against the concrete. A fast pace, but not a run.
Soon, her sexy white stranger stepped onto the lift beside her, just as handsome, stylish, and impressive as ever.
She gave him a polite smile.
His was wider and warmer. “We have to stop meeting like this,” he said, his voice deep.
Jessa glanced up at him, thinking his frame was more suited to sports than business.
“I think it’s fate,” he said, leaning his tall, muscular frame back against the wall as he checked the time on his watch.
“I think my husband would disagree,” she said, her tone amused.
He snapped his tanned fingers. “I was just about to add if you weren’t married,” he joked.
Jessa arched a brow. “Somehow I don’t believe that.”
“You’re smart.”
“Most definitely,” she assured him, dimming the light of her smile back down to politeness.
As the elevator quietly ascended she shifted her eyes from his and watched the numbers on the display above the doors light up as they passed each floor. When his cell phone vibrated loudly, she inadvertently looked over at him again. She was surprised to find his eyes resting on her before he pulled his iPhone from the pocket of his coat.
She couldn’t deny his attention warmed her. It’s still good to know I can get it if I wanted it—which I don’t.
He sent his call to voice mail.
She looked on as he slid the phone back into his pocket. “It’ll just be bad reception anyway,” he explained.
“True,” she agreed.
They fell silent again.
She turned her attention back to the numbers.
“I thought of you the other day,” he said.
This time she turned and leaned against the wall opposite him. She said nothing and just tilted her head to the side as she gripped the handle of her tote with both hands.
“Right in the middle of an important meeting, I suddenly wondered if you smelled as good as you look,” he admitted, his eyes dipping down for a moment to her neck.
Jessa shifted in her stance. “How did your meeting turn out?” she asked, purposefully trying to refocus his train of t
hought.
He accepted the diversion with a chuckle. “Very well... once I stopped wondering if a beautiful brown neck was scented with something sweet.”
Not bad. I love perfume with fruity notes.
“Congratulations,” she said.
He nodded in welcome.
The elevator smoothly slid to a halt. With another broad smile, he stepped off when the doors slid open. “Have a good day, stranger,” he said.
He took a few steps down the hall.
Feeling mischievous, Jessa called out, “Hey, stranger.”
He stopped and turned.
“I do,” she assured him with an impish wink.
His chuckles reached her just before the doors closed.
She had to admit their little banter amused her, and she smiled at his buoyant chuckles as the elevator continued its ascent. Her own iPhone vibrated loudly just as the lift stopped and the door slid open. She pulled it from the outside pocket of her tote as she stepped off. “Lydia,” she read the Caller ID.
Her literary agent.
Jessa’s finger hovered over the button to end the call, but her curiosity won out. Shit. “Hello, Lydia,” she said, walking down the hall, past the frosted glass door of the Mistress, Inc., offices, and to the end where the long, narrow window displayed the New York landscape.
“How have you been, Jessa?” she asked, her Italian accent thick.
What do you want?
“I’m well,” Jessa replied, hoping to get past the amiabilities.
“I have some news—”
“Good or bad?” she asked with an arch of her brow as she focused on her reflection in the glass. She plucked a small piece of lint from the rose gold coat she wore over a cream top and wide-leg pants.
“Depends,” Lydia offered. “A prominent production company out of Hollywood wants to option your book to be made into a film.”
Jessa frowned, turning to lean back against the windowsill. Her eyes landed on the door to her offices.
There was a time when her life—her sins—had been on display. With the help of a publicist she made her scandal her platform. Fame and notoriety had been hers, and she’d craved the limelight.
But not anymore.
The name of her company wasn’t on the door and she didn’t advertise. She had long since cut ties with her PR and turned down a substantial offer to do a second book with her publisher. She craved the shadows that now protected her to some degree. A film and its publicity would mean rehashing every sordid detail.
Why would I want to stir in that shit again?
She hitched her tote up onto the bend in her arm and reached inside with her free hand to pull her engagement ring from its hiding place inside the zipped inner pocket. “Things are good right now, Lydia,” she said, stroking the band with her thumb. “I refuse to worry about the birds in the bush.”
“I’ve been around long enough to know that sometimes these options work and most times they don’t,” Lydia said, filling the silence. “But just having the option on the table gives us extra leverage to up the advance for a second book.”
“No, no, no,” Jessa said, her voice low but firm. “No book. No movie.”
“Why don’t you take a few days and think about it,” Lydia advised, her soft tone intended to soothe and encourage. “The last thing I want is for a rash decision to lead to regrets.”
Jessa laughed gently as she began to retrace her steps down the hall. “Oh, Lydia,” she sighed in amusement. “I already have a lifetime’s worth of regrets. One more won’t break me.”
“But—”
“Talk to you soon,” Jessa lied, ending the call before there was any more of Lydia’s soothing and encouraging.
* * *
Mrs. Robert Hammer Young? Mrs. Jessa Young? Mrs. Hammer? Jessa had whittled away the entire morning with such thoughts. She held her hand up to the light cascading through the window, loving how it made the solitaire diamond sparkle brightly. She wanted nothing more than to walk into Keegan’s office and share her good news with her, but she didn’t allow herself to do it. She’d decided that morning when she rose in Hammer’s arms, still sex drunk and high off love, that she just wanted to have an enjoyable day. No drama. No stress. No worries.
Just one fucking day.
“Felisha, call the police!”
Jessa frowned and sat up straight at the commotion in the outer office. Quickly she rose and rushed across the short divide to snatch the door open. She gasped in shock at Warrington Sachs standing in the foyer naked, his trench coat down around his pale ankles and the brown boots he wore.
I am absolutely not in the mood for this shit.
She glanced over at Keegan standing in the doorway of her own office and Felisha still sitting at the reception desk with her phone in hand. “Felisha, put the phone down,” Jessa said, as she walked toward the man.
“You ruined my fucking life,” Warrington roared, pointing at Jessa.
“Your life was ruined when God gave you just four inches, my love,” she drawled calmly with a pointed look at his genitals.
“You bitch!” he said, covering his dick and balls with his hands.
“Jessa!” Keegan snapped in annoyance, coming to stand beside her.
She eyed her. “You’re the queen of snappy one liners, but in this moment, I’m wrong?” she asked.
“Your interference in my marriage is going to make me lose everything—even the clothes on my fucking back,” Warren said, his eyes wild and darting over the room. “I hired you. You had no right sending that video to my wife . . .”
“Oh hell,” Keegan drawled behind her.
“So obviously you wanted me naked and in your fucking face or you would’ve stayed out of my business,” he spat, his mouth twisted in anger as he freed his genitals and then wiggled his dick at her.
“Not today, Mr. Sachs,” Jessa said with a shake of her head as she came to stand before him.
He paused, looking down at her in confusion.
“Maybe any other day, but not today,” she insisted.
“Who the fuck are you to meddle in my life?” he asked.
Quicker than a flash of lightning during a rain storm, Jessa reached out and grabbed his balls. She roughly jerked on them as she gritted her teeth and bored into him with her angry eyes. “I’m the bitch with your balls in my hand, you sick, perverted son of a bitch,” she growled low in her throat as he released a high-pitched squeal like a pinned pig. “Now, knowing you, you’re probably turned on right now, you demented fuck, but I promise you if you don’t gather what little sense you have left, put your coat back on, and get the fuck out of here, I will make you a eunuch.”
“Oh Lord,” Keegan sighed.
Jessa twisted the fleshy sacs clockwise. His knees gave out beneath him and his body sank downward. “If you ever bring your shit-loving weirdo ass in here again, then I will send you out of here without these small motherfuckers,” she warned, bending with him to keep his balls in her grasp.
Hanging out with Aria rubbed off on me more than I thought.
She jerked them again.
Tears filled his eyes.
“I told your wife about your dirty little secret, and you have offended me with the sight of your small dick,” she said, enjoying the sweat that dampened his brow and quivering upper lip. “So we’re even. Right?”
He nodded vigorously.
Jessa released him and he dropped to the floor, drawing his knees to his chest as he writhed in pain. She pressed her hands to her hips, her breathing jagged, as she fought the urge to kick him. “Get out,” she said, her voice soft as her heart pounded from her exertion.
She started to wipe her face with her hand but caught herself, the smell of his musky privates still clinging to her hand. “Please,” she stressed.
Warrington struggled to his feet, his trench coat already clenched in his free hand and his other softly cupping his genitalia. He too released rapid, shallow breaths as he pulled on his coat and t
ied it as he eyed her with open hostility. “I hate you,” he said.
“There’s a quite a few of you who do,” she countered with ease. “Form a club, have monthly meetings to whine, and then get the fuck over it, Mr. Sachs.”
Moments later he gave them all one last antagonistic look before he left the office, leaving the door open wide.
Jessa reached to turn the lock on the knob and then kicked the door close.
Wham!
She turned.
Felisha was still at her desk, her eyes wide with what could only be shock. Keegan stood there gawking at her, her expression incredulous. “I thought we agreed not to contact Mrs. Sachs, Jessa?” she asked, her arms crossed over her chest as she massaged her elbows, an obvious attempt of comforting herself.
Here the fuck we go . . .
“If you would like to talk to me, I’m headed to wash my hands and then I’ll be in my office,” she replied, turning to stride across the space to their restroom.
It wasn’t until she waved her hand beneath the touchless faucet to turn on the water that she remembered she still wore her engagement ring. Quickly she cleansed it and her hands of the sweat of Warrington’s balls before drying her hands and slipping the ring inside her sheer brassiere. It pressed against her flesh.
She eyed her reflection as she smoothed any flyaway hairs from the melee. She couldn’t lie. The last few minutes all seemed like a horrible dream.
I had his damn nuts in my hand.
Her frown was deep and filled with her distaste. “Shit, shit, shit,” she swore, pressing her damp palms to her neck as she forced herself not to completely lose her wits.
In truth, she was just as rattled as Keegan.
“Fuuuuuuuck!”
She allowed herself a twenty count before she finally opened the restroom door and made her way back across the reception area. Keegan and Felisha’s conversation came to an abrupt end when she passed by them.
She rolled her eyes as she entered her office, standing by the door with her hand on the knob, knowing Keegan was headed in right behind her.
“How the hell are you so calm like this all couldn’t have gone very differently?” Keegan asked.
Jessa closed the door behind her. “I’m calm because this was an oddity. And I handled it,” she said, watching Keegan pace behind the club chairs positioned in front of her desk.
Mistress for Hire Page 8