Chapter Thirteen

Chastity

“Marlene Babich is the host of the event,” I said, checking my makeup in a mirror I kept in my purse. “All you need to know about her is that she’s a patron of the arts, and all money raised through this event is going to Art Focus. It’s an after-school program for underprivileged inner-city kids. The goal of the program is to give them a creative outlet. To harness their creative energy and teach them how to explore it. To encourage their creativity through perhaps, less traditional means.”

If Jordan had understood a single word I’d just said, he gave no indication of it. Instead, he simply stared at me with a blank look on his face. If I were to judge by that expression, not to mention his entire demeanor, I might even say he looked a little frightened. Maybe, a little intimidated. Like he felt he was out of his league.

It was something unexpected, to say the least. I never thought Jordan was the kind of man who was intimidated by anything, let alone a little fundraiser. Seeing him standing there looking as uncomfortable as he did was adorable and I had to hide my amused grin behind my compact.

Jordan and I were riding in the back of a black limo together. Just the two of us. I had to admit, he looked sharp in his tuxedo. As some would say, he cleaned up real nice. He looked good and yet, still managed to look like he was totally out of his element. Still, in that black tuxedo that had been tailored for his body, hugging him in all the right places, including that beautiful ass of his, he looked like he just walked out of the pages of a magazine. God only knew, looking at him sitting there as sexy as he was made it difficult for me to keep my hands to myself on the ride over.

Jordan was a gorgeous man and I knew plenty of women at the gala were going to be envious of me. Just thinking about that made the petty little part of me smile. Yeah, I could be a snooty, petty little bitch as easy as any of them.

For the evening, I’d chosen a strapless silk Chastity Childes original gown with a sheer overlay. Red instead of black, because I liked to stand out at these types of affairs. I wanted to call attention to my designs and get people talking. Maybe I was a little biased, but whenever I showed up at one of these events in a gown I’d designed, I looked around at what some of the other women were wearing and felt vindicated. I would put my gowns up against any of the other big names and feel like mine were more elegant and gorgeous.

Given my choice of attire for the evening, I was already bound to stand out among the shapeless, tired old gowns. Plus, with a man like Jordan on my arm, I knew I was going to the talk of the ball.

The limo pulled to a stop at the curb just outside the front doors of the venue. A moment later, the driver came around to open our door. Jordan stepped out of the limo first and then turned back, extending his hand out to help me climb out of the back of the limo. I took his hand and exited the back of the car as flashbulbs started going off all around us.

Great. I rolled my eyes and let out a long, pained sigh. The media was covering the gala. Of course they were. I hadn’t planned on it and didn’t particularly cared for it, but this too, was one of the prices I paid for being in the industry. If nothing else, the media coverage would count as free publicity for my designs. At least, that’s how I always tried to view it.

I smiled, tossing my honey hair over my shoulder as I posed for the camera. Jordan had his hand around my back, holding me close. His body was stiff next to mine and the smile on his face looked entirely wooden and forced. I couldn’t imagine how he was feeling. I was used to the media covering events I attended. This was probably a first experience for him and I bet he was feeling a little uncomfortable. If not totally overwhelmed.

I leaned closer, whispering into his ear, “Sorry, I had no idea the media would be here.”

I hadn’t asked Patrick for too many details about the gala. Which was, of course, my fault. Knowing they loved snapping pictures of the city’s elite, I probably should have assumed the media and the paparazzi would be there in force. I’d had a lot on my mind and hadn’t really thought about it. Patrick though, could have given me a heads up. That would have been nice and would have avoided the tense awkwardness I felt radiating off of Jordan like heat from the sun.

Speaking of the devil, I saw Patrick was already at the venue. When our eyes locked among the throng of people, he rushed over to me, a buxom redhead on his arm. The woman looked somewhat familiar to me – a tall, lithe bombshell with long, red hair that fell in waves over her shoulders. She was wearing a black gown from my newest collection – one that hadn’t even been released in boutiques yet. It was a dress with a lace overlay, intricate design-work and mostly sheer.

It was a beautiful dress, but personally, I thought it was just a little too see-through and risqué for an event dedicated to a children’s charity. I wouldn’t have worn it or suggested anybody else wear it to an event like that one, but seeing someone in one of my designs never got old.

“Chastity,” Patrick said, pulling me close and kissing my cheek. “You look lovely this evening.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I kissed his cheek in return and stepped back, smiling wide at his friend, then extended my hand to her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said. “I’m Chastity.”

The woman’s eyes lit up, but it was Patrick who made the introduction before she could speak.

“Chastity, this is Jessa Bond, one of our newer models,” he said. “And Jessa, this is the woman who designed that amazing gown you’re wearing. Say hello to Chastity Childes.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jessa said.

Her emerald green eyes took me in, seeming to weigh and measure me before her gaze drifted over to Jordan – whom I still needed to introduce.

“And who is this?” Patrick asked, raising an eyebrow and looking over at Jordan before I could make the proper introductions. “I can’t say that we’ve met before.”

“Patrick, this is Jordan,” I said. “And Jordan, this is my assistant, Patrick.”

Patrick looked at me with a wide-eyed expression that told me he wanted more information. He wanted the scoop on who Jordan was and what was going on between us. But, I remained tight lipped. There was a time and place for everything, and this wasn’t it.

There was no reason to explain everything standing there on the red carpet outside the venue. Especially, since I had no idea what Jordan was to me anyway. Or I to him. Jessa, on the other hand, seemed to hit it off with Jordan from the very beginning. She stood there giggling and looking all wide-eyed at my date. If I stared real close, I was positive I could see the cartoon hearts floating over her head.

“So, Jordan, what do you do for a living?” she asked, batting her fake eyelashes while thrusting her tits at him. “Model? Actor?”

“Actually, I’m in construction,” he said matter-of-factly.

If he was falling for Jessa’s charms – or her obviously fake tits – I couldn’t tell. I gave his arm a gentle squeeze, as if to maintain my hold on him and remind him that he was there with me. Just in case. I didn’t think I really needed to, but it felt nice all the same.

“Construction? Really?” she asked, an amused smile on her pouty lips. “And how did you two meet?”

Jordan and I shared a look, neither one of us knew how to answer it. He looked a little bit uncomfortable, his eyes darting between Patrick and Jessa. Or maybe, he was afraid of being judged. It was obvious this gala was being attended by the wealthy elite – and Jordan was neither of those things.

For the first time, I started to doubt myself for bringing him to the event. It was obvious there were so few people he could relate to there and that he was so far out of his depth that it made me feel guilty. This was most definitely not his scene and not his crowd.

I looked at him and saw his jaw set and that cocky gleam in his eye. He was a man who didn’t back down from a challenge. That much I knew about him. As we stood there, he shot me a quick glance. It was for just a moment, but I saw all I needed to see in his eyes. He’d already come to a decision. Once I saw that stubborn light in his eyes, I knew that he was not going to back down, no matter the cost to his pride.

“I’m remodeling her apartment,” he said, a sly grin on his face.

No need to go into the earlier stuff, I thought. I smiled and nodded, agreeing with him. It felt better than to explain how I was almost robbed, and how Jordan was the hero who saved me. And how as his reward, I took him back to my hotel and fucked his brains out.

Better to keep it simple. Keep it impersonal.

“Do you mind if we go inside?” I asked. “These cameras are starting to get to me.”

Jordan nodded and took my hand as we started toward the door, but Patrick grabbed my other hand and pulled me away from my date.

“Here, I must introduce you to someone first,” he said.

Patrick had a tight grip on my hand and I looked up at him questioningly. Grabbing me like that was something he’d never done before. It was almost like he was staking his claim to me or something. I didn’t fight it. I didn’t have a chance. He dragged me over to someone else, and introduced me before I had a chance to yank my hand away and get back to Jordan.

The entire time we talked though, he kept a grip on me, which only deepened my sense of unease. The longer we stood there, the more awkward it became between us. I’d never seen Patrick act like that before. He maintained his grip on my hand until, he eventually slid an arm around my back. It was maybe a little low for my liking, but I remained silent about it, not wanting to cause a scene.

Jordan came up on the other side of me and I slipped away from Patrick, leaning into my actual date. He leaned down, placing his mouth to my ear.

“Let’s slip away for a bit,” he purred.

I nodded, eager to pull myself away from Patrick, whose hands were getting to be a little too friendly. I gave him a smile and excused myself.

“I have to use the ladies room, I’ll be right back,” I said.

I made sure to keep a tight grip on Jordan’s hand as we walked away. At least this way, Patrick couldn’t follow us. Not without appearing weird.

I looked back and saw Patrick watching me, his eyes narrowed and a strange expression on his face as we stepped away from the group. Jessa was also staring, but not at me – her eyes were clearly fixed on Jordan. Not that I blamed her. My date looked fine as hell. Clearly he wasn’t interested in her though. If he even noticed her, Jordan didn’t even give the sexy redhead a second glance.

We walked into the ballroom and found the private restrooms right away. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Jordan followed me inside, and I giggled to myself as he shut the door behind us.