Free Tailored for Trouble: A Romantic Comedy (Happy Pants) by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page B

people.
    “
I can’t believe this,” Taylor whispered to herself.
    “Oh, come now, Mith Reed,” Charles garbled. “You had to know. I mean…” He swayed again. The guy was wasted. “Why else would so many men sign on to be your clients at HRTech? And hey,” he leaned close, his alcohol-breath wafting over her face. “Now that Bennett won, can I just pay for a fuck?”
    Taylor slapped him as hard as she could, sending him reeling. “Why don’t you go
fuck
yourself, asshole.”
    She turned and left, ignoring the stares of the people who had been standing near her, unsure if she was going to cry or kill Bennett Wade.
Both! This definitely calls for both!
    She hurried outside, her devastation spilling from every pore in her body. She wanted to go back inside and give Bennett Wade a taste of her knee. But that was too good for him. That would only produce a moment of pain. What he needed was to suffer. Suffer and endure the sort of humiliation she experienced at that very moment, knowing that those men had been laughing behind her back, using her for some sick, disgusting billionaire sport. She’d truly believed that she’d earned her keep at HRTech because she’d been good at what she did. She’d spent the last five years of her life living a lie. Then she’d gone out on her own, thinking she had a chance in hell to create her own business. No wonder she had failed.
    She shoved her ticket and a twenty in the valet’s hand so he’d hurry up.
I’m nothing but a joke. A fucking joke.
But the worst part was Bennett’s role in all of this. He’d gone out of his way to become her client in order to win a bet. Then he’d actually let everyone believe they’d slept together so he could profit from her pain. She counted off the names Charles had listed in her head. Six. Six million dollars. That was the price tag for crushing her soul, pride, and dreams.
    I am going to ruin him. Ruin. Him.
    The valet pulled up in her car, and she slid inside. Suddenly, her brown leather purse vibrated. She glanced inside. It was a text on the Bennett phone.
    Bennett:
Why did you leave?
    “Because you’re a disgusting pig!” she yelled at the thing.
    She was about to respond, but stopped her herself.
No. Don’t say anything. Let him sweat it out.
    Bennett:
I’m coming to see you after the party.
    Taylor turned the phone off and threw it on the floor.
Then get ready, Mr. Wade, for a new kind of training. A program that will be Taylored just for you…

CHAPTER 6
    Taylor pulled her car behind Jack’s BMW with its plates that read “Fix U” and wiped the tears from her face. She didn’t want to alarm Jack or tell anyone what had happened. The humiliation was just too much. She’d lost everything. Hopes, dreams, self-esteem—poof! Just like that.
    Well, at least you still have your health.
    “Achew!” She launched a sneeze right into her hand.
Great. Just great.
    She slid from the car and went in through the front door. Jack sat on his couch with a beer in his hand, staring blankly at some baseball post-game whatever. “Hey, Jack.”
    He jerked his head, but didn’t look at her.
    She paused halfway up the stairs. “You okay?”
    He didn’t move. Something wasn’t right.
    She went back into the living room, and when his face came into view, she noticed the glazed look in his green eyes. His grease-stained Giants sweats were another bad sign.
    “You’re drunk.”
    “Yep.” He continued staring at the TV.
    Oh no.
This was what Jack did when he lost a patient. He always took it hard. Always.
    Taylor sat beside him on the pink, floral overstuffed couch. It was one of the many leftovers from his marriage, but Jack had refused to throw out perfectly good furniture even if the style was overtly girly—almost like Doris had been trying to overcompensate for who she really was. Not girly. Not even a little.
    “What happened?” Taylor said.
    Jack shook his head no. “She had two children—ten and twelve—and a