“Thank God!” I groaned, pulling off my stilettos and placing them by the door. “There are so many ways to torture a woman, and the man who invented high heels is probably laughing his ass off in hell,” I laughed at my own joke.
Jack responded with an amused sound while supporting me with a hand on the small of my back. Straightening up, I smoothed out my dress and took in my apartment. I knew Jack and I needed to talk, and we had to do it somewhere private. After my conversation with Robert and Jack’s insistence that we get our story straight, it became clear. So, after fulfilling our obligations at the benefit, I decided to invite him here.
My one-bedroom apartment wasn’t much to brag about, but I had made it my home. It was decorated with pictures of me and my friends from Texas, even
