Aiden.
While ascending the stairs to my client’s brand launch party, paparazzi snap my photo and inquire, “Where is your lovely wife tonight, Aiden?”
Which pisses me off. Ignoring their barrage of questions, I walk through the double doors only to be met with a shitload of people.
I am required to attend tonight’s event because I am Abby’s agent I would rather be at home nursing a glass of scotch then be here.
“Aiden,” Jackson Lambert calls out from across the room.
I sigh we get along well, but I’m not talkative at the moment.
Emily is gone. I searched my desk and found no signed papers, but the house was quiet.
“Where’s your wife,” Jackson asked
“Family emergency. She won’t be joining us tonight,” I said as I reach him, plucking a champagne glass from the server strolling by.
Ja
