I glanced at my watch and stifled a gasp. That was only four minutes from now. "Really? With who?"
"Me."
Chapter 20
From the other side of the table, Jaden asked, "So, did you bring it?"
"You mean the description?" Nodding, I reached for the slim folder that I'd brought with me to the restaurant. "Sure, I've got it right here."
Back at the office, when I'd asked him if I needed to bring anything to this impromptu meeting, all he'd said was, "Yeah. Your job description."
Thanks to my orientation with Louise, I actually had one. From what I could tell, it was the same description that I'd seen on Jax's desk during that initial interview.
The duties were pretty straightforward – answer phones, schedule meetings, make reservations, handle travel arrangements, and so on. There was nothing on the list that I couldn't handle, and I was determined to prove Jaden wrong for thinking otherwise.
Across from me, he held out his hand. "Lemme see it."
When I handed it over, he gave the sheet a quick glance and then – What the hell? – ripped it right in half.
I stared across the table. "What are you doing?"
In reply, he tore the sheet again and then tossed aside the pieces. "This stuff?" he said, flicking his chin toward the destruction. "It's nothing."
I frowned. "So I'm not supposed to be doing those things?"
"Oh, you'll be doing them." His gaze met mine. "But that's not worth what you're getting."
I sat very still in my seat. I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at, but I didn't like the sounds of it.
Very carefully, I said, "Are you referring to my salary? Like you expect something extra?"
For some reason, the word "extra" felt like it was loaded with all kinds of innuendo. Would a blowjob in his office count as an extra? Because if it did, he had the wrong girl.
Oh, it's not like I disliked that sort of thing. In fact, I enjoyed it quite a bit. But I sure as hell wasn't going to crawl under his desk just because I was being paid or because he expected it.
And I couldn't help but notice that he'd phrased it oh-so carefully, too, in that "Gee-she-must've-misunderstood" sort of way, in case I lodged a formal complaint.
What an asshole.
He leaned back in his chair. "What do you think?"
Oh, so that's how he was playing it? I gave him a stiff smile. "If you're talking about a blowjob under the desk, you can forget it."
He looked at me for a long silent moment. And then, he gave a snort of derision. "Dream on. I can get that any day of the week."
Huh?
Okay, yes, I realized that no doubt, he could get that – and a whole lot more – any time he wanted. But this wasn't the thing that surprised me. It was his odd reaction.
And "dream on" – seriously?
What did he think? That I sat around dreaming about his cock?
Talk about arrogant.
And now, the jackass was laughing. "What, you've been thinking about my 'desk'?" He said desk like it was the filthiest word imaginable.
"I, uh…" Holy crap. What if I had totally misread it? If so, I'd just made a complete ass of myself. But if not, he had to be gaslighting me, making me think that I was the crazy one.
I straightened in my seat. "I don't like to play games," I told him, "so if you meant something else, you might as well tell me."
Just then, we were interrupted by the waitress coming to take our orders. She was tall and statuesque, with stunning blue eyes and the kind of cleavage that guaranteed no one would notice – meaning her eyes, of course.
Five minutes earlier, when she'd delivered our drinks – soda for me and a beer for him – she'd been all kinds of flirty, too, like she'd be willing to serve up her panties if only Jaden asked.
But he hadn't asked. In fact, he hadn't paid her much attention at all.
Still, the whole thing had been pretty darn annoying – not that I was jealous or anything. But still, how did she know that we weren't a couple?
I mean, for all she knew, I could be his lunch date.
After I murdered him, that is.
He looked to the waitress and said, "She'll have a sandwich."
My jaw clenched. "Are you seriously ordering for me?"
And a sandwich of all things?
I knew exactly why he'd said that, too. I almost rolled my eyes. Ha-freaking-ha.
And now, he looked ready to laugh. "What, you wanna do it?"
My chin lifted. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I do."
"Just so you know…" He grinned. "…they make a good pastrami."
Through gritted teeth, I said, "I don't want a sandwich."
He shrugged. "Eh, your loss."
Actually, it was my loss. I loved pastrami. In fact, I'd been planning to order pastrami until he'd ruined everything by choosing it on my behalf.
The jerk.
And now, no one was saying a word, not even the waitress, who stood there, giving me an expectant look.
Jaden said, "She's waiting for your order."
"Oh." Of course she was. I knew that. Or, rather, I would've known that if only Jaden hadn't thrown me off-kilter.
Now, feeling more self-conscious than ever, I gave the menu a nervous glance. I didn't even know what I wanted, not anymore. And why? It was because I'd stopped reading after pastrami.
I heard myself say, "I'll have the chicken."
The waitress frowned. "You mean the grilled chicken sandwich?"
Oh, God. Another sandwich? My mouth watered at the thought. But if I ordered a sandwich now, I'd never hear the end of it.
Damn it.
I forced myself to say, "No. But thanks. I'll have the other chicken." I tried to smile. "Please."
She was still frowning. "You mean the chicken dinner?"
It was a little early for a chicken dinner, but whatever. I gave a jerky nod, only to die of embarrassment when she informed me that they didn't serve dinners until after four.
I gave Jaden another look. Did he know this? Probably. It suddenly struck me that there had been a whole lot of sandwiches on the lunch menu – and not much else.
The jackass.
I blurted out, "Salad. That's what I'll have."
The waitress gave me a perplexed look. "The chicken salad?"
I gave a distracted nod. "Sure, thanks."
When she looked to Jaden, he ordered a pastrami on rye. Of course. I loved pastrami on rye. He probably knew this, too.
I don't know how he knew, but it couldn't be a coincidence.
Probably, he also knew that I loved beer. Maybe that's why he'd ordered it – to taunt me with that frosty mug of liquid bliss, knowing that I'd never order beer on the job, especially on my very first day.
Fine. Whatever.
It was a little early for beer and pastrami, anyway.
When the waitress left, Jaden leaned across the table and said in a low voice, "That's a sandwich, you know."
Oh, so now he was rubbing it in?
I gave him a stiff smile. "I know it's a sandwich. I've had pastrami before."
His mouth twitched. "I meant the chicken."
I blinked. "What?"
"The thing you ordered. Chicken salad. It's a sandwich."
I shook my head. "No."
He nodded. "Yeah, comes on a croissant."
Heat flooded my face. "Oh." Coming from Nashville, I was well versed in the uses of chicken salad. And yet, I hadn't even thought to ask – or check the menu, for that matter.
I was definitely off my game. Of course, it didn't help that the whole "blowjob under the desk" thing was still hanging out there, like undies on a clothes line.
As I mentally reeled them back in, I waffled between demanding to know what he meant by "extras" or praying that he'd just drop the matter entirely.
My gaze shifted to the tattered remnants of my job description. What on Earth had he meant?
I was still staring at the torn pieces of paper when he said
, "And just for the record, that's not the way I work."
I looked up. "Sorry, what?"
"Extras," he said. "And the thing with the desk." His expression grew serious. "That's not in the description, written or otherwise."
"Oh." I was saying that a lot lately, wasn't I? But he made me feel so stupidly tongue-tied.
"And," he continued, "if anyone gives you that kind of trouble, you tell me. I'll handle it."
I looked at him for a long moment, waiting for the punchline.
None came.
In fact, he looked deadly serious.
Before I could stop myself, I'd already said, "You mean like you handled Stuart?"
"Him?" Jaden scoffed. "No. The guy's a douche."
Yes. He was. But I so didn't want to admit it. "Well, we're broken up now, so…" I didn't bother finishing the sentence.
Jaden gave me a penetrating look. "Does he know that?"
"Sorry, what?"
"Stuart – does he know you're broken up?"
What kind of question was that? "Of course he knows."
Again, Jaden leaned back in his seat. "Uh-huh."
What did that mean?
I said, "Why do you ask?"
"It seems to me, he forgot."
"Forgot what? That we're not together?"
"Yeah. That."
This whole conversation had gone way off-track. Really, this was none of his business, and I was tempted to tell him so. But I didn't, because it was a topic that I'd been hoping to bring up myself.
I shifted nervously in my seat. No time like the present, right?
Chapter 21
Sitting in the quiet restaurant, I took a deep breath and just asked what I'd been dying to know. "That thing last Monday – what was that about?"
Jaden said, "What thing?"
"Oh come on, you know what. At my apartment, there I am, outside talking with Stuart when you show up – out of nowhere, I might add – and scare him off."
"Was that a problem?"
I studied his face. Weird, he looked genuinely curious.
And, as far as his question, I didn't have a good answer. Finally, I murmured, "Well, it was strange."
"Yeah? You wanna know what's more strange?"
"What?"
"Him. Calling the cops for something he could've handled himself."
Now, I didn't know what to say. Obviously, he was referring to the fact that Stuart had reported me to the police.
"Yeah, well, I didn't know he actually called them. I mean, he threatened to, but I thought he was bluffing."
Jaden gave a low scoff. "No, you didn't."
"Oh, so now you're a mind reader?"
"I don't need to be," he said. "It was obvious."
"By what?"
"Your face."
Feeling suddenly self-conscious, I reached up to touch the side of my cheek. My skin felt excessively warm, but that was completely irrelevant. "What about it?" I asked.
"I'm not talking now," he said. "I'm talking when you showed up at the house. You kept looking at the truck, like you were waiting for trouble."
"I did not," I protested.
"And," he said, "once you got inside, you kept looking toward the front door, like you were waiting for the swat team to bust through it."
I tried to scoff. "No, I wasn't."
"And," he continued, "you looked scared shitless."
Okay, now that was just plain insulting. "I wasn't scared," I told him. "I was annoyed."
"Yeah." Again, he looked ready to laugh. "With me."
Whatever the joke was, I didn't get it. I gave a hard nod. "Exactly."
"But me, you weren't scared of."
It was simple statement. And it was true. I hadn't been scared of him. I'd even marched into his house and – my face suddenly felt a few degrees warmer – destroyed his lunch, too.
But he totally had it coming. And plus, I'd been too annoyed to be scared.
Across from me, Jaden said, "It was a dick move."
"Sorry, what?"
"Calling the cops."
"Oh, so you're an expert in dick moves, are you?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back, not because they were rude, but because the words "dick" and "move" were just a little too suggestive, considering the rest of our conversation.
I cleared my throat. "I’m just saying, you're no angel yourself."
"Damn straight," he said.
I hesitated. Wasn't he supposed to argue the point?
Guess not.
I waved away the distraction. "But you never answered my question. Outside my apartment – why'd you show up?" Before he could answer, I added, "And, how'd you know Stuart was there?" My voice picked up steam as I tossed out yet another question. "And that security guy, what was that about?"
Part of me didn't expect an answer to any of these questions, but hey, it didn't hurt to ask, right?
"I'll tell you," Jaden said. "But first, I've got a question of my own."
"What?"
"Where do you think he got the truck?"
I stared across the table. "Who do you mean? Stuart?"
"Yeah." Jaden's mouth tightened. "Him."
Obviously, he meant the classic red truck that Stuart had driven to my apartment. I hadn't asked Stuart where he bought it, mostly because I hadn't cared. "I don't know," I admitted. "From a dealer, I guess."
"Guess again."
I gave it some thought. "From a private collector, maybe someone in Tennessee?"
Jaden replied, "Now, you're only half wrong."
I gave him a challenging smile. "Or maybe I'm half right."
"Fair enough," he said. "But which half?"
Now, this was easy. In my mind's eye, I could still see that red truck parked in front of my apartment. The Tennessee license plate was a dead giveaway. "The Tennessee part."
Jax gave a low scoff. "Now you're all wrong."
"What?"
"He bought it here in Florida, from a private collector."
I shook my head. "But it had Tennessee plates."
"Not a couple weeks ago, it didn't."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, we switched them out."
"Switched what? The plates?" And then, I sat back as Jaden's full statement caught up with me. "Wait a minute. Who's 'we'?"
"You can't guess?"
I could. I just didn't want to. "Don't tell me you were the private collector?"
"Alright."
"Sorry, what?"
"I won't tell you."
"But you were?" I was staring again. "So you were the one who sold him the truck?"
"It wasn't a sale. It was a trade." Jaden gave a tight shrug. "Other than that, good guess."
It hadn't been that good, considering that it took me a few tries to figure it out. "But how?" I asked.
"The usual way," he said. "Draw up the papers, deliver the goods, call it a deal."
"But that's not what I meant. I'm just saying, he doesn't even live here."
"So? We handled it over the phone."
Now, this made some sense. After all, I'd overheard part of their conversation, or rather, conversations, as in plural. And now that I thought about it, there'd surely been a few more calls that I hadn't overheard.
"But how did he get here?" I asked. "I mean, I had his old truck so…"
"So he flew."
"On such short notice? But isn't that expensive?" I tried to laugh. "I bet Stuart just loved that." I hesitated. "Wait, he did pay for the flight, right?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"What does that mean?"
"It means, I wanted the problem to go away."
Now, I wanted to cringe. "So you paid for the flight?"
"More or less." He gave another shrug. "I sent the jet to pick him up."
"The jet?" I swallowed. "As in your jet?"
"Mine and Jax's," he clarified. "Or the company's, depending on how technical you wanna get."
Holy crap. I'd never a
ctually flown on a private jet, but I did know they weren't cheap to operate.
As I tallied up everything that my little truck adventure had cost him, I was having a hard time catching my breath. And to think, he hadn't even griped about it, or demanded payment, or tried to make me feel guilty.
In fact, he hadn't mentioned the truck at all until I'd started asking.
I heard myself say, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why would you do that?"
"Like I said, I wanted the problem to go away."
"But surely there were cheaper ways," I said. "I mean, the truck could've been delivered, right?" Under the table, I was wringing my hands. "Or was that even more expensive?"
"Don't know, don't care."
"What?"
"I wanted to see for myself."
"See what for yourself?"
"What kind of pussy calls the cops on girl trying to rescue her friend."
My breath caught. "Oh." I sat back in my seat. Of all the things I'd been expecting him to say, this wasn't even on the list. It was surprisingly chivalrous and more thoughtful than I ever would've imagined.
In a very quiet voice, I said, "Thank you. For everything, really."
He frowned. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don’t thank me."
"Why not?" I asked. "You did me a huge favor."
"No. I didn't."
"But—"
"I wasn't doing it for you."
A new rush of heat flooded my face. And here, I thought the whole blowjob thing had been awkward. But for some stupid reason, this exchange felt ten times worse, because I had no idea what to say.
Into the silence, I stammered, "Oh. Right. I mean, I know. You were probably doing it for Jax, right?"
"No." He paused as if thinking. "Sure, he told me to handle it. But I wasn't doing it for him."
"Then who?"
"Me."
I stared across the table. "I don't get it. Why you?"
His gaze met mine. "Why not?"
Huh?
That was no kind of answer, and now, I didn't know what to say.
Happily, I was saved the trouble when the waitress appeared with two sandwiches – the chicken salad for me and the pastrami for him. As she set them on the table, she looked to Jaden and practically cooed, "Can I get you anything else, Mister Bishop."
"No. We're good." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Thanks."
When she left, I couldn’t resist saying, "Mister Bishop?"
One Bad Idea: A Billionaire Loathing-to-Love Romance Page 9
