And then, there was the other thing, something that I didn't want to think about. What, exactly, had almost happened to me today? Considering the worst-case scenario, I stifled another shiver.
I'd been so incredibly stupid. And I'd almost paid for it, too. Bigtime.
And, on top of everything else, there was Pete. I had a sad suspicion that somehow, I'd already gotten him into trouble for reasons unrelated to Bianca.
I wrapped my arms tight around my torso and tried not to shiver. It was almost July, smack-dab in the middle of summer, but I was freezing cold and not feeling so great.
It would be nice to blame it on the pizza, but somehow, I knew that wasn't it. It was everything else – the fight with Jake, the stress of that weird encounter, and now, the sudden cold.
Sometime between the time I'd left Jake's office and now, the temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees. Or maybe, it just felt that way, because I was soaked to skin and weighted down with cold, damp clothes, as skimpy as they were.
I started to shake, harder now, whether because of the chill, or because of everything else. When my teeth started to chatter, I couldn’t seem to make them stop.
Pete reached for my elbow. "Are you alright?"
Before I could answer, Bianca's voice rang out yet again. "Hey, Doorman! Do you want to keep your job, or what?"
That was the jolt I needed. A rush of anger flashed hot and hard against my skin. I stalked forward, heading toward those stupid doors. Once I reached them, I grabbed the nearest door handle, and yanked hard, flinging the door wide open.
And then, I laughed like a crazy person when Bianca had to leap out of the way to avoid getting smacked in the face. She made a show of stumbling backward and dropped her purse in the process. Still moving, she tripped over the fallen thing, fell backward, and landed hard on her ass.
She was shrieking now. "You did that on purpose!"
"Did what?" I hollered back. "Opened the stupid door? Wasn't that what you wanted?"
She was still sprawled across the ornate, outdoor rug. Glaring up at me, she yelled, "I didn't want you to open it. I wanted him to open it!"
Oh, crap. Him. Pete. Reluctantly, I looked over at him and felt my cheeks grow hotter still. Standing, dumb-struck, near the curb, his gaze was darting from me to Bianca. Obviously, he had no idea what to say.
Well, that made two of us.
Silently, Pete hustled over and extended a hand to help Bianca up.
She slapped his hand away and screeched out, "I'll have your job for this!"
Double crap.
His job. My shoulders sagged, and I belatedly realized that I was still holding the door handle. I let go, and the door swung slowly shut, leaving all of us standing outside. Correction – two of us were standing. As for Bianca, she was still on the ground, with her legs splayed and one of her jaunty high-heels lying a few feet away.
Looking at her now, a horrible thought occurred to me. What if she was hurt? Was that my fault? Probably. And even worse, what if Pete was the one who'd end up getting blamed for all this?
I shook my head. No. I wouldn't let that happen. I couldn't let that happen, not if I wanted to live with myself.
My mouth opened, but all that came out was a muttered curse. Oddly enough, no one heard it, because Bianca was still screeching, insulting both of us, up, down, and sideways. Finally, she flopped back onto the rug and announced, "You'd better call an ambulance, because I'm pretty sure I broke something."
And this is when a flashy red sports car roared into the turnaround. Jake's car. And, sure enough, there was Jake behind the wheel, but not for long.
Chapter 18
Jake cut the engine and jumped out of the driver's seat, not bothering to shut the car door behind him.
Bianca, still sprawled on the rug, called out, "Jake! Thank God you're here. You won't believe what just happened to me."
Whether he heard her or not, I had no idea, because he didn't even pause. Instead, he strode forward, heading toward both of us – Bianca on the ground, and me, standing just a few feet beyond her.
As I watched, he literally stepped over Bianca and made his way to my side. His gaze searched my face. "Are you okay?" His voice hardened. "Where the hell were you?"
Startled, I drew back. "Out walking. Why?"
His jaw tightened. "Alone? You're joking, right?"
Obviously, I wasn't joking. And from the look on his face, he darn well knew it. But his reaction, well, I didn't know what to make of it.
From a few feet away, Bianca called out, "Didn't anyone hear me?" Her voice rose. "I said I need an ambulance!"
Jake turned, letting his cool gaze travel the length of her. "No, you don't."
With a sound of frustration, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Why doesn’t anyone care? I think I broke my foot."
Jake's eyebrows lifted. He looked slowly and deliberately toward her feet. She was wearing only one shoe. The other still lay on its side a few feet away.
With obvious indifference, Jake said, "Yeah? Which one?"
She hesitated. "I'm not sure. Uh, the right one, I think."
I made a scoffing sound. "You don't even know?"
"Hey!" she said. "I've had a hard day, alright? So excuse me if I'm a little confused." Plaintively, she looked to Jake and reached out with both arms. "Forget the ambulance. Just carry me inside, okay?"
I gave Jake a sideways glance. It suddenly struck me that this sounded an awful lot like what had happened last night with Nipple Girl. She'd supposedly hurt her foot, too. Had she been faking it just like Bianca was now?
I mean, I wasn't a medical expert or anything, but it was pretty obvious that Bianca was fine in spite of her claims otherwise.
I felt my gaze narrow. "You saw that video. Didn't you?"
She blinked up at me. "What video?"
"The one where Jake carried that girl." I turned to Jake and asked, "Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot?"
"Forget that." He reached toward me and touched the side of my face. He frowned. "You're freezing."
I tried for a laugh, but only shivered. "Really? How'd you know?"
He moved closer and wrapped me in his arms. He was warm and dry, and I gave a happy sigh against his chest. Guiltily, I murmured, "I'm getting you all wet."
He lowered his head and spoke into my still-dripping hair. "Nah."
It was a lie, and we both knew it. I could feel his warmth seeping into me, which meant that my cold dampness was seeping into him. Sure, it was great for me, but what about him? What was he getting from all this?
I pulled away and gazed up into his eyes. What I saw there took my breath away. He might've been angry. But he still loved me. I could see it, as clear as day, all over his face. Apparently, I wasn't getting kicked to the curb, not today, anyway.
I breathed a sigh of relief, and not because of my living situation. I was so obnoxiously in love with him, and suddenly, I was beyond eager to put our fight behind us, or at least, take a break from all that.
A truce – there was nothing wrong with that, right?
My clothes were soaked, and I was still freezing. And yet, I couldn't help but smile. I knew just the thing to warm me up – and Jake, too, while I was at it.
Make-up sex.
Jake's voice, harder again, chased my smile away. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"What?" Talk about verbal whiplash. "What do you mean?"
Before he could answer, I heard that dreaded sound – more throat-clearing. I turned to look, and sure enough, there she was, Bianca, standing almost within arm's reach.
Yup. Standing.
So much for her broken foot.
I looked around and became painfully aware that sometime within the last couple of minutes, we had attracted a small audience – a dozen-or-so people, who were clustered around us, under the wide, protective awning.
I recognized a few of them as tenants who lived in the building. About the others, I had no idea.
Probably, they were random gawkers, who'd been walking by and stopped because of all the commotion. Or who knows? Maybe, they were just normal people, trying to get in out of the rain.
Either way, they were all staring, mostly at Jake, not that I could blame them, all things considered.
Next to us, Bianca cleared her throat yet again. By now, it was like fingernails on a chalkboard. I decided that if I never heard that sound again, it would be way too soon.
I turned to her and said, "Just so you know, if you do that much more, I'm pretty sure you're gonna hack up an esophagus or something."
She gave me an annoyed look. "I was trying to get Jake's attention."
"Yeah? Well, it's your esophagus, not mine."
"Exactly," she said. "It is mine. So don't worry about it."
I wasn't worried. Mostly, I wanted to rip that thing out and use it as a muzzle.
But that was probably better left unsaid, so I looked to Jake. As far as I could tell, no amount of throat-clearing would be snagging his attention now. He was scanning the crowd as if searching for someone in particular. Finally, he turned to Bianca and asked, "Where's Vince?"
"Parking the car." She gave me a dismissive glance. "Because someone else wouldn't do it."
Yeah. That someone was me, obviously. Score one for Bianca, not that I was keeping track…much.
Jake frowned. "He's late."
That made me pause. Late for what? I turned to Jake and said, "You knew they were coming?"
"I knew Vince was." He flicked his gaze toward Bianca. "This one's a surprise."
The way it looked, it was a day full of surprises. Vince and Jake weren't exactly friends. Vince was a hot-shot sports agent who represented some of the world's most famous athletes. And Jake? Well, he had a real knack for making those athletes look like total morons.
I knew for a fact that Jake's antics – all caught on video, by the way – had cost Vince and his clients a ton of money in lost endorsement deals and who-knows what else.
"I don't get it," I said. "Why are you meeting with Vince?"
Next to us, Bianca said, "It's not just Vince. He's meeting with me, too. Remember?"
As if I could forget.
Seeking a shred of privacy, I leaned closer to Jake and asked, "But why? What's going on?"
For a few crazy weeks, I'd actually worked for Vince. During that short, tumultuous time, I'd learned a few things, and most of them were unpleasant.
For starters, Vince wasn't nearly as nice as he pretended to be. And even if he were, Jake had plenty of reasons to loathe him. Some of those reasons involved me.
"Ask me later," Jake said. "For now, wait here, okay? I'm gonna give Pete a message. And then, we'll get you upstairs."
Silently, I nodded. The way I saw it, the sooner we were inside, the better.
Jake gave me a serious look. "I mean it. Don’t go anywhere, okay? Because if I have to find you again–" He paused. "Just don't make me, alright?"
That didn’t make any sense. Jake hadn't found me. I'd shown up here mostly on my own, right here, where we both lived. Finding me couldn't have been that hard.
I might have argued, but Jake was already making his way toward Pete. As he did, Bianca sidled closer to me and said, "In case you were still wondering, the answer is 'no'."
I gave her a perplexed look. "No to what?"
"To your question."
I blinked. "There was a question?"
"The video from last night," she said. "No. I didn't see it. I didn't have to." She smiled. "Because unlike some people, I was there."
At this, I almost laughed in her face. "Where? At the convention center?" I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right."
"You don't believe me?"
"Hell no, I don't believe you." I straightened. "I was there last night. You weren't."
"That's what you think." She smirked. "And unlike you, I was there for the whole thing."
"Like I'm gonna believe that. You're like the biggest liar on the planet."
At this, she had the nerve to look insulted. "I am not!"
"Oh yeah?" I glanced down. "How's your broken foot?"
"Much better." She pursed her lips. "Thanks ever so much for asking."
I gave her a snotty smile. "You're so very welcome."
With that, I turned away, hoping she'd take the hint. I was already cold and soggy. A double-dose of Bianca wouldn't improve anything.
But apparently, she wasn't done yet. "If you don't believe me," she said, "ask Jake. He was the one who invited me."
"Uh-huh," I said, not bothering to look at her. "Sure he did."
Just then, Jake returned to my side. He wrapped an arm around my waist and said, "Come on. Let's get you upstairs."
I glanced out toward his car, still parked in the turnaround. The driver's side door was still open. "What about your car?" I asked. "Don't you want to move it or something?"
"No. What I want is to get you inside."
I gave his car a worried look. "Yeah, but—"
"Don't worry about it," Jake said. "It's handled."
Next to us, Bianca spoke up. "What about me? I'm not 'handled.' Aren't you taking me upstairs, too?"
Jake spared her half a glance. "Nope."
"Why not?" Bianca demanded.
As an answer, Jake started steering me away. Over his shoulder, he told Bianca, "When Vince shows up, have him meet me in my office."
A minute later, Jake and I were finally alone inside the elevator. His arm was wrapped tight around my waist, and I couldn't resist leaning into him. I heard myself sigh. "Talk about a crazy day."
And it had been crazy. Unfortunately, none of it was the good kind of crazy.
But, in happier news, the day wasn't over yet. Next to me, Jake felt so amazingly good. All I wanted to do now was forget everything, at least for a little while, and get lost in the nearness of him.
Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way.
Inside the elevator, Jake pulled away and turned to face me. His gaze grew dark, and an unfamiliar edge crept into his voice, "You wanna know what's crazy?"
From the look on his face, I wasn't so sure. Still, I managed to say, "What?"
He gave a slow shake of his head. "You."
My mouth fell open. Here I was, standing next to a guy who took insane chances every day, and he was calling me crazy?
"Me?" I tried to laugh. "I'm the crazy one?"
"Yeah. You are." His voice held no hint of humor. "And wanna know what else?"
At the tone of his voice, my own humor was rapidly evaporating. "I dunno. Do I?"
"You keep it up, you're gonna make me crazy."
I stared up at him, wondering what on Earth he was talking about. It was true that before I'd left for that stupid walk, we'd been arguing, and probably, that argument wasn't quite over. But there was no way on Earth that Jake's craziness could be pinned on me.
I thought of all the wild stunts he'd pulled off, long before I'd been part of the picture. By any measure, he was a million times more crazy than I could ever be on my craziest day.
"I hate to tell you this," I said, "but you were crazy long before I showed up."
"Yeah? You think?" Suddenly, he slammed the back of his fist onto the elevator's emergency-stop button. Almost immediately, we came to an abrupt stop.
Startled, I looked up. According to the display, we were somewhere between the fourteenth and fifteenth floors. I looked to Jake and asked, "What'd you do that for?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He scrolled across the screen until he found whatever it was he was looking for. He shoved the phone in front of my face and said, "You wanna explain this?"
I felt myself frown.
Actually, I didn't.
Chapter 19
Looking at the image on his phone, I felt a surge of heat flash across my face. Maybe that was a good thing. If nothing else, I wasn't cold anymore.
Think positive, right?
I was looking at an i
mage of me, rushing along that deserted city-street sometime within the last half-hour. In the picture, my hair was already soaked, and worse, so were my clothes.
Embarrassed by how I looked, I wanted to look away. But I didn't. Instead, I gave the picture a good, long look, taking in every detail – correction, every sordid detail.
My low-cut, frilly white blouse was plastered to my skin in a way that was shockingly obscene. Through the thin, soaked fabric, I could see the clear outline of my lacy white bra, and worse, the faint pink circles of my nipples, embarrassingly erect, thanks to the cold – because let's face it, there had been nothing arousing about that whole experience.
My gaze dipped to the shorts. Obviously, the denim wasn't see-through – thank God – but the soaked fabric was plastered so tight to my skin that the shorts looked like they might've been painted on.
Overall, the effect was pretty darn disturbing. It's not that I looked bad, exactly. I mean, if I were alone with Jake, that was one thing. But to be out in public looking like that?
I looked like a party-girl of the paid variety.
Yikes.
But it's not like I'd planned it that way.
I was still staring at the picture when Jake abruptly pulled his phone away and said, "You got something you wanna tell me?"
No. I didn't. Not if he was going to ask like that.
And, besides, I had a question of my own. "How'd you get that picture?"
"You wanna know? Answer my question first."
"That's not fair," I said, feeling my own anger bubble to the surface. "I deserve to know how you got that."
In my mind, I saw hidden cameras and spies, lurking around every corner. Was Jake having me followed? And if so, why? Didn't he trust me?
Jake spoke again. "Are you gonna tell me or not?"
"I don't know." I crossed my arms and tossed his own words right back at him. "Are you gonna tell me or not?"
Silently, he stared down at me, looking like he wanted to hit something. I wasn't worried, not about that. But if I were someone else, like a guy for example, the look on Jake's face would be ringing all kinds of alarm bells.
I paused. Alarm bells – that made me realize something. Jake had just hit the elevator's stop button. Probably, somewhere downstairs, alarm bells were ringing for real.
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