Pete turned to study the cluster of chairs. His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked uncertain.
She lifted her hand and touched his elbow. When Pete turned to look, she gave him a dazzling smile and said, "Don't worry. I'll behave. I promise."
Pete looked around, only to stop in mid-motion when his gaze landed on me. His face froze in an expression that practically screamed, "Oh, crap."
Well, that was nice.
I liked him. I'd even defended him. So why was he looking at me like I was the problem? Before I knew it, I was striding straight toward them.
When I reached their side, Pete looked from me to her. He swallowed and glanced toward the doors, as if tempted to bolt.
I suddenly realized something. I'd probably had the same look on my own face just a few hours earlier, when Miss Table-for-Ten had been treating me like dirt.
The realization was the cold splash of reality that I needed. It wasn't Pete's fault that I was desperate for answers and unafraid to seek them head-on. But that didn't mean I had to run away either.
With an effort, I summoned up what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "Don't worry," I told him, giving Nipple Girl a sideways glance. "I'll behave, too." My smile felt too thin and too fake, but I kept it plastered there anyway, for Pete's sake, not hers.
Pete's gaze bounced from me to her. Finally, he gave a short nod, and turned away. As I watched, he walked out of the building and stood near the curb, facing away from us.
To give us some privacy? Or to wash his hands of the whole sorry situation?
If the latter was the case, I couldn’t say I blamed him.
I was still staring after him when I heard Nipple Girl say, "So, do you work for Jake, or…?"
I turned to look at her. Her expression was friendly enough, but I couldn’t return the favor. I wasn't feeling friendly, and I didn't see any reason to fake it.
Her question hung in the air, and I didn't know what to say. For a such simple question, it was insanely complicated, so instead of answering, I lobbed back a question of my own. "Do you?"
I was pretty sure I knew the answer to that, but hey, it would get the ball rolling, right?
Her brow wrinkled. "Do I work for him?" She shook her head. "Not yet." She flashed me a sudden smile. "But I'm hoping to." She glanced around. "In fact, that's why I'm here. I was hoping to talk to him."
Talk to him, huh? I snorted, "Yeah, I just bet."
The last time I'd seen her, in that video, she'd been trying to do a lot more than talk. A snapshot from that whole sorry scene flashed in my brain. She was clutching Jake's legs, and had her face plastered to his crotch.
If she'd been hoping to talk to his privates, she'd been in the perfect position.
Her smile faded. "Oh, no. You're his girlfriend, aren't you?" She looked heavenward and added, "Oh fiddlesticks. I should've known that."
Fiddlesticks?
The scene was starting to feel eerily familiar. Just a few weeks earlier, another strange – and yeah, obscenely attractive – girl had shown up in a hotel room that I'd been sharing with Jake. She'd played Miss Nicey-Nice, all the while giving me the obvious impression that she and Jake were doing the naked pretzel on the side.
It had almost destroyed our relationship. But of course, that had been the intention all along, hadn't it?
I gave Nipple Girl a long, cold look. That last girl had been a low-level actress hired by Vince Hammond.
Was he up to his old tricks? It sure as hell looked like it.
God, what an idiot. Like I'd fall for the same trick twice. How stupid did he think I was, anyway?
In front of me, the girl gave a nervous laugh. "I saw he had a girlfriend, but I was hoping that wouldn't be an issue."
Oh, for crying out loud.
I was getting a little tired of this whole stupid scene. How many actresses would Vince be sending my way before he got the message? And why on Earth was he doing this at all? Didn't he and Jake have some sort of truce?
Then again, why should I be surprised? Vince wasn't exactly the honorable type, was he?
Maybe it was time to play this differently, to show Vince that his crazy schemes wouldn't work on me, not anymore.
I felt myself smile. Maybe it was time to give him – and any actresses he sent – a taste of their own medicine.
Chapter 51
Standing in the lobby, I considered her last statement. "I saw he had a girlfriend, but I was hoping that wouldn’t be an issue."
Right. Because when it came to Jake, I'd just love to share, and who knows, maybe join in the fun. The more the merrier, right?
At the thought of Jake with anyone else, I felt my fingers clench and my mouth go dry. But of course, that was supposed to be my reaction, wasn't it?
Obviously, her words were scripted to get under my skin, to cause friction between me and Jake, to start yet another argument, and cause Jake trouble.
But that wasn't going to happen. Not this time.
With new resolve, I kept my smile in place. "Oh, he does have a girlfriend, but you're right. We can't let that stop us." I leaned close and lowered my voice. "Tell me, do you still have that dress?"
She took a half step backward. "What dress?"
"You know, that sexy, sequined thing." I licked my lips and practically purred, "It looked so hot."
She hesitated. "Why, uh, thank you. It was supposed to, actually." She gave a little wince. "I hope you're not angry about that."
I gave an exaggerated eye-roll. "Angry? Why would I be angry?" In a breathy voice, I said, "You know what I want?"
From the look on her face, she didn't really want to know. But I had to give her credit. After the briefest hesitation, she managed to ask, "What?"
"A repeat performance."
She blinked. "I'm afraid I'm not following."
I gave a breezy wave of my hand. "Oh, don't be coy. We're all adults, right?" I leaned even closer and said, "Tell me, what do you think of mayonnaise?"
She hesitated. "Uh, it tastes fine, I guess."
"Oh, please." I gave a little giggle. "We don't want you to eat it. We want you to roll in it. We've got this big room upstairs that we cover in plastic…" I gave another hand-wave. "Well, you know, you've probably got one of those, too, right?"
From the look on her face, she apparently didn't.
When she said nothing, I asked, "Don't tell me you're more of a mustard girl?"
She gulped. "Mustard?"
Her gaze shifted toward Pete, who was still standing outside, near the curb. The way it looked, she was praying for some sort of rescue, or maybe just a distraction.
Oh, I had a distraction for her. "If you like him," I said, "we can ask him to join us."
She turned back to me and said, "Pardon?"
"The doorman," I said, giving her a sloppy grin. "You like his uniform. Am I right?"
"Uh, yeah. It's um, really nice."
I leaned toward her. "I know what we'll do. We'll make him wear it." I gave a dreamy sigh and gushed, "I just love a man in uniform, don't you?"
"Uh–"
"Oh hey, a quick question… Do you have glasses?"
"Uh, glasses?"
"You know, like reading glasses."
She hesitated. "Actually, I wear contacts. Why?"
I made a show of looking disappointed. "It's just that, well, if you wore glasses, you could fling them off, all sexy like, you know, like that slutty librarian in my favorite porno." In a loud stage-whisper, I added, "Speaking of pornos, you don't care if we film it, do you?"
She croaked, "It?"
Even through her perfect makeup, I could see the color rising, hot and fast, to her cheeks. I recalled the last actress that Vince had sent. She'd been a local girl who'd mostly done bikini ads for her family's car dealership.
This new girl was definitely more upscale, and a better actress, too.
I had to give credit. She'd pulled off the drunken bimbo act perfectly. And now, she was doing a pretty good job of acting
all horrified.
Or, who knows? Maybe that part wasn't an act. After all, there was a big difference between acting like a drunken bimbo and actually following through on the sort of things I was suggesting.
Obviously, the script had called for me to be horrified. Probably, I was supposed to be upstairs by now, sobbing into my pillow or pacing the floors, waiting for Jake to return so I could let him have it.
At the expression on her face, I almost wanted to laugh. Yeah, maybe she was just doing a job, but didn't she know? Real people could get hurt.
And not just me. Jake.
If I had my way, she'd never be pulling crap like this again, not on Jake, not on me, and not on anyone else either.
And if this worked out the way I thought, she'd run straight to Vince and tell him that his latest scheme hadn't worked.
She might give him details. Or she might not.
At this point, I hardly cared. I just wanted this to end, already.
Knowing Vince – that snake – she wouldn't be the last girl he sent. But eventually, if I kept doing this, he'd surely get the message.
I felt a real smile spread across my face. The next girl he sent, maybe I'd whip out some celery and offer to spank her ass with it. At the thought, I almost laughed out loud.
In front of me, she'd gone still and silent. Her gaze shifted to the lobby doors.
Yeah, that's right. Run. And don't come back.
Looking to drive the point home, I asked, "So, do you charge by the hour, or…?"
To my surprise, she didn't run. Instead, she did something that I should've seen coming.
She slapped me.
Chapter 52
I stood, dumb-struck, as she pulled back her hand and gave a little gasp. "Oh, my God. I'm so sorry."
And the way it looked, she meant it.
Well, that just sucked. I wanted to slap her back. But could I?
I mean, she'd just apologized for it. It seemed terribly unsporting to slap someone who'd just said they were sorry.
Damn it.
I could still feel it, the heat of her hand, burning across my cheek. My fingers twitched with pent-up frustration and the urge to strike back.
Maybe I could follow her lead, do the quick one-two slap-apology combo. Then, she'd be in my shoes. See how she felt then.
Take that, Nipple Girl.
In front of me, her breathing was ragged, and her eyes were glistening.
Looking at her, my shoulders sagged.
Oh, crap.
The way it looked, she was ready to cry.
Well that made two of us. I mean, it's not like my day had been so terrific either. And who invited her here, anyway?
No one. That's who.
In front of me, she was making an obvious effort to pull herself together. She swiped at her eyes, rubbing away unshed tears.
Or maybe, that was all just part of the show.
I gave her a hard look. "Who are you, anyway?" Before she could answer, I held up a hand. "Wait. Better yet. Who sent you?"
"No one." She gave me a shaky smile. "But I am a friend of Jake's P.R. director."
Huh?
Jake didn't have a P.R. director. Did he?
"Who do you mean?" I asked. But even as I said it, I knew the answer. I gritted my teeth and said it out loud. "Bianca."
The girl in front of me nodded. "You know her?"
"Oh, do I ever."
Her brow wrinkled. "Is that a problem?"
I had no idea what to say. Yes, it was a huge problem for too many reasons to count. "So Bianca put you up to that?"
"To what? Hitting you?" She winced. "No. Sorry. That was all me." She squinted toward my cheek and asked, "Is your face okay?"
"Forget that," I told her. "I meant that scene at the convention center. Was that Bianca's doing?"
She hesitated. "Well, not all of it. I mean, I like to think I put my own touches on it, you know?"
Touches? If she meant touching Jake's crotch with her face, she'd certainly accomplished that.
In front of me, she perked up. "But Bianca did pick out my dress."
I felt my jaw tighten. Bianca and dresses – I knew exactly how that went. When she'd helped me pick out a dress, I'd ended up looking like a prairie lady.
But at least my nipples hadn't been popping out all over the place.
The tears long-gone, she leaned forward and asked, "So, did he like it?"
"What? The dress?"
"Well, that too. But I meant the audition."
I gave a little shake of my head. "What audition?"
"At the convention center. Bianca said he was looking for a co-star. Or maybe a recurring character?" Her eyes brightened, but this time, not with tears. "Someone really sexy and flamboyant."
Well, she had been that.
"So," she continued, "what did he think?"
I couldn’t recall his exact words, but I knew exactly what he'd thought. According to Jake, she'd been drunk, nauseous, and stinky, well, as far as her perfume, anyway.
I didn't smell any perfume now. But who knows? Maybe that was Bianca's brainchild, too.
It would be just like her.
The more I thought about it, the more I decided that the person who really needed slapping was Bianca.
When I saw her next, maybe I would.
And I wouldn’t be apologizing for it either.
Take that, Bianca.
The girl's voice broke into my thoughts. "Oh, no. You're mad about my performance, aren't you?"
Was I?
Definitely.
But somehow, I didn't think I was mad at her. Not anymore. "Actually," I admitted, "I'm not sure."
She bit her lip. "I’m sorry I got carried away. It was supposed to be just an act, but…" She licked her lips. "He is so hot. Once I got started, I just couldn't stop myself."
I watched, in new horror, as she started fanning herself, even as her voice became husky. "When he carried me out of there, I thought, 'Oh yeah, baby. Take me to heaven. I'm ready to go.'"
At something in my face, she drew back and cleared her throat. "But, of course, I was just a little tipsy."
Tipsy? More like drunk off her ass. But from the look on her face, she already knew that. Why rub it in?
"And," she continued, "in my defense, I didn't know beforehand that he had a girlfriend." Her brow wrinkled. "Funny that Bianca didn't mention that."
"Yeah. Funny."
She gave a shaky laugh. "Thank goodness for the internet."
"Uh. Yeah."
She lowered her voice. "Can I tell you a secret? I was so nervous, I came this close to throwing up on him. Pretty embarrassing, huh?"
Listening to this, all I could think was, more embarrassing than the nipple? Really?
But I didn't say it, because I was coming to a startling realization. I actually liked her. She was refreshingly honest, especially for a friend of Bianca's.
But I still felt like I was missing something. "About today," I asked, "did Bianca send you here?"
"Not exactly." She glanced around. "But about the co-star thing, she never got back to me. And now, I can't seem to reach her. I didn't have her home-address, so I figured I'd come here, straight to the source."
By now, I was actually feeling sorry for her. "And you said Bianca's a friend?"
Some friend.
She considered my question. "Well, we are members of the same theatre group."
Curious, I asked, "What kind?"
She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Just a local thing. But hey, you never know when you'll catch that big break, right?" She smiled. "And once I learned of the co-star job, I was all in."
I recalled the scene from the convention center.
All in?
Not so much.
As nicely as I could, I said, "I’m really sorry to tell you this, but there's no co-star job."
Her smile faded. "There isn't?"
I shook my head. "And there never was."
"But Bian
ca said…" Her words trailed off, like she didn't know where to go from there.
Hoping to spare her some grief, I said, "Bianca doesn't even work for him."
Her face froze. "She doesn't?"
"No. And they're not even friends. Not really."
She was frowning now. After a long moment, she muttered, "That bitch."
And the way it looked, she didn't mean me.
Chapter 53
I'd been upstairs for less than an hour when the doorbell rang. Through the closed condo doors, I heard Steve call out, "Hurry up. I’m sweating my ass off out here."
When I opened the door, Steve, with Anthony on his heels, barreled into the condo and said, "You got the beer, right?"
"Yeah," I said, watching as they strode toward the kitchen. "I picked it up yesterday."
With Jake gone, I'd been working like crazy to get everything else done, including shopping for this little pizza and Kung fu party.
At the thought of Jake, I couldn’t help but smile. In just a few short hours, he'd finally be home, and I was dying to see him.
Over the last two days, we'd been talking plenty on the phone, but it was poor substitute for the real thing.
In the kitchen, Steve yanked open the fridge and started rummaging around inside. He emerged a few second later with a bottle of beer in each hand.
He tossed one to Anthony and opened his own. He took a long pull and said, "Man, I'm sweating my ass off."
"Uh, yeah," I said. "You kind of mentioned that." I moved forward for a better look. He did, in fact, look kind of sweaty.
"What happened?" I asked. "Is the air on the fritz again?"
"In the truck? Nah." Steve glanced vaguely toward the condo doors. "We had to take the stairs." He practically shuddered. "Remember?"
Warmth flooded my face. Mental note – traumatizing my brothers with details of my sex life might work fine in the short-term. But in the long-term? Well, let's just say it wasn't the smartest plan.
"Hey, I know," I said. "What you could do is take one of the other elevators—"
"They don't reach this floor," Steve reminded me.
"Yeah, I know," I said. "But you could get off—"
"Stop." He gave me an annoyed look. "Get off? Really?"
"Oh, shut up," I said. "What I mean is that you take another elevator to the eighteenth floor, and then, you'd only have to walk up two flights." I offered up a shaky smile. "What do you think?"
Jake Forever (Jaked Book 3) Page 24
