I snickered. "Probably so you don't drown his anymore."
"Maybe. But tell me…" She lowered her voice. "Jack's not with you now, is he?"
"No. He's out getting me a shirt."
"What, why?"
"Because mine got ripped."
"How?"
Probably I'd said too much already. "Oh, the usual way."
In a tight voice, she said, "There is no usual way."
"All right, fine," I said. "There was this little altercation with these two girls, but it was nothing, so don't worry."
"But—"
"Forget that," I said. "Jack should be back any minute." In reality, he should've been back a while ago. But that wasn't worth mentioning, so I cut to the chase. "Why would you warn me not to work for him?" I tried to laugh. "Don't tell me he's a serial killer or something."
But my sister wasn't laughing. "If he were, I'd be flying up there to get you myself."
Knowing my sister, she probably would. Still, I didn't get why she was so concerned. "Okay, so what's wrong with him?"
"Nothing's wrong with him," she said. "But he's really secretive."
"Yeah. No kidding." On our way to Atlanta, I'd spent nearly three hours alone with him on his private jet, and he hadn't said more than a dozen words to me the whole time.
In cheerier news, he'd looked very good doing it.
On the phone, my sister was saying, "I think he might've been a spy or something. Or maybe he still is."
Now I couldn't help but laugh. Normally my sister was one of the most sensible people I knew. This was not one of those times. "Oh, stop it."
"I'm not kidding," she said. "He broke into Flynn's house."
I stopped laughing. "Really? So he stole stuff?"
"No. It was more like a game."
"What kind of game?"
"Well…Flynn has this amazing security system. No one can get past it." After a dramatic pause, she added, "Except for Jack. I saw it myself."
I envisioned Flynn's estate. Even the yard was practically a fortress. "So he got past the gate?"
"Not just the gate," she said. "The house, too, meaning the inside."
I tried to think. "Well, maybe Flynn gave him a key. After all, you gave me one."
"That's not it," she said. "Trust me. Jack has nothing – no remote to the gate, no key to the house, and no alarm code either."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. Flynn told me so himself."
"So…Is Jack still breaking in?"
"No. Not since the engagement, anyway."
"I can see why," I said. "He probably doesn't want to scare the pants off you."
"Yeah, but it's still kind of scary. Like, how does he do that?"
Good question. "Did you ask Flynn?"
"Sure."
"And what'd he say?"
"All he said was, 'Jack's an interesting guy.'"
No kidding. "But you didn't ask for details?"
"Sure," she said yet again.
"But…?"
"Flynn said they weren't his secrets to share and asked me to leave it at that."
"And you did?"
"Of course. It's only fair. It's not like I tell Flynn everything about you. I mean, you like your privacy, too, right?"
Damn it. As usual, my sister was way too reasonable for my own good. I muttered, "I guess."
And now I was seriously torn. Part of me wanted to beg Anna to learn everything she could. But on the other part realized the request would only make her worry.
This was the last thing I wanted. "Well, his secrets can't be that bad," I said, "or he wouldn't be friends with Flynn."
"Yeah, but Flynn can handle himself. He was in juvie, remember?"
Of course I remembered. Flynn was a poor kid who'd had some hard knocks – much harder than he deserved, thanks to my stupid stepdad.
Still, I replied, "Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?"
"I'm just saying, if there's trouble, Flynn could handle it."
"And I couldn’t?" I made a scoffing sound. "For your information, I totally kicked a girl's ass today."
"What?" she said. "Please tell me you're joking."
"All right, fine. I guess I'm joking." This was surprisingly true. At best, I'd come out even. Still, I tried to look on the bright side. "But she didn't kick mine either."
My sister was quiet for a long moment before saying, "Well…I guess that's good."
I smiled. Yes. It was. "But back to Jack," I said. "What are you saying? You don't like him?"
"That's not it," she said. "I do like him, a lot, actually."
"But…?"
"But I don't really know him. And even that book tour – it doesn't make any sense."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, for one thing, Jack's never done any book-signings, until now."
"So?"
"So, what's changed?"
"Maybe he just never had the time."
"Maybe," she grudgingly admitted. "But did you check out the list of cities? They're all over the place. It makes no sense at all."
I knew what she meant. Over the next few months, we'd be bouncing all over the country in no predictable pattern. Most of the cities I didn't even recognize, so yes, it did seem a bit strange.
But to Anna, all I said was, "Well, he's got a private jet, so maybe he doesn't need to make sure the cities are close together." I paused to think. "I mean, it's not like we're traveling by bus."
"Yeah, but the cities on their own don't make any sense either. Do you know, one of them has a population of only five-thousand people? It doesn't even have a book store. He's doing the signing at the local library."
"So?"
"So why would he even go there?"
"Maybe he likes small towns. Or libraries. I don't know."
"I like those places, too," she said. "But Jack hates publicity."
"So?" I said yet again. "Maybe that's why he picked small towns." I smiled. "Less publicity. See?"
"But they're not all small."
"Well maybe he likes a mix." And now, I just had to ask, "And why were you looking at the cities, anyway?"
"Because I was worried about you." She sighed. "I wasn't lying. I like Jack, truly. I'm just saying he's kind of scary."
Did I really need to say it? "So is your fiancé."
"He is not." She cleared her throat. "And besides, that's different."
Not the way I saw it. I loved my sister. Really, I did. But sometimes she forgot that I wasn't a kid anymore.
It was sad and funny at the same time. If our mom had only worried half as much, our lives would've been a whole lot easier.
Looking to put Anna's mind at ease, I said, "Well, we're in Atlanta now. And this event totally makes sense. It's part of a huge expo."
"Yeah, I guess." She perked up. "But you know what you should do?"
"What?"
"Forget the tour. Come to the island with us."
"But I can't just quit," I said. "That would be awful rude, don't you think?" In truth, I was surprised she'd even suggest it. Usually, my sister was polite to a fault.
But on the phone, she was saying, "Not as rude as you'd think. According to Flynn, Jack was planning for a solo trip, anyway."
My jaw dropped. "What? With no assistant or anything?"
"Exactly."
"But how could he do that?"
"I don't know," she said. "Probably he'd just have the local people handle it, like librarians and what-not."
I frowned. So my job was what? A pity thing?
This wasn't what I wanted to hear.
And my sister still wasn't giving up. "And as far as the island, there's a wonderful house with lots of room, and a guest bungalow, too. You could stay for the whole summer."
Now I didn't know what to say.
When I made no reply, she said, "You do know, Flynn thinks of you as a sister, right?"
"I know." I smiled through my distress. "He feels like family to me, too."r />
"And I'm just saying, if you want to take the summer off, you wouldn't need to worry about anything."
It was an old debate, one we'd been having for months. But I didn't want to be that person – someone who couldn't stand on her own two feet.
I asked, "Will I be getting college credit, too?"
She hesitated. "I don't know. I mean, maybe we could—"
"It was a joke," I said.
"Oh." She paused. "But my offer was serious. Will you at least think about it?"
I didn't have to think. "Thanks, but no."
"Why not?"
"Because of my internship. It'll be good experience." And, I silently vowed, I was going to earn every penny – while proving to Jack that my position wasn't superfluous.
My sister was still trying to convince me when a knock sounded at the powder room door. I turned and called out, "Who is it?"
"Jack," he said. "I've got the shirt."
Into the phone I whispered, "I've gotta go. But trust me, everything's fine."
"But wait," she said. "First, let me give you the number to my new phone."
"Just text it to me, okay? Now sorry, but I've really gotta go." And with that, I ended the call and shoved my cell phone back into my pocket.
Clutching the borrowed jacket tight around my torso, I opened the powder room door. When I did, Jack thrust a colorful wad of clothing vaguely in my direction.
With my free hand, I took it and shook out its folds. "What's this?"
"A shirt, like I said."
I frowned down at the thing. "Are you sure?"
"I’m sure enough," he said. "The signing starts in five minutes. You gonna be ready?"
I was still looking at the shirt. I didn't want to complain, but it really was hideous. It was like a checkerboard had gotten drunk and fathered a love child with a medieval clown.
Yikes.
When I gave Jack a perplexed look, he said, "Hey, it is what is." His gaze dipped to my torso. "And I don't trust the jacket."
I didn't either. But that wasn't the point. More confused than annoyed, I said, "But I gave you the key to my room."
"So?"
"So I had lots of shirts in the closet. And I guess I'm a little curious why didn't you just grab one of those."
"Because I didn't have time."
How was that possible? He'd been gone for forty minutes. My hotel room was only a ten-minute walk away. There and back would've taken him twenty minutes with another twenty to spare.
I stared up at him. "So, did you stop off for coffee or something?"
"No." His voice hardened. "Now are you gonna get dressed or not?"
Still, I hesitated. Maybe this was some sort of test?
Or maybe a punishment?
I frowned. A Shirt of Shame?
Given Jack's personality, I could almost see it.
But if he wanted to watch me cringe and shudder – well more than I had already– he was in for a rude awakening, because I refused to give him the satisfaction.
So instead I summoned up a cheerful smile. "Sure. I'd just love to put it on, as soon as you leave."
He was gone before I'd barely finished the sentence – like the mere thought of my flesh made him want to run for the hills.
Well that wasn't humiliating or anything.
Unfortunately, my humiliation was far from over.
Chapter 26
Becka
The book signing started out surprisingly well.
After a brief introduction by one of the event's organizers, I leapt into action, guided by a list of instructions provided by the publishing company.
It was a good thing I had them, too, considering that Jack had given me nearly no direction at all. No. All he'd said was, "Remember, it's not your job to keep the peace."
It's not like I'd needed the warning. The crowd, even as big as it was, looked peaceful enough. They'd even formed an official line in front of the table where Jack would be signing his books.
Sure, the line was obscenely long, but I saw no reason to worry. The process was nice and simple. Someone would come up with a book – or sometimes multiple books – and I'd greet that person while Jack finished up with the previous person.
In short, he manned the table while I manned the line. Easy-peasy.
I had to admit, Jack was a lot friendlier than I might've expected – not to me, of course, but to his fans.
But his fans were nice, too. In fact, some of them were a little too nice. By the end of the first hour, Jack had been propositioned three times already – once by someone old enough to be his grandmother and twice by girls younger than me.
And then, there were the guys. The way it looked, they practically worshipped him, treating him like some sort of rock star or something.
I was watching Jack sign a paperback for a guy named Maurice when the next guy in line – someone who'd given his name as Bradley – asked, "So, who are you supposed to be?"
"Me? I'm Jack Ward's assistant." With a sheepish smile, I added, "Well during the tour, anyway."
The guy frowned. "No. I meant your costume. Are you like a clown or something?"
I looked down. Okay, my shirt did have a certain clownish quality, but it's not like I was wearing floppy red shoes. "Nope. I'm just wearing plain ol' regular clothes."
His frown deepened. "You sure?"
I considered my shirt. "Um…Maybe?"
He eyed my outfit up and down. "Nah. I don't think so."
"Well, my skirt's regular." I pointed to my feet. "And so are my shoes."
The guy studied my outfit for another long moment, and eventually gave a slow nod. "Ohhhh, I get it." With a sudden grin, he announced, "You're a half-clown hybrid, like in Circus House 3."
I froze.
Circus House?
Three?
I had no idea what that was. A video game? A movie? A comic book? But the guy looked so pleased with himself that I didn't have the heart to pop his proverbial balloon.
I smiled. "Boy, that's a really good guess." I think.
"So I was right?" His grin widened. "I knew it!"
Well, that made one of us. But hey, if he was happy, I was happy.
As the book signing continued, I took at least some comfort from the fact that my outfit wasn't nearly as outlandish as some others, even if it did generate more commentary than I liked.
But why fight it, right?
I was just getting into a nice, steady groove when, at the back of the line, I spotted trouble times two.
It was the two girls from earlier.
When they saw me looking, the blonde gave a fluttery little wave and lifted an oversized paperback high enough for me to see.
I felt my gaze narrow. It was my book.
I was sure of it.
With growing concern, I turned and gave Jack a sideways glance. From his spot at the table, he was signing a new hardcover of "Swordplay" for a cute older lady name Marie.
If Jack noticed the dynamic duo, he gave no sign.
Was that good? Or bad?
Heck if I knew.
As for the line itself, I still managed to keep it going. As I did, I watched with growing unease as the girls moved ever closer to the front. By the time they finally reached me, I was simmering with anger and agitation.
The blonde gave me a sunny smile. "Hi."
I didn't smile back. "Hi."
She held up the paperback. "I'm here to get my book signed."
My jaw clenched. "Your book?"
She gave a toss of her golden hair. "It's mine now."
Next to her, the brunette snickered.
Now here's where things got sticky. I wasn't stupid. I knew they were goading me. But I'd be foolish to take the bait.
Even so, I had to forcibly remind myself that the paperback was probably replaceable, especially with the money that I was earning from Jack.
Plus, I was here in a professional capacity. I could be professional, right?
Stiffening my resolv
e, I forced a smile and held out my hand toward the book. "Great. And your name's Darbie, right?"
She clutched the book tighter. "Heeeeey, how do you know?"
Wasn't it obvious? "Because I heard it earlier."
"Oh," she said with a little frown. "I guess that's okay."
Fine. Whatever. Again, I reached for the book.
Again, she made no move to relinquish it. Instead, she eyed me with obvious suspicion as she said, "I'm not sure I should."
Yeah, I knew the feeling. Through clenched teeth, I said, "What, you're worried someone will steal it?"
She gave a hard nod. "Exactly."
"Sorry, but that's the process," I said. "You hand me the book. I open it to the right page, and then I tell Jack Ward your name so he can sign it."
Her gaze shifted to Jack, and her eyes brightened. Reluctantly, I turned to look. He was still occupied with the guy in front of her – a teenager who was wearing a metallic shirt designed to look like chain mail.
When I looked back to Darbie, she informed me with a smirk, "I'll hand it to him myself, thank you very much."
Yeah, well, you're not welcome. Still, I gritted out, "Terrific. I'll let him know."
Next to her, the blouse-ripping brunette chimed in, "You bet your ass, you will." Leaning closer, she practically hissed, "And you should've told us that you worked for him."
I smiled. "And you should've told me you were a psycho."
I stifled a gasp. Damn it.
I hadn't meant to say that.
Now both of them were glaring, which was pretty rich considering that one of them was holding stolen merchandise.
My merchandise, to be exact.
The blonde said, "If anyone's a psycho, it's you." She glanced down at my chest, and her tone grew snotty. "Nice shirt, by the way."
Instantly, heat rose to my face. Ah yes. The Shirt of Shame.
Still, I summoned up the brightest smile I could muster. "Thank you. Jack Ward gave it to me."
She blinked. Again, her gaze shifted to Jack. "Really?"
I looked toward the table and felt my blush deepen. The teenager was long gone. But Jack was still there. And he didn't look happy as his gaze shifted from me to the girls.
Great. On top of everything else, I'd been caught flat-footed.
Going for a recovery, I hustled toward him with the two girls on my heels. As I closed the distance, I told Jack, "This is Darbie. And apparently, she's going to hand you the book herself."
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