FOURTEEN
JENNA
The hotel was stunning.
Ten times better than the one that was booked for us last year. Though the rooms were connected, it seemed to be one big penthouse. Our rooms overlooked the ocean, and through the windows I could see the Golden Gate Bridge off in the distance.
There was a door that led from my room to Jude’s. His room was slightly bigger, but only because it came equipped with a wet bar.
The gala was in less than three hours and I needed to be getting ready. I took a quick shower and shaved. When I finished up and had thrown on a pair of shorts and a camisole, a knock sounded on the door that connected our rooms.
“Come in,” I called.
Jude stepped in and met my eyes. I started to smile, but a woman appeared behind him and my smile faded. I blinked rapidly, doing my best to avoid a frown.
“Jenna, I want you to meet Louise. She’s a close friend of mine—one of my best friends, actually—and one of the best makeup artists I know.” Jude came toward me, grabbing my hand and turning me fully to face a smiling Louise. When he touched me, I relaxed and smiled at her.
She was beautiful, in the Plain Jane kind of way. She had reddish brown hair and light brown eyes. She also had a tomboyish demeanor about her, sporting a plaid shirt and dusty-looking jeans.
“You have the dress, but you need to complete the look. Louise is going to do your makeup. Make you look like the queen you are,” Jude informed me.
“Where should I set up?” Louise asked.
Jude lifted his free arm to point at the stools in front the kitchenette counter. Louise bobbed her head and I turned to look at him as she started setting up her things.
“Will she tell your family about this? Us?” I whispered.
“No. I trust her,” Jude murmured.
But do you like her? I wanted to ask. Instead, I nodded as Jude escorted me her way. I sat down on the bench as Louise took out brushes and makeup. “Louise and I went to Harvard together. I got into a lot of trouble with this woman. I think the main reason we’ve stayed good friends is because of our love for pussy,” Jude chuckled, and I snapped my gaze up to his, just as Louise laughed and took out some concealer.
“It would be nice if you stopped using my sexuality to make up for your bachelor ways,” she continued laughing.
Oh. I got it now. She wasn’t interested in men. Relief struck me and I relaxed in my seat even more. Thank goodness. I was so sick of competing.
“I’m going to get ready in my room.” Jude stroked my arm. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will,” I said.
He walked off and cracked the door behind him, and when he was gone, Louise turned to face me, planting a hand on her hip and chomping her gum. “You’re a beautiful girl, but I’m going to make you so hot that Jude gets hard just looking at you.”
I burst out in laughter as she turned for the concealer. “I’m surprised he’s even doing this,” I admitted.
“What?” she asked without looking at me. “Pampering you?”
“Yeah.”
“I must admit, this is a first. He’s never asked me to do a woman’s makeup for him, other than his sisters’.”
“Janelle? Yeah. Are you close with her?”
Louise laughed out loud. “Oh, God, no. A girl like her is hard to be close with. Never met a woman so full of herself—well, other than her mother, of course,” she chuckled.
I smiled. I liked Louise already, and I could see why she was Jude’s best friend.
“Plus, since they found out I was gay,” she continued, applying the concealer to my face, “they don’t really approve of me being around Jude. His mom thinks I’m going to take him to a gay club and the experience will, eventually, turn him gay.”
“Oh, my gosh! No! She said that?” I guffawed.
“Straight to my face.” She popped her gum. “It was years ago. Jude confronted her about it but she didn’t apologize—not that I was really expecting one anyway. Still, she despises me. Jude invited me to the gala this year but I turned it down. Though, I probably should have gone and shown up in a tux. Now that would have set her ass on fire.”
I giggled. I was so glad I wasn’t the only one they treated like that. Louise seemed like a good person. I was a good person. We were good for Jude, I think. We humbled him in a way his family couldn’t, and I think his parents hated that about us. They hated the fact that we could give Jude something they couldn’t.
They wanted him to be just like them—stuck up, arrogant, and full of himself. Jude could be arrogant, but he showed respect when necessary. He could be full of himself, but he also knew when to lower his pride for the company.
The only thing he did get from them was his arrogance, but that was something I didn’t mind so much.
Louise finished my makeup in a little less than an hour and when I looked in the mirror, I could hardly recognize the woman staring back at me. I was sure my smile lit up the room. She’d done a fantastic job.
Louise helped me into my dress after she was finished, zipping it up for me in the back. It was strange—it felt like I’d known her for years. She uplifted and encouraged me and repeatedly told me how lucky Jude was to be walking through the doors of the gala with me at his side. Apparently, he was a fool for not asking me to marry him. That gave me a good laugh.
As I stood in front of the mirror on the wall and applied the finishing touches to complete my look for the event, there was a knock on the door and Jude walked in. I put my earrings in but my focus was on him as soon as he came into full view. Louise had left nearly twenty minutes ago so we were alone again, and that thought resonated loudly in my brain.
Alone.
Together.
No work.
In a hotel.
Just us.
And it wasn’t Sunday.
Jude had a small smile on his lips when he stepped into the room, but it had disappeared immediately when he took in my ensemble. He didn’t blink for several seconds and for a fleeting moment I wondered if this was too much—the makeup, the hair Louise styled in a semi-classy, semi-casual up-do—until he took a step forward and said, “Wow.”
“What?” I asked, facing him full on. “Is it too much?”
“No.” He met up to me, head shaking. “God, no, Jenna. You look…well, shit.” He studied my face and then lowered his gaze to my dress. “You look amazing.”
I dropped my head and couldn’t fight my blush. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Clement.”
And he really didn’t. Jude had gotten his hair cut the day before our flight. His scruff was still there, but it was fuller and lined up. He looked absolutely amazing in his tuxedo and bowtie.
He placed a strong finger beneath my chin, leaving me no choice but to put my eyes on his. “You’re beautiful, Jenna. I’ll have to make sure no one tries to put their hands on you while we’re there.”
I giggled. “I’ll be sure they don’t.”
His smile was soft. “Well, the driver is waiting. We’re already running a little late. I wanted you to have time to finish.” He paused, pressing his lips again. “Louise told me you looked great before she left. She was right.”
I held his hand, watching his lips. I wanted so badly to kiss him—to own those lips. I wanted him to show me I was beautiful with that mouth of his. I wanted him to claim me.
But, as if he noticed me looking at his sculpted mouth, he sighed and stepped back, but kept my hand in his. “Let’s get going. You have everything you need?”
I released his hand and picked up my clutch on the counter. “I do now.” I put on a smile for him. “Let’s get out of here.”
FIFTEEN
JUDAS
I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.
Even during the ride to the gala, it was impossible not to steal a few glances. She looked fucking amazing, and the shimmery gold dress she wore hugged her body, accentuating every single curve she had—every curve I’
d touched on more than one occasion.
I knew my mother and sister were going to say something about her appearance as soon as they saw us walking through the door together. They weren’t fond of Jenna and I wasn’t sure why.
They’d been against her ever since she was hired, probably because I hired my own secretary that time around. For years, they’d been calling the shots, hiring people they wanted, but the previous secretaries were awful and unorganized. Jenna was exceptional at her job.
A part of me thought she intimidated them, mainly because they didn’t have the control over her that they had over the previous secretaries, and also because, with the way she looked that night, it would be impossible for any woman not to feel at least a little uncomfortable and insecure around her.
Jenna was stunning and could have any man she wanted. I had no idea why she was still sticking around with a man like me—a man who wouldn’t even kiss her. I was tempted to, but I knew this wouldn’t go on for long. If I were to kiss her, it would have made things real, and my plans for the future weren’t set in stone yet.
I had to keep the boundaries set, even though I was starting to feel more for her than I wanted to admit.
The driver parked in front of the estate and came around to open my door. I stepped out and went for Jenna’s door immediately, grabbing her hand as she placed a heel on the ground.
I guided her toward the double doors with a hand on the small of her back, resisting the urge to slide my hand lower and squeeze her perfectly plump ass.
“You know, if this dress wasn’t so damn expensive, I would take you somewhere private and rip it right off of you,” I murmured in her ear.
She blushed and the doors opened for us, leading us down a corridor with gold running carpet.
“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep this dress in good shape. It’s the most expensive item of clothing I’ve ever owned, and it’s the only one of its kind.” She smiled up at me warmly.
The halls were decorated with soft white Christmas lights and white and green pine garlands. The carpet that led to the entryway was gold, accenting the decorations. Jenna tensed at my side as we met at the entryway, her warm demeanor suddenly fizzling away, and in her ear, I told her to relax. Visibly, her shoulders lost some of the tension, but not all.
Before we could get far in, I heard my name being called.
I looked for the voice, only to see Janelle, my sister, in a sky-blue designer dress, her blonde hair pinned up, and ruby red lipstick plastered on her lips. She looked from me to the woman at my side, and that tiny smile nearly vanished into thin air.
When she met up to us, Jenna fidgeted, putting on a smile as Janelle ran her eyes up and down her frame, as if she was wondering how and why.
“Hi, brother,” she beamed at me, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around the back of my neck, reeling me in for a hug. She pulled back and focused on Jenna again. “I see you brought the help.” She giggled, but neither Jenna nor I laughed.
Jenna seemed uncomfortable, then, fidgeting at my side.
Fuck. I could already tell it was about to be a long night.
SIXTEEN
JENNA
Janelle was attractive, but not drop-dead gorgeous. She was thin with great breasts and a butt that seemed to be made of constant squats and heavy lifting, and for that, she was practically divine.
She stared at me for several seconds, and by her eyes alone, I could tell she didn’t want me here. Her actions were clear—she didn’t shake my hand or hug me. But of course, her words had to be welcoming. They had guests tonight, which meant she needed to be on her best behavior.
“Where’s Mom?” Jude inquired, ignoring her ignorant statement.
“She and dad are making their rounds. You know how they like to greet everyone themselves before the party actually starts. Mingle, yeah? Maybe you should do the same? I have a few potential investors who are waiting to meet you.”
Janelle put her eyes on me again. “Your dress is very pretty, Jenna. Where did you get it?”
“It’s Dior,” I answered, and her eyes expanded.
“Wow. And how long did it take you to save up to buy it?”
“Janelle,” Jude warned, which also made me bite my tongue. I wanted to respond with a simple, “Jude bought it for me,” but I knew better. For now, at least.
“Well, Jude, you can come with me. I want you to meet the investors before the night begins.”
Jude sighed and when he took a step away, his absence made me weary. “Grab a drink or two. I’ll be back for you,” he murmured over his shoulder at me. Janelle was already walking off like some dainty fairy, on the hunt for the so-called investors.
I nodded and pressed my lips, watching him leave. As I turned and walked to the bar, I took a brief moment to scan the many faces surrounding me. I didn’t see Michaela and was more than glad about it. Maybe she wouldn’t show up at all. Wishful thinking, I know.
When I got to the bar, I ordered a glass of red wine. While the wine was being poured, I swore I felt eyes on me. Looking over my shoulder, I spotted Mrs. Clement with a group of women. She was chatting quietly with them, and then her eyes bounced over to me.
Our eyes met once, and in hers I saw a mixture of disapproval with a sprinkle of what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here?. I jerked my gaze away before I could see what else swam in those light-blue eyes, grabbing my wine and heading for a cocktail table. I took a sip of the semi-sweet wine, placed my clutch down with a sigh, and then opened it, digging through it for my cellphone.
I sent Carrie a quick text message to fill her in and also not to seem like so much of a loser while sipping wine alone at a social event. I knew Carrie was working though. It’d be a while before she got back to me.
“Well, don’t you look nice?” a familiar voice asked beside me. My heartbeat quickened from the mere sound of it. Her voice was like ice, and that ice went skating right down my spine, chilling me to the bone.
I turned, keeping my face casual. I put on a wide, toothy smile as I came face-to-face with Mrs. Clement.
“Mrs. Clement,” I said, doing my best to sound chipper. “It’s so nice to see you. And you look amazing yourself.”
Though the woman was a mega-bitch, she did have style. Her blonde hair was cut in a pixie style that suited the strong structure of her face and her high cheekbones. She had a stern look about her, especially around the eyes, but everything else was very much feminine. She reminded me of Miranda Priestly from my favorite movie, The Devil Wears Prada. Only bitchier.
“Thank you, dear.” She took a step forward, scanning me thoroughly, making me feel uncomfortable. “I’m glad you could make it tonight.” Bullshit. “It’s been months since I’ve seen you. I hope you are still being a good secretary to my son.”
I bobbed my head once. “I am—well, I’m trying my best.”
“Oh, sweetie, with a job like that, you’ll need to be trying more than your best.” Her smile was tight. “Right?”
I kept a smile going, but I so badly wanted to shove my middle finger in her face.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Just wanted to give my greetings. There are a few other people I want to see before they get a little drunk and wild, if you know what I mean.” She tittered and I laughed with her, hoping it sounded genuine.
Mrs. Clement walked off and I let out the breath that was trapped in my lungs, turning for my wine and taking several large gulps. I was going to need more than wine to get through this night.
I looked up and spotted Jude across the room, standing a few feet away from the jazz band, talking to his father. Jude looked a lot like his dad, though he got his eyes and hair color from his mother.
Mr. Clements’ hair had greyed a lot. He was a nice guy—at least he was every time I spoke to him. He didn’t really look down on me the way Mrs. Clement and Janelle did. He wasn’t very welcoming either. He would shake hands and keep to himself, which was more than okay with me. At the end of the day, all h
e really cared about was business, and I was certain that was exactly what he and Jude were talking about in that very moment.
Jude stood there looking wickedly handsome in his suit, smiling and greeting people. He talked confidently, with his head held high and always kept his attention on the person speaking, as if he were truly interested in what they were saying.
I could watch him like this all night.
As he spoke and warmed up with some of the guests, I saw an arm go around his waist, and my heart dropped to my stomach when Michaela appeared at his side.
SEVENTEEN
JENNA
Jealousy.
That’s what I felt. Pure jealousy.
I couldn’t go up to Jude and wrap my arm around his waist. I couldn’t go up to him and laugh in his face, and hang onto him without being condescended or scolded.
Jude peeled Michaela’s arm away and then he turned his head to look in my direction. It’s like he knew I was watching. His expression was one of remorse, but I shook my head, picking up my drink and walking to one of the Poker tables. It wasn’t like I wasn’t expecting it to happen. I knew it would.
I had to do something to distract myself. I’d always been good at Poker. I cashed in, got a few chips, and played several hands. I’d won four, lost one.
I could have played all night, but soon the dancing commenced and I had a direct view of the dance floor. Michaela was trying to get on the dance floor, all but begging Jude for a dance. Jude was clearly irritated, and I prayed that he wouldn’t—that he’d stand her up and walk away.
But of course, he didn’t. To keep up appearances, he danced with her—classically, of course—but it was just the fact that he did it. I lost that round of Poker. I lost another hand when Michaela rubbed his face after the song was over.
I couldn’t handle this anymore.
Crave: The Nora Heat Collection Page 7