Jake Me

by Sabrina Stark

  I just had to ask. "By balcony?"

  "Well I sure as hell wasn't going through the Kung fu zone."

  "Why didn't you wake me?" I asked. "I could've made us waffles or something."

  His voice was low and seductive. "Because, you looked way too sweet to wake. And it wouldn't have been waffles on my mind."

  Heat shot straight to my core. I clutched the phone with both hands and said, "You could come back and not have waffles now. I mean, it's not like I've got to work or anything."

  He gave a dramatic groan. "You're killing me."

  "Why?" I asked.

  "Because I've gotta work, and it can't wait."

  "Why not?"

  "Because it involves you," he said.

  "Me? How?"

  "You wanna come to my office?" he asked. "I'll show you what I've got."

  "I would, but I don't have a car. I mean, I could take the bus, but—"

  "Screw the bus," he said. "I've got a car waiting for you."

  "You do?"

  "Yeah. Right outside your building. Whenever you're ready."

  I felt myself smile. "I'll be ready in a half-hour."

  Sitting in the back seat of a luxurious sedan, I pulled up to Jake's building an hour later, feeling surprisingly nervous. I hadn't been inside since that awful day that I'd left with my brothers. How long ago was that? A couple of weeks? Strange. It felt like longer.

  But when the doorman greeted me like an old friend, it gave me the boost I needed to smile as I made my way inside the building and into the nearest elevator. Recalling where Jake's office was located, I pressed the button for the floor just below the penthouse, where he lived.

  When the elevator doors opened, Trey was standing there as if waiting for me.

  He gave me a glum look. "I told you."

  "You told me what?" I asked.

  "That you were screwing him over." He crossed his arms. "Remember?"

  Actually, I did remember, and I wasn't afraid to admit it. "Look, I was wrong. Okay? And I'm sorry."

  "You don't have to be sorry to me," he said. "You have to be sorry to Jake."

  Behind him, I heard Jake's voice. "Trey, you were supposed to watch for her, not give her a hard time when she showed up. Alright?"

  "I guess so," Trey muttered, turning away.

  I glanced in the direction of Jake's voice and felt myself smile. He looked amazing, larger than life and hot as hell in dark slacks and a stylish grey, button-down shirt that looked way too civilized for the likes of him.

  I wanted to pounce on him and rip that thing off. But first things first. I reached for Trey's elbow. "Trey," I said. "Wait up, okay?"

  He turned around to give me a sullen look. "What?"

  "I mean it," I said. "I'm sorry." I felt a smile tug at my lips. "You want to know something?"

  He gave a half shrug. "I guess."

  "I like how you stick up for Jake. He's lucky to have you, and I'm sorry that I didn't give him the benefit of the doubt."

  Trey's posture relaxed. "Yeah?"

  I nodded. "Totally."

  He was grinning now. "Well, okay then, because you're gonna love what I've got to show you."

  Chapter 48

  I leaned forward. "Oh my God. That's her."

  We were clustered around a computer screen, watching hotel security footage from earlier in the month. Along with Jake and Trey, I studied the moving images of Jake and Candy inside the elevator.

  Both of them were staring straight ahead, not talking, not interacting – seemingly strangers.

  As I watched, Candy gave Jake a sideways glance. A moment later, her purse slipped from her hands and tumbled onto the elevator floor. She stood utterly still, as if momentarily confused.

  Glancing downward, Jake bent down to retrieve the fallen purse. When he handed it back to her, she slung it over her shoulder and placed a hand on his elbow while she smiled up at him. For the briefest instant, Jake returned the smile, looking more polite than actually interested.

  A split-second later, he broke eye contact, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. As I watched, he studied the screen, seemingly oblivious to the girl standing next to him.

  "Stop," I said.

  Trey hit a button, and the image froze.

  "Now back it up a few frames," I said.

  Trey did as I asked and stopped when I indicated.

  I pointed. "That's it. The picture that Rupert showed me."

  "Who's Rupert?" Trey asked.

  "My boss," I said. "At the hotel."

  Jake and Trey exchanged a look.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Show her," Jake said.

  I looked over at him. "Show me what?"

  "Hang on," Trey said. "I've got it saved off in a separate file." He worked the computer keyboard, and a moment later, a new image appeared on the screen. It was a shot of Vince Hammond in the hotel lobby, slipping some cash to who else, but my old boss.

  "That jerk," I said.

  "Which one?" Trey asked.

  "Both of them," I said. "Definitely."

  Trey was nodding now. "Yeah, I thought you'd like that."

  Technically, I didn't like it, but that wasn't the point was it? I stared at Trey. "How'd you get this?"

  "I have my ways," Trey said.

  Somehow, I didn't doubt it. This was, after all, the guy who had hacked into my email account. Unprompted, another video image flashed across my brain – the one of the battered cheerleader in the cheap hotel room.

  "Hey," I said, "I've gotta ask you guys something."

  "What?" Jake said.

  How to put this? "I saw some footage of a cheerleader…" I began.

  "That was for Vince," Jake said, "not you."

  I gave him a confused look. "So you know what I'm talking about? The cheerleader?"

  His jaw tightened. "You weren't supposed to see that."

  "Why not?" I asked.

  "Because it's ugly." He reached over and pulled me close to his side. "And you shouldn't have to see stuff like that."

  "And besides," Trey said, "she wasn't really a cheerleader."

  That was so not the point. Still, I couldn't help but ask, "So then who was she?"

  "A call girl," Trey said. "You didn't know that?"

  "No," I said. "Why would I know that?"

  "Because," he said, "you don't see a lot cheerleaders dressed that way off the field. I mean, you don't see football players running around in uniform, do you?"

  "Forget that," I said. "What happened? Is she okay?"

  Jake's arms tightened around me. "She's okay."

  "But how'd you end up there?" I asked.

  "We had a tip," Jake said, "showed up, caught him in act."

  I swallowed. "Of what?"

  Trey spoke up. "Beating the crap out of her. You saw that, right?"

  "I saw enough." I pushed away from Jake as a horrible thought occurred to me. "So you filmed it?"

  "Well yeah," Trey said. "How else are we gonna stop it? Besides, Jake totally kicked his ass. You should've seen him. In the end, Doc was screaming like a girl."

  "So afterwards," I said, "you sent the video to Vince? As what? Some sort of message?"

  "Something like that," Jake said.

  I turned to give Jake a good, long look. "Tell me something. How'd you end up doing what you do?"

  "I already told you," he said. "I'm good at two things – fighting and pissing people off. Seemed a natural fit."

  "Oh stop it," I said. "There's more to this story, isn't there?" As I studied his face, pieces started to click and I worked them out aloud. "What you do is find guys who treat people like crap—"

  "Not just people," Trey said. "Girls mostly. Kids too. Remember the Chainsaw? Whacked that kid in the face with a football? He totally had an ass-kicking coming."

  I glanced at Jake. He didn't deny it. But he didn't look eager to discuss it either. I might have found this strange, except it was vintage Jake. There was always a lot more to him th
an anyone ever saw.

  "So now what?" I asked.

  Jake grinned over at me. "Now, we hit back."

  Trey didn't look nearly so confident. "Too bad Bianca's not in on it," he said. "We'd be golden then."

  "Why?" I asked.

  "Because she's sneaky," Trey said. "That's why."

  Well, there was that. It also reminded me of something. It was Friday. I turned to Jake. "Aren't you meeting her for lunch today?"

  He shook his head. "No. Why?"

  "Because," I said, "earlier this week, she told me she had a lunch meeting with you on Friday."

  Jake's eyebrows furrowed. "Were those her exact words? With Bianca, that's important."

  He was right. I had to remember who I was dealing with. "Well," I said, "she told me their initials were J.B., so I just assumed…"

  Jake finished the sentence for me. "Exactly what she wanted you to assume."

  "Yeah, I get that," I said. "But she told me flat-out that his last name was Bishop."

  Next to me, Jake froze.

  "What's wrong?" I asked.

  "It's Joel," he said.

  I stared up at him. "Your brother? But why would Bianca be meeting with him?"

  "Not just Bianca," Jake said. "Vince. That weasel's gonna try to sign him."

  Chapter 49

  Jake and I arrived at the restaurant just after noon. We found Vince and Bianca in a private dining area, sitting with a guy I barely recognized as Joel, Jake's youngest brother.

  The last time I'd seen him, he'd been how old? Sixteen? That would make him, what, twenty-one now? If it weren't for the family resemblance, I might have doubted it was the same person.

  He had the same dark hair and dark eyes that I recalled, but sometime in the last five years, he'd grown up. Correction – he'd grown up and then some, acquiring the same muscular build as his brothers, along with an edge I wouldn't have expected from a kid who I always remembered as surprisingly nice, especially for a Bishop.

  Now, as he looked at his older brother, all I saw was attitude of the worst kind. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

  Across from him, Vince leaned back in his chair as he studied us with obvious annoyance. "That's a good question." His gaze shifted to me. "I suppose I have you to thank for this?"

  I snuck a quick glance at Bianca, sitting beside him. Technically, she could claim credit for this visit, even if she'd never admit it.

  Jake strode forward to tower over the table. "This meeting's over."

  Joel shot to his feet. "You're not the boss of me."

  "I'm not talking to you," Jake said. He turned to give Vince a hard look. "I'm talking to him."

  Vince gave Jake a stiff smile. "Except, you're not the boss of me either."

  Jake turned to Joel. "If you're seeking representation, get it somewhere else. This guy? He's an asshole."

  "So what?" Joel said. "I'm not looking for a mommy. I'm looking for an agent."

  From what Jake had told me on the way over, Joel had been making a name for himself on the underground fighting circuit and was looking to go legit.

  In a way, it made sense that he'd consider signing with Vince's agency. From my own short tenure there, I knew just how much money could be made going that route. But Vince was so not the best choice.

  I spoke up. "If it's about the money, you can get that somewhere else."

  Joel turned to me. "Yeah? Well, maybe I don't want to go somewhere else."

  "Smart guy," Vince said, "because we're the best."

  I whirled toward him. "No, you're not. You're the worst. And by the way, the next time you send a girl to Jake's hotel room? Well, don't, because I'm on to your tricks now."

  Vince didn't even flinch. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  "Sure you don't," I said, turning back to Joel. "Seriously Joel, this guy reps the worst kind of people, and the things he does? It's bad. Seriously bad."

  Joel gave me a good, long look. "So don't associate with 'bad' people." He gave a laugh. "Is that what you're saying?"

  I squared my shoulders. "Yeah. It is."

  With a scoffing sound, Joel made a show of looking at his older brother. "Then maybe you should take your own advice."

  "You don't know what you're talking about," I said.

  I gave Jake a sideways glance. If the taunt bothered him, he didn't show it. In fact, he was smiling now. It was cold smile that almost gave me a shiver. He stepped toward Vince and said, "So you wanna rep him, huh? Why?"

  "Just look at the kid," Vince said, "he's got star written all over him. And I'm not talking just fights. I'm talking about endorsement deals, maybe some acting, modeling. The kid's got the looks, the body. With the right agent, he's golden."

  The words sounded way too rehearsed, and it was pretty obvious that the audience for that little speech wasn't Jake so much as his younger brother. I looked over at Joel, expecting him to look flattered.

  He didn't.

  "I'm not a fuckin' model," he said.

  "Eh, give it time," Vince said. "For the right amount of money? Trust me. You'll see it differently." He gave a half shrug. "I'm just saying, we'll keep our options open."

  Bianca leaned forward to give Jake a pleading look. "Look," she said, "I know you guys have had your differences, but on this? Vince is right. We can do great things for your brother."

  I looked down at her. "We?"

  "Well, yes," she said. "I mean not just Vince, but the whole team." She turned to Joel. "It's a top-notch firm. The best."

  I snorted. "You mean the best for covering up sexual assaults."

  "It wasn't like that," Vince said. "The girl was willing. And she was paid plenty."

  Incredulous, I stared down at him. "To get beat up?"

  "Hey, stuff happens," Vince said. "So get off your high horse or ride it somewhere else."

  Jake leaned over the table, pressing his palms flat against the surface. In a very low voice, he told Vince, "Yeah. Stuff happens. Sometimes, it happens to girls. And sometimes, it happens to pricks in thousand-dollar suits."

  Vince stood. "Is that a threat?"

  Jake pushed himself up. He was grinning again. "I don't know. Is it?"

  "Hey," Vince said, "you've been making my life hell for months. If anything, I should be threatening you."

  Jake spread his arms. "Go ahead."

  "Go ahead and what?" Vince asked.

  "Threaten me. Hit me. Whatever." Jake made a forwarding motion with his fingers. "Come on, Vince. Take your best shot. I'm waiting."

  Suddenly, a crash sounded as the table was upended, sending dishes and glasses smashing to the floor. We all looked to see Joel standing there, white-faced and unmoving, his hands still poised in the upward motion that had sent the table tumbling.

  "You guys want a fight?" he said. "Bring it on. Right here."

  Before anyone could respond, a waiter rounded the corner and stopped short. Taking in the mess, he stammered out, "Um, is everything okay in here?"

  Vince turned to glare at him. "If we want you, we'll call you. Until then, get the hell out." His voice rose. "I paid good money for this room, and I'd like some fucking privacy."

  After the briefest of hesitations, the waiter backed slowly away, shutting the previously open door firmly behind him. I looked over at Vince. His pants were covered in some sort of curly pasta and globs of red sauce. It was oozing down his tailored slacks like some sort of alien life form.

  I couldn’t help it. I snickered.

  Slowly, he turned toward me. "You see something funny here?"

  "Actually," I said, "yeah. You look totally stupid."

  As he stared at me, his shallow breathing seemed to fill the whole space. I glanced toward Jake. He was eyeing his brother with something that looked like admiration. Oh my God, like that temper tantrum, or whatever it was, was something to be proud of.

  Bishops – I'd never figure them out.

  Brushing the pasta off his pants, Vince turned to Bianca and said,
"You. Fix this."

  Her eyes widened. "Me?" She glanced down toward the destruction. "You mean the plates, or—"

  "Screw the plates," Vince said through clenched teeth. "You get him out of here. Now."

  Bianca's gaze shifted to Jake. "I don't suppose you'd consider leaving?"

  Before he could answer, someone else turned to walk away. It was Joel, who called over his shoulder, "I need a ride. You guys coming or what?"

  Chapter 50

  From somewhere in the back seat, Joel said, "A fuckin' model. Can you believe that shit?"

  I turned around to look at him. "I dunno. You might look cute in a sundress."

  He gazed at me with hooded eyes, looking anything but amused.

  Next to him, Bianca turned sideways to give him a long, speculative look. "The money's no joke," she told him. "Swimsuits, underwear. I could see it."

  Joel turned to look at her. He said nothing, but his expression said it all. He'd rather gnaw off his own ass than model underwear.

  She drew back. "Hey, I'm just saying, you could make some serious cash."

  I turned to glance over at Jake, sitting in the driver's seat. With his rugged face and finely cut body, he'd look good in just about anything. "How about you?" I teased. "Do you want to model underwear?"

  He gave me a sideways glance. "For you? Any time."

  From the backseat, I heard Bianca mutter something that sounded an awful lot like. "Where's a barf bag when I need it?"

  I turned around to face her. "Did you say something?"

  "No." She sank down in her seat. "And thanks, by the way, for getting me fired."

  In truth, Vince had fired all of us – me, Bianca, Jake, and even Joel – even though none of us were technically his employees. Even as far as Bianca was concerned, Vince was her client, not her boss. Still, in the aftermath of that doomed lunch, none of that seemed to matter.

  On his way out, Vince had fired a table of four, a random busboy, and the same waiter who'd popped in to check on us. But based on the tip that Jake handed the guy on the way out, he looked like he'd be happy to serve us all over again, with or without the collateral damage.

  "Cheer up," I told Bianca. "Tomorrow's Saturday."

  "So?" she said.

  "So, just think," I told her, "we were supposed to be baby-sitting that client. Now, we don't have to. See? Things aren't all bad."