Game Changer

by Beth Orsoff

  He graced me with his lady-killer smile. “You make it sound so tawdry.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Little did you know I would’ve slept with you even without the daiquiri.” Oh, yeah, the alcohol was definitely having an effect. Slutty Samantha returns.

  Jake peered at me over the top of his sunglasses. “The day’s not over yet.”

  “Yes, but we’re now in a G-rated environment.”

  He nodded toward the house. “Just until our friends leave. Then we’re all alone again.”

  “You don’t know that. There could be real estate agents in and out of here all day, tomorrow too.”

  He dropped his chin to his chest and sighed. “You’re killing me, Haller.”

  “Don’t blame me. I’m not the one who put the house up for sale.” And I was supremely disappointed that the Solomons had. Now that I knew how nice this place was, I wanted to come back.

  Chapter 76

  Jake

  Was he going to have to take this woman to Siberia to sleep with her? They were finally getting somewhere, a place he was very much enjoying, and slam, interrupted again. When Michael had told him he was welcome to stay at his parents’ beach house this weekend, he’d never mentioned that it was up for sale. He probably didn’t know.

  Jake wanted to believe that they wouldn’t be interrupted again, but Samantha was right. It was likely more potential buyers would want to view the house before the weekend was over. Well, it wasn’t too late to book them into a hotel. He pulled out his phone and started searching.

  “Work?” she asked.

  “Play. How do you feel about Santa Monica?” There weren’t any resorts in Malibu, but there were several five-star hotels farther down the coast. “Or do you prefer Orange County?” The traffic might not be too bad in the middle of the afternoon.

  “For what?” she asked.

  “A change of venue. Someplace we won’t be interrupted.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “I’m not sure such a place exists. If we go to a hotel, then room service will be delivering someone else’s food to our door, or the plumber will stop by to fix another guest’s leaky toilet, or the hotel will have a fire drill in the middle of the night.”

  He laughed too. “I see you’ve given this some thought.”

  “That’s what we lawyers do. We try to anticipate the potential negative outcomes and find a work-around.”

  He shut his phone. “Okay, Madam Lawyer, what do you suggest?”

  “My place?”

  “I think we tried that already. Twice. You really want to risk a third strike?”

  “Now who’s being negative? Maybe you’ll hit a home run.”

  Apparently the sunscreen massage hadn’t been a waste of time after all. Or maybe it was the daiquiri. “Want to give me the odds on that?”

  She slurped up the last of her drink. “Nothing’s guaranteed, of course, but I’d say the odds are in your favor.”

  Chapter 77

  Samantha

  It’s not that I didn’t love fancy hotels—who didn’t?—but checking into a room now did seem tawdry, as if sex was a foregone conclusion. Not that I wasn’t planning on sleeping with Jake—I definitely was. But that’s not all I wanted and I hoped he felt the same. Otherwise Whitney’s dire prediction would come true—Jake would break my heart—and it would be my own damn fault for getting involved with someone like him in the first place.

  Since the weather was so perfect, we decided to lounge by the pool for the rest of the afternoon, then figure it out. At least that was the plan until the second broker arrived before the Westons had even left the property. That’s when we revised the plan and opted for a bike ride instead.

  Jake mentioned that he’d spotted a farmers’ market when he’d run to the grocery store that morning, so we headed in that direction. The sellers were packing up when we arrived, but one of them mentioned an art fair farther down the coast, so we biked there instead. We locked our cruisers to a tree and wandered the aisles of paintings, sculptures, and handmade jewelry.

  “Hungry?” Jake asked as we passed a gourmet food truck. They seemed to be everywhere in LA these days.

  “Thirsty.” The bottle of now-warm water that I’d stuck in my backpack before we left the house was less than appealing.

  We both were tempted by the fresh-squeezed lemonade. “You look for a place to sit,” he said. “I’ll get the drinks.”

  I wandered around until I managed to snag a table from a couple who was just leaving, and Jake joined me a few minutes later with two lemonades, a slice of fudge cake, and some sort of fruit tart.

  “I know you said you weren’t hungry, but I thought these looked good.”

  A man who loved dessert. Another point in his favor.

  After we’d consumed both pastries, we resumed our tour of the art fair. And when Jake reached for my hand, I gave it to him. We spent the rest of the afternoon strolling the aisles hand in hand, neither of us letting go until I stopped at a stall selling wood carvings. Most of the wares on display were bowls and platters of different shapes and sizes, but it was the jewelry boxes that had caught my attention. They weren’t the typical oblong encasements you see for sale at the mall but small heart-shaped designs with secret compartments. They reminded me of one my mother used to have. My sister and I had searched for it after she died, but it had disappeared. We always wondered if Marco had stolen it along with all of her paintings.

  When I lifted the lid on a reddish-hued box, the proprietor sauntered over. “That one’s a hundred percent solid mahogany,” he said, “hand carved by my father.”

  “Your father?” I guessed the salesman was in his sixties.

  “Yup. He’s eighty-nine and still going strong. He likes to tell people he spent forty years on Wall Street, but now he does something productive with his time. Look here,” he continued and opened a secret compartment in the back that I’d thought was just part of the design. “Perfect for a ring.”

  I pulled my hands away as if he’d set the box on fire. I’d just thought it was a unique jewelry box, maybe something I’d use to hold a favorite pair of earrings or a watch. I hadn’t realized it was meant for a ring. “We’re not married.”

  “Of course not, you’re much too happy.” He laughed at his own joke, then turned to Jake. “You look like a smart guy. Too smart to let this one get away, I think.”

  I could feel my face heat up, but Jake appeared unfazed as he smiled back at the man and asked, “How much?”

  “A hundred and fifty, but for you two, I’ll knock it down to one twenty-five.”

  I was about to thank the salesman and walk away when Jake said, “Sold.”

  “Jake!”

  He ignored me and pulled out his wallet. “I assume you take credit cards.”

  “Naturally,” the salesman said and held up the box. “Would you like it wrapped?” They both turned to me.

  “Jake, you don’t need to do this.” I liked the jewelry box, but I didn’t need it. And I wasn’t even sure I wanted it now that I knew it was meant for a ring. What I was sure of was that Jake shouldn’t be buying it for me. Jewelry boxes were gifts men purchased for their wives or girlfriends. I wasn’t even sure Jake and I were dating. But they both continued staring at me, so I finally said, “I can buy it myself.”

  “No, you can’t,” Jake said. “It’s one of a kind. Isn’t that right?”

  “Absolutely,” the salesman replied. “Each one is unique.”

  Jake pushed his credit card across the counter, then turned back to me. “Sorry, this one’s sold. Better luck next time.”

  The salesman wrapped the box in tissue paper, then placed it in a small brown shopping bag, which he handed to me along with a business card. “Check out our website. We have a bridal registry too.”

  Could I be more mortified?

  Chapter 78

  Jake

  He was almost glad they’d been interrupted this afternoon. If they hadn’t been, they nev
er would’ve ended up biking to an art fair. And the look on her face when he’d bought her that jewelry box was priceless.

  And she was so appreciative! It was as if no one had ever bought her a gift before. He’d given diamond earrings to women who hadn’t been that elated. Although he’d been sleeping with those women. And they’d probably been expecting a ring.

  “What now?” he asked when they’d run out of stalls to wander through.

  “I guess we bike back to the house. Unless you’re too tired and want to call a cab.”

  The house wasn’t far, but the ride was all uphill. “What do you want to do?”

  She considered it, then said, “I could probably use the exercise.”

  Damnit. Now he had no choice.

  He was happy to see that she was sweating too, since he could barely breathe. He didn’t remember the hill being quite this steep on the way down.

  They were only halfway up when she jumped off her bike. “Maybe we should walk the rest of the way, at least until we get to the flat part again.”

  “Sure,” he said, climbing off his bike just as quickly, “whatever you want.”

  She offered him warm water from the bottle in her backpack, and after they’d both had their fill, they resumed their climb. They were walking in silence, the only sounds their breathing, which was less labored now than it had been when they were still pedaling, the birds squawking, and the occasional roar of a car engine as it buzzed by, when she suddenly said, “About the jewelry box—”

  “Samantha, truly, it was my pleasure.” She’d already thanked him several times.

  “And thank you again,” she said, “but I just wanted to say that I know it doesn’t mean anything.”

  Uh oh. Since when did buying a jewelry box mean something? Was this the new mantra in all the women’s magazines? If your boyfriend bought you a jewelry box, it was a sign he was about to propose? He was almost afraid to ask, but he did anyway. “What would it mean, if it did mean something?”

  “Nothing. It’s just a jewelry box.”

  But her cheeks had turned red again, just like they had when he’d bought it for her. Damnit. He assumed Rita had already told her about him, but maybe she hadn’t told her everything. And she’d said she wanted honesty. “Samantha, you know I’m not the marrying kind, right?”

  She choked but pretended it was a cough. “Yes, of course. Who said anything about marriage? I mean, I guess that salesman did, but he was just trying to sell us a jewelry box, right? It’s not like he meant any of it. And for the record, I’m not the marrying kind either.”

  For the first minute, he optimistically thought that’d be the end of it. He quickly realized how wrong he was. She refused to look at him for the rest of the ride back to the house. That’s what he got for being honest. Whoever said honesty was the best policy must never have known a woman.

  Chapter 79

  Samantha

  Could I be a bigger idiot? I didn’t think so. Why, oh why did I have to make that stupid crack about the jewelry box meaning something? He hadn’t been thinking it meant something, at least not until I’d brought it up. And now he thought that I thought it meant something, or at least that I wanted it to mean something, even though I didn’t. I decided to keep my mouth shut for the rest of the bike ride lest I say something stupid again. Then as soon as we reached the house, I ran upstairs to shower and pack my things. Maybe if I played it cool for the next few hours, he’d forget the whole conversation.

  We drove to an Italian restaurant for dinner. Jake ordered a bottle of Chianti before I’d even cracked open my menu, which definitely helped ease the tension. We were sharing a tartufo for dessert (his idea, which I wholeheartedly endorsed despite it being my third sweet of the day, fourth if you counted the pancakes for breakfast), when he said, “Maybe we should just go back to the beach house. There won’t be any brokers showing it at night.”

  I agreed, but neither of us knew what time they might show up in the morning, and I wouldn’t be able to relax knowing someone might walk in on us at any moment. Plus I always slept better in my own bed. “Give me a second,” I said and ran to the ladies’ room. I didn’t need to pee, but I did need to talk to Whitney.

  I texted: How did it go today?

  She answered almost immediately: Fine, no thanks to you.

  She was not going to make me feel guilty. I’d helped her move plenty of times. Then the phone pinged again: And how is your weekend going? Worth abandoning your sister for?

  I laughed. I could always count on Whitney to make it all about her, even when she was asking about me. Great. I just wanted to make sure the move went okay. And that if I took Jake back to my place, we’d be alone.

  Much easier without furniture. We’re having a party tonight to celebrate.

  Already?

  I’m inviting the neighbors so nobody calls the police.

  I didn’t want to know more. I typed, Have fun, then shut my phone. No matter what sort of trouble she got herself into, I was not letting her ruin this night.

  “Everything okay?” Jake asked when I returned to the table.

  I smiled at him. “Yes, my house is empty. Let’s go there instead.”

  Chapter 80

  Jake

  He thought she’d be more relaxed in her own house, but she seemed just as nervous as she’d been the night before at the Solomons’. Maybe he should’ve left his overnight bag in the trunk. When they’d arrived at her place, he’d carried both of their suitcases inside. He’d thought it was assumed that he’d be spending the night, this time in her bed. Hadn’t she implied that much this afternoon? Although that was before the jewelry box incident. Now he was sorry he’d bought it for her. If he’d known all the trouble it would cause, he would’ve gotten her a salad bowl instead.

  “Would you like something to drink?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he replied, following her into the kitchen. “Should I open a bottle of wine?”

  “Just water for me,” she answered. “But feel free to have wine if you like. I think there’s still some in the fridge.”

  He didn’t need any more wine. He wanted her to have more so she’d relax. Now he was sorry he hadn’t ordered that second bottle of Chianti at the restaurant. “No, water’s fine for me too.”

  She poured two glasses and handed him one. He thought she’d suggest they move to the living room, but she drank hers standing at the kitchen counter, so he did too. The tension was excruciating. She wouldn’t even look at him. He was debating whether he should offer to leave when she said, “Let’s go upstairs.”

  Another one-eighty. He didn’t know what to think anymore. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

  “Isn’t that what you want?”

  Not this again. “Samantha, you know what I want. The question is whether you want it too. I thought you did, but now I’m not so sure. And if you don’t, that’s cool. I’ll leave.” But if he left this time, it would be the end. He’d done this dance with her longer than with anyone else, but he had his limits.

  Chapter 81

  Samantha

  Why was I hesitating? This is what I wanted. The whole reason I’d suggested we come back to my house instead of returning to the beach house was so we could be alone. I was dying to sleep with Jake. What the hell was wrong with me?

  He set his empty glass on the counter. “I think I should go.”

  “No!” I grabbed his hand and instantly felt the sparks between us. “Please stay.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.” I was far from sure, but I knew it was now or never, and never was not something I wanted to contemplate.

  When I reached for my overnight bag, he took it from me, but he left his own at the bottom of the steps. I admit that made me feel better. As if I could still say no if I wanted to. Which, of course, I could. It was my body, my house, my decision. But I wouldn’t, and we both knew it.

  I flipped on the light in my bedroom and was instantly sorry. I’d for
gotten the mess I’d left behind in my packing frenzy. I gathered up the discarded shirts, shoes, and lingerie and dumped them in a heap on the floor of my closet, then slammed the door shut.

  “Sorry about that,” I said, but when I turned around, I found him examining the dent in my bedroom wall.

  “What happened here?” he asked, fingering the spot where I’d chucked my vibrator.

  “You don’t want to know.” Or more precisely, I didn’t want to tell him.

  “Actually, I think I do. This shape sort of reminds me of—”

  I threw myself at him and kissed him. It was the only way to shut him up.

  Chapter 82

  Jake

  If her goal was to pull his focus from the phallic dent in her wall, then she’d definitely succeeded. He was much more interested in what was happening between them.

  He broke their connection long enough to pull her shirt over her head. But when she reached for her bra, he grabbed her hands. He loved undressing a woman, loved the anticipation it created on both sides. He slid one strap down, then the other, then he kissed each breast through the lacy fabric. Her nipples were already hard, and so was he.

  When he finally unclasped the bra, it slipped down between them, revealing two perfectly round breasts. He could’ve happily suckled all night, but there were other places to explore. Then she started unbuttoning his shirt, and he yanked it over his head.

  “I think you lost a button,” she said, staring off in the direction where they’d both heard it ping as it hit the hardwood floor.

  “Who cares?” At this moment all he wanted was to make love to her.

  Chapter 83

  Samantha

  I was still thinking about that button—who pulled a button-down shirt off over their head? That was what the buttons were for, to be undone—until he yanked off my pants and started kissing me through my underwear. I was so glad I’d listened to Jenna and worn the lacy ones. I could practically feel his tongue through the wispy fabric. And if he didn’t stop doing what he was doing, I was going to come! I finally had to push his head away.