Charlie was about to shake him off when a sickeningly familiar sucking swallowed her body.
With a pop, they materialized in her bedroom.
She shoved him away as soon as she could support her own weight. “You can’t walk five feet?”
“I didn’t want to have to drag you.” A predator looked back at her, alert and watchful, as though taking note of every step as she paced her way across the carpet. “You’ve got it all wrong, Charlie.”
“Oh, yeah? So you haven’t been buying me presents, giving me flowers, and in general hanging around me like a wasp at a picnic because of your damn job?”
He shifted. “You make it sound worse than it is.”
“Oh. My. God.” She whirled and began to pace again. Every prickly layer he’d unwrapped slapped back on. “You’re unbelievable.” Hurt blossomed like a bruise. She was such an idiot. “Was this all a joke to you? A punch line to share with your Genie friends about the Plain Jane who you had thinking you were attracted to?”
“Charlie.” He reached for her.
She held out a warning finger. “Don’t touch me.”
“You’re overreacting.” He shoved his hands through his hair, rumpling the perfect style. “It’s my job to grant wishes. It’s not like that’s such a bad thing.”
“Says you.”
“Hell,” he swore, blue eyes heating. His mouth twisted. “Don’t start with that again. It makes you sound like a nut.”
“A nut?” Charlie grabbed a throw pillow from her bed. She heaved it at him. “Because I don’t worship the ground you Genies walk on?”
He ducked. “Jesus, Charlie, it’s not like we’re serial killers. Don’t you trust me?”
“Trust the great seducer?” She scoffed. Every armored layer she’d reassembled screamed attack. “Man, you’ve sure got your role down.”
Jax stabbed a finger at her. “I. Did not. Seduce you.”
“You tried though, huh? When the direct approach didn’t work, you quickly rethought the angle. Sneak attack—I can’t believe I fell for it for even a second.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining about the presents or the trip to Paris.”
“Because I thought they might be genuine. That you liked me. I hoped maybe you were more than your reputation and your cheesy lines.” Her mouth drew inward like ties pulling a change purse tight. “I was obviously mistaken.”
He let out a breath. “All right, let’s calm down before we say something we regret.”
“Just answer one question.” Charlie raised her chin in preparation for a blow. “Are you still determined to get me to wish?”
Jax blinked. His brow creased. “Damn it, Charlie, it’s my job.”
Charlie’s jaw clenched. “Get out.”
“You’re overreacting. Just listen to me.”
“No.” Charlie whipped her head in a negative. “No. I am done listening.”
“But it’s just a wish.”
“Oh, my God, Jax, why do you have to push? What the hell is in it for you? Do you not get a gold star? Do you miss out on employee of the month?” Charlie stared at him. “Or is it all about pride? Has your dick never recovered from my public scorn?”
A muscle beat in Jax’s jaw. “Charlie . . .”
“That’s it, isn’t it? I fired the first shot and since then, it’s been war—only I didn’t know it. What were you planning to do? Make me fall for you and wish, then broadcast my defeat across the nation? Were you going to sleep with me and then tell all in a magazine? Because why else would you spend so much time with one person?”
“Well, it sure isn’t for your warm personality,” he bit out.
She laughed without humor. “That’s it, let the real Jax out.”
“Christ, Charlie, this is the real Jax. I haven’t been fucking pretending,” he exploded. “You talk like you’re a victim. Oh, the big, bad Genie’s deceived me and tried to seduce me into his evil web—well, screw that. I’m trying to get you to see the lucky break you’ve got and you’re being nothing but an ungrateful idiot.”
“So you agree with Ian.”
“Ian’s an asshole.” Jax strode forward, temper steaming. “You talk about me pushing—well, why can’t you give for once? What the hell is so wrong about granting people wishes? You act like you’re morally superior when really you’re a child clinging to stubborn theories that make you look foolish.”
Charlie vibrated with fury. She pointed to the door. “Get out.”
“Gladly.” Jax flashed out without another word.
Charlie let free a short scream, kicking the post of her bed. “Arrogant, selfish, mean jerk.”
Thought she was a child, did he? Thought she had her head up her ass? Thought he could insult her, seduce her, make her feel desired, desire him, without any consequences?
Charlie strode to her bedroom extension and snatched the phone from its cradle. Crimson ran in front of her eyes as she dialed information. “I want the number for Lisette’s Hour.”
She waited a moment, and then said, “This is Charlie Donahue. I want to talk to Cola May.”
* * *
“So we’ve all been following the story with great interest. You know the one I’m talking about. The ordinary girl versus the gorgeous Genie in a battle of wills—she doesn’t want her wish, he doesn’t want to lose. Charlotte Donahue gives her side on this very couch after the break. Don’t go away.”
Charlie listened to the studio audience’s frenzied applause over the TV set in her appointed dressing room. Her guts tied themselves into fancy bows. She pressed a sweaty hand against her belly, curling and uncurling her toes in her sturdy black boots. Why had this seemed like such a good idea last night?
Last night she’d been driving on temper and pride. She’d wanted to hurt Jax, kick him where it really hurt, like he’d done to her.
Cola hadn’t needed any convincing. Charlie had been surprised she’d fit her in so quickly, but apparently everybody in New York was following her and Jax’s battle of wills with a close gaze. She hadn’t even been aware of it.
Of course, as last night proved, a butt-scratching, peanut-crunching asshat was more observant than she was.
Cola bustled through the open door dressed in a suit of pastel pink. She beamed. “You look gorgeous.”
Charlie fiddled with the black blazer she wore. “Your makeup artist’s a real shark.”
“Merrilyn’s a genius, isn’t she? If only I could bundle her into my pocket, I’d be set.” Cola wiggled her shoulders and released a cloud of sweet perfume. She checked the clipboard she carried. “You’re on in ten, after the taped section of the elementary school that was wished back to life. You need a glass of wine or anything?”
“No. Thanks.” If she had wine, it’d go straight to her head, and she was already weaving from nerves.
“Okay, then, sweetie, I’ve got to get on, but if you need anything, just talk to Paulie outside here—the bulky one in black.” Cola hurried out of the room before Charlie could speak.
Charlie faced the mirror again. The room was small, not that size mattered, but it put a shine on the creeping panic that was shrinking her lung capacity. She’d never had a problem with public speaking, but it looked as though she was due for a fit of hysteria any moment.
She leaned back in the chair. It was a curved leather seat with wooden legs that creaked as she moved. Across the floor lay a fluffy white rug that covered the old pine floorboards, and the room was painted a stark white to match. Framed photos of previous guests of the show hung on the wall, all signed.
Charlie’s eyes latched on to the one of Rachel McAdams. “Get it together,” she uttered, shaken.
He deserved this. He’d practically begged for it.
Her stomach rolled and pitched as she closed her eyes.
The door shut behind her. “Charlie.”
At the sound of that Swiss chocolate voice, Charlie’s body shivered.
She opened her eyes and twisted in the chair to gla
re at him. Remember Sun Tzu. “What do you want?”
His eyes burned into her. His jaw was unshaven, his shirt untucked. And yet he still managed to look as edible as his voice.
“What do I want?” he echoed, bracing against the door. “Lots of things. I want a beer later. I want to get voted People’s magazine’s sexiest man of the year for a sixth year. I want Josh’s sisters to stop calling me on my cell.”
Charlie curled her fingers into the material of her pants. “If you came to make jokes, you’ll have to hurry,” she forced out. “I’m on in ten.”
The fire in his eyes dialed up a notch. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why?” Charlie pushed from the chair. “You’re asking me why when you threw down the gauntlet?”
“What gauntlet? What’re you talking about?”
“You called me a child.”
“And this is the best way to prove you’re not?” He barked a laugh.
“Don’t twist it. You lied to me. I’m only fighting back, protecting myself.”
“Against what—me? Charlie, I’d never hurt you.”
“Too late.”
That made him pause, his eyes searching her face. She noticed his hands were clenched.
“What do you mean ‘too late’?” His voice was careful.
“It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that I’m going on in eight minutes. So, if you don’t mind, I want to be alone.”
“Why. Are you. Doing this?”
Charlie ground her teeth together. “You don’t approve of my tactics, Jax? Too out in the open for you?”
“You’re turning us into a spectacle.” Jax shoved away from the door. “The press are already all over this. You’re throwing gasoline on a fire.”
She smirked. “Worried about your image?”
“Screw my image—it’s you I’m worried about.”
“Yeah, right.”
“What do you think is going to happen after you go on the show, Charlie? You think the press is going to swarm me for comment? I’m already answering questions daily about the woman who refuses to wish. When you start talking about how I’ve wronged you, we’ll be in the eye of a shitstorm. They’ll hound you.”
“They don’t really care about me.” She waved that off. “Nobody really cares about the ordinary girl. They’ll leave me alone after I’ve given this interview.”
“You’re a fool if you believe that.”
She pursed her lips.
“You’ll be the woman who said no to Jax Michaels. Every newspaper, every magazine, every TV journalist is going to want to follow the story. They’re going to be sneaking into your building, pestering you at the store, snapping photos of you, me, everyone you know.” His mouth turned down. “And you’re going to look utterly foolish spouting your beliefs about Genies. Face it—no matter how right you think you are, the majority of this country thinks otherwise. You could get hurt.”
“You’re talking nonsense,” she scoffed. The doubt she already nursed grew.
“There are already people, fans of mine, who’re furious you’re throwing a wish away,” he pressed on. “If you flaunt that ingratitude in their faces, who knows what could happen.”
“Nothing will happen.” Her voice was as weak as her reasons for doing this.
Jax stepped forward, commanding her attention. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Charlie.” His voice turned soft, intimate. His eyes glittered.
She tried to laugh. “You’re not fooling me. You just don’t want to be embarrassed on national TV.”
“That’s true.” He nodded. “I’d really prefer not to have to defend myself from taunts and jibes about my dick and my ability to do my job. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you?”
He looked at her. “You really need to ask?”
“Jax . . .”
“Is it to make me mad? Because that’s dumb. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.” He paused. The clock on the wall counted out the seconds. Then, “I’m sorry.”
She blinked. The air pounded from her lungs as she gripped on to the chair.
“I want you to know I didn’t lie to you. I meant everything I said—about helping you with the store, I mean. I meant every look, every touch.” His eyes heated. His voice lowered. “There wasn’t a moment we spent together that I didn’t enjoy.”
“Ah, that’s . . .” She couldn’t think of a word to say. Literally, the only thing she could think was hG&S%&S*.
He stepped even closer and touched her chin with two fingers. A spark shocked her, thrumming through her blood like a tribal beat.
“You’re better than this, Charlie.” That insane blue locked on to her like a sniper.
Charlie looked on, helpless to move, as he pressed his lips to her cheek. Apples battered her with their scent, and she breathed it in, knees on the verge of collapse.
“Whatever you decide,” Jax said, stepping back, “I’ll be around.” He hesitated. “I care about the ordinary girl.”
He disappeared.
Charlie slowly turned to the mirror, slumping into her chair. Her head whirled like she’d been on a fast-and-furious ride at an amusement park, her belly was flip-flopping like crazy, and her mouth tasted of sand.
She touched the burning imprint of Jax’s lips on her skin.
I meant every look, every touch.
I’m sorry.
Her breath leaked out.
I care about the ordinary girl.
“Damn the man,” she breathed.
With a sigh, she pushed from the chair and hurried to the door. Pulling it open, she heard the music that signaled the end of a commercial break drift down the hall. To her left, the bulky man in a black tee Cola had mentioned fiddled with a microphone.
“Paulie?”
“Yeah, that’s me. You need something?” His eyes were very green and interested as he glanced at the woman who could say no to Jax Michaels.
Only in my dreams.
The echoes of that thought had her lips pressing together. “Tell Cola I had to run, okay?”
He frowned. “Hey, aren’t you on next?”
“Pass the message on, yeah?” Charlie twisted and started to jog down the corridor.
“What am I supposed to tell Cola?” Paulie shouted behind her.
“That I’m a sucker for big blue eyes.” Cursing herself for a fool, Charlie slipped out of the door and into the night.
* * *
The streets were fairly deserted as she wandered home from the subway, eating fries from a fast food joint in lieu of a proper dinner. Everyone was probably watching Lisette’s Hour and wondering where the hell Charlie Donahue was.
Charlie’d like to know that herself. Ever since Jax had entered her life, she’d been off-center, weaving around in the dark. And all because Kate had thought she should be rewarded for being a good friend.
Funny how the universe bites you on the ass.
She shoved another fry into her mouth. The wind was nipping, sneaking in through her thick coat. She tugged it more firmly around her.
The truth was she wished she could wish. It would make things eminently simpler. Jax could get his gold star, WFY would once again have an unblemished record, and Charlie would be blissfully unaware she was just one more sheep in the flock.
But after what had happened to her mom, there was no way she could dismiss her whole belief system. Her mom’s disaster had shaped Charlie as a person—it was why she’d wanted to own her own business, why she’d worked at night and taken business classes during the day every day for years. It was why she had no friends other than Kate, because workaholics and thrifty savers couldn’t afford the time to invest in friendships.
It was why she believed above all else that you got what you put into life. Making a wish seemed too easy. There had to be a catch. Always. She didn’t care if Kate thought she was eccentric, if Ian thought she was an ass, if Jax thought she was nuts. Nothing was ever trul
y free.
A noise startled her out of her thoughts, and she glanced back. A man walked about twenty paces behind, slouching in his hoodie, a ball cap pulled low over his forehead.
A tingle of apprehension skittered across her skin as she again faced forward. Her fry packet crumpled in her hand and dropped to the ground as she quickened her pace. Her steps echoed off the pavement.
The moon was out but streaked by gray clouds, creating a gloomy shadow-shrouded atmosphere. Her breaths rasped in the night air, white puffs that faded into nothing.
She tried to tell herself not to be foolish. Yes, this was New York, and her apartment wasn’t in the safest part of town, but she didn’t look rich or pretty. She wouldn’t be worth mugging. Or raping. Or killing.
Not helping.
She wound her fist around her handbag’s strap as she put on more speed. The clapping of her boot’s soles on pavement thudded like a sarcastic round of applause.
The other set of footsteps kept pace.
Charlie swallowed. She slipped her phone out of her bag as she moved, her eyes flicking between the screen and the street as she searched for the name she’d entered a few days ago. As her phone tried to connect, she rounded the corner of her street.
Pain struck as her hair was yanked from behind.
A shriek tumbled from her lips as the phone went skidding from her grip and across the sidewalk. Panicked, she jabbed out, her screams turning muffled as a hand that stank of pickled eggs slapped across her mouth.
“Shut her up,” someone yelled.
Stars shot in front of her eyes, black and gold, as a meaty fist cuffed her head.
She was shoved against the wall, turned, locked there by a pair of arms. Brown eyes glittered at her, small and mean in a face twisted by a sneer.
“Hello, Charlotte Donahue,” he said. A man holding a beer bottle by its neck to the leader’s right snickered.
“Who’re you, whaddya want?” she slurred, inching back into the brick.
“You and me, we’re going to have a talk,” Baseball Cap said, poking her in the stomach.
Her head was fuzzy with flies. She couldn’t concentrate. “What?”
“You think you’re so great you can turn your nose up at a wish?” He jabbed her again. “Think you’re above it all? When there’re people in need?”
Her Wish--A Playboy Genie Romance Page 12