The Thing About Love

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The Thing About Love Page 9

by Kim Karr

The front door opened and a voice boomed, “Rory, are you ready?”

  “Remy, I’ll be right there,” she called, and kissed her brother and hugged me. “I trust the two of you to make my day magical. I have to go.” And then she was off, leaving Jake and I staring at the door she trotted out of.

  He handed back the photo, and when he did, something flickered in his gaze. I held my breath as we stared into each other’s eyes.

  I couldn’t stop my eyes from dropping to that mouth that he just loved to pout. Afraid he was going to catch sight of my desire, I averted my gaze, only to find he was looking at my lips.

  They parted under his stare.

  Quickly, his gaze returned to mine, and then he reached in his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

  I didn’t want to look inside. What if he had a condom in there, and I saw it? Yet my curiosity got the best of me, and I snuck a peek. Nothing. I saw no condom outline. Phew. That would have been embarrassing.

  All business-like, he handed me a card. “Call me when you have something to discuss, and we can meet then.”

  I held a hand up. “Wait. It doesn’t work that way. We need to discuss the budget, so I can secure a venue and pick a date.”

  He set his card on the mantel. “There isn’t a budget. Whatever it costs is what it costs, and the rest is up to you.”

  “Everyone has a budget,” I protested.

  “There is no budget,” he insisted through gritted teeth. “Make this wedding everything my sister wants and more.” He pointed to the card. “And like I said, call me when you have something to discuss.”

  I picked up the card and stared at it. Like Jaxson’s it was simple. But instead of the picture of a camera, it bore the caduceus with its two snakes and wings used to symbolize medicine, and read:

  Dr. Jake Kissinger

  Grady Memorial Hospital Emergency Medicine Department

  404–616–1000 (main)

  404–121–4321 (cell)

  When I looked up, he was gone. I heard his voice in the foyer and all of a sudden the fact that I had to work closely with him became very real.

  Him.

  The jackass.

  Him.

  The guy with the big dick.

  Him.

  The hot doctor with the kissable lips.

  Dr. Kiss.

  I meant Dr. Kissinger, of course.

  At the Drop of a Hat

  JULES

  THERE WAS A GENUINE POSSIBILITY my ear was going to fall off.

  And that was no joke.

  For the past three days, Finn and I had done nothing but make phone call after phone call. The only place in the entire state of Georgia we were booking a wedding of this size on such short notice was the Moose Club, and that too was no joke.

  Yet still, the pompous Dr. Jake Kissinger couldn’t even manage to meet me on time to discuss the alternative.

  I glanced at my watch. He was late. Albeit only three minutes late, but nonetheless, he was late. Maybe he wasn’t coming. I wouldn’t doubt it. He hadn’t exactly been welcoming when I tried to correspond with him. In fact, he had been downright rude.

  Looking down at my phone, I pulled up my text correspondence with him, and reread it to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood our date. Well, not our date, but our scheduled appointment.

  Me: Having trouble securing a location for the date you gave me. Any chance I can move it a little later into the month of September?

  Him: No. Rory and Remy have a long weekend, and I’ve already taken the time off. Make it work.

  Me: Is there any chance you can meet me tomorrow to discuss?

  Him: Do you have a plan to present?

  Me: Not exactly.

  Him: Then no, I can’t.

  Me: I do have something to talk about though. Fifteen minutes is all I need. Please.

  Him: Fine. Make it later in the afternoon. Where do you want to meet? The bakery?

  Me: No. How about Octane at three?

  Him: Fine.

  Fine. Fine. Fine.

  I really despised that word.

  Okay, so there were no alternative dates. Labor Day weekend it was. Rory and Remy would have time off from school to get married. And, there was more to it, I knew, and I got it. However, like I said, there were no suitable locations available.

  The only thing I could think to do was see if he could exert his influence to sway the manager of the Cherokee Town & Country Club to allow us to use the grounds. And that was why I was meeting with him, and the only reason. Because really I would have rather been pulling my eyelashes out one by one than sitting here.

  All the ballrooms at the country club were booked, and the manager wouldn’t even entertain the idea of using the grounds. Yet, it was an option. Of course doing so meant if it rained we were screwed. Still, there was no other alternative other than the Moose Club.

  It was all I had.

  And I needed the sexy jackass’s help to get it done.

  God help me.

  Closing the text, I went back to pretending I was making progress by searching for the perfect invitation. While I was at it, I ordered myself to stop watching the door of the coffee shop. And then while I was at that, I pretended I was doing a great job of not watching it.

  Sadly, pretending was all I could do.

  I totally was.

  Forcing myself, I flicked my gaze away. The colorful booths and stools were crowded with college students. The lights were too bright and the voices too loud. It was way too over-stimulating in here to truly concentrate.

  In my college days, I’d hung out at this coffee shop all the time. It was strange how I’d forgotten how noisy the place could be. Forgotten how busy the place was. And not realized what a wrong choice it was for a meeting. I should have selected somewhere quieter. But I knew the brooding doctor would probably have to be to work by five, so I’d chosen Octane in Atlantic Station because it was halfway between Buckhead and Grady, and should have been convenient for him.

  I was just about to text him and ask if he’d like to reschedule when I got a text from Finn.

  Finn: Sunshine Farms had a cancellation.

  Me: Are you serious?

  Finn: Jules, get real. Why would I tell you that if I wasn’t?

  Me: Sorry. Can you send me pictures of the venue? I’m not familiar with it. Where is it anyway?

  Finn: I’m headed out. Pull it up on Google. It’s about an hour drive east. And they also told me they have a wedding tonight, so if you’d like a tour, you should be there before five.

  Me: Thanks.

  It was Friday, and he had been working twelve-hour days just like me, so I wasn’t about to fault him for wanting to leave at three.

  Searching for the venue on my phone, I couldn’t believe my luck. Now I just hoped it was suited for a wedding of this stature.

  With my anxiety level at an all-time high, I thumbed through the pictures. It looked decent. Not great. The hay barrels everywhere were an immediate turnoff, but I could have them removed and dress the shabby barn up. I’d have to go see it in person first before making a decision.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late. It took a while to find a place to park.”

  I looked up as Jake slid into the seat across from me. He was in his standard jeans and Adidas, but this time he was wearing an Atlanta Hawks golf shirt instead of a T-shirt. It appeared his hair was once again wet, but it was hidden under his Atlanta Hawks baseball hat, so I couldn’t be sure. I wanted to ask him if he lived in the shower, but obviously, I didn’t. “Hi. It’s fine.”

  Pulling off his cap, he ran a hand through his wet hair as he glanced around the shop. “I haven’t been in here before. Cool place.”

  I kept an easy smile on my face, my breezy manner intact even though my excitement about the potential venue had me wanting to jump up and down. “I used to come here all the time, and I figured it was close enough to the hospital that you wouldn’t be late for work.”

  His eyes flicked over me from my head t
o my chest. I had dressed to impress, and I thought I was doing just that. I had styled my hair straight and sleek in its bob-like shape. I wore a black and white printed silk tank top and black wide-leg pants with wedges. I was put together and professional, but not stuffy. His gaze came back to my face, and he heaved a heavy sigh of irritation. “I’m not working tonight. So tell me, what am I doing here?”

  God, he really was an ass. “How about a coffee first?”

  He looked around for the waitress, and then muttered, “Oh, shit.”

  “Jake, this is a surprise. I’ve never seen you here.” The voice was sickeningly sweet.

  The woman who came into view was not the waitress, but rather a very beautiful woman wearing Grady Memorial Hospital’s signature black scrubs.

  Jake went to his feet. “Hey Carly, yeah, this is my first time.”

  The nurse looked at me. “Hi,” she said, and I could tell right away she was accessing me.

  “Carly, this is Jules Easton, she’s helping me plan my sister’s wedding.”

  “Oh,” she said and in her tinkly laughter, “that’s why you’re here. It makes sense now.”

  As if he couldn’t just be meeting me for coffee?

  She batted her lashes and smiled at him, and it was a smile that left no question of her intentions. “Well, I should be getting to work. I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” she directed to Jake.

  Jake looked very uncomfortable, and I could tell they either had something going on or were about to embark on that something. “Yeah, see you around.”

  I wasn’t a jealous person, but a surge of venom coursed through my veins. “Bye Carly, it was nice to meet you.”

  She gave me a little wave, and I looked over at Jake, who was frowning. “Girlfriend?” I asked.

  “No,” he said quickly. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  Oh, that was good to know. “I was only asking for wedding planning purposes.”

  Liar.

  He stared at me. Did he see right through me? I was fairly confident he did. “So,” he said, tapping his fingers on the table, “tell me what I’m doing here.”

  I squirmed a little under the intensity of his stare. “Well, I asked you here because . . .” I looked down at the table. “Because . . .” I looked back up to find him now glaring at me with a raised brow.

  What the ever-loving hell?

  Why was I so nervous and tongue-twisted around him?

  I cleared my throat. “Because I found a venue for the wedding,” I finally said cheerily, although I felt a flush coat my cheeks at the mistruth.

  It wasn’t really why I asked him here, but still, it was true.

  “Then I suggest you do whatever it is you do,” he shot back.

  Not a that’s great, or fantastic, or even a high-five.

  I pushed down my irritation, reminding myself that in this most unusual case of the unavailable client, he was the closest thing I had to one. And, since I had recently figured out my focus hadn’t been entirely on the client as it should be, I had to play nice.

  Although this client was all kinds of irritating, perhaps he didn’t understand and needed to be schooled. “That’s just it, Jake, I don’t act alone. I don’t make major decisions on my own. I need input from you about your sister’s wedding.”

  His glare turned almost hostile.

  I swallowed. Okay, perhaps I took it a bit too far, and he never did tell me to call him by his first name. I’d start with that. “Dr. Kissinger, I mean.”

  “Jake is fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Okay, Jake,” I said firmly, “what I do is work with the clients to make their dream day come true, and in this case, whether you like it or not, you are my client by proxy.”

  His response to that was to sigh and relax against the booth. He crossed his arms over his chest and hit me with, “So, let me get this straight. You want to make my dreams come true?”

  “Well, yes and no.”

  That brought the most condescending smirk I’d ever seen to his hot lips. “You might change your mind after I tell you what they are.” His tone was sly, hot, and flirtatious.

  Dirty, dirty, doctor.

  I wasn’t insulted by his comment or agitated like I probably should have been, but rather my insides felt all warm and fuzzy.

  Wait!

  I had to get real here.

  I had a job to do.

  There was no time for crushes. Just as there was no time for resentment. He was acting difficult on purpose. That was clear.

  “Look, Jake.” I held up my hands in surrender. “What I did was unprofessional and—”

  “And what?” he asked coyly.

  “And I apologize,” I hurried to finish.

  “Hi.”

  We both jerked our heads toward the end of the booth. Enough of the interruptions already. This time at least it was the waitress and not another want-to-be-girlfriend.

  Jake mustered up a smile for the girl who had finally come to take his order. Damn, I should have asked him what his dreams were while we were in the moment. Then again, watching the way he lit up for this woman, maybe I didn’t want to know.

  “I’m Sara. Sorry about the wait. It’s crazy in here today.”

  “It’s fine,” Jake said.

  Sara smiled at him. “What can I get you?”

  He peered up at the menu board. “I’ll have an extra tall latte macchiato with an extra shot. No, make that two extra shots.”

  Sara smiled wider. “That’s a lot of extras. You must really want to stay awake.”

  The debonair charm he exuded in her presence agitated me because it was the same charm he’d shown me—before I’d smashed cake in his face. And the same charm he’d shown Carly, I reminded myself. “Just waking up, actually. I worked all night.”

  “Oh, then I’ll be sure to make it extra strong,” she said with a wink.

  Jake smiled in return, and I swear she started to blush right there.

  Seconds later she looked at me. “Another Vanilla Latte for you?”

  “Actually, no,” I smiled, but mine was more than fake, “I’ll have what he’s having.”

  She scribbled the number two down. “Were you up late working, too?” she asked.

  “No, but I’m going to be up late tonight.”

  “Ah,” she remarked, like Jake and I were going to be going at it like bunnies all night long. The thought had me blushing.

  “I have to . . . never mind.” I decided it was best to discuss the farm with Jake before just blurting the location out to the waitress.

  She winked at me. “Gotcha. Two high-octanes coming up,” she said, and then walked away.

  “Okay.” I propped my chin on my fist. “Get whatever it is you need to off your chest.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. “You sure you can handle that?”

  I ignored his sarcasm and answered directly. “Yes. I’m more than sure.”

  The surrounding air thickened with my challenge. “Fine. Here it goes. I only agreed to work with you because I needed someone who was available now. Every other wedding planner is booked out for months.”

  I threw my shoulders back in deference to his comment. “I don’t really care why you agreed to hire me, or what you think of me for that matter. The only thing that matters is that your sister has entrusted me to engineer her perfect day, and contrary to what you might think, I am more than capable of doing that.”

  His already narrowed eyes shone with a spark of challenge as he said with threatening calmness, “That has yet to be seen.”

  I closed my eyes.

  Bleeding heart my ass.

  He wasn’t patient, nor was he kind. What he was, however, was the prince of darkness. An arrogant ass I wanted nothing to do with. And what made matters worse was somehow he had figured out what my weaknesses were, and he was purposely exploiting them.

  I could do this job.

  I could do this job.

  I could do this job.

&
nbsp; So what if his opinion of me wasn’t positive. I didn’t care. I knew my capabilities, and I knew I could do this job.

  I could do this job.

  I could do this job.

  I could do this job.

  That damn self-help book and its silent chanting. That technique did not work, and I was proof positive of it.

  I opened my eyes and stared at him stonily. “With that out of the way, now are you ready to move on to why I asked to meet with you?”

  “Not quite. There’s one more thing.” His gaze went to the counter. “Sara.”

  She turned back from the counter. “I’ll have a piece of that chocolate cake as well.”

  Surprise flared in my eyes. “You wouldn’t dare?”

  Jake slipped on that intimidating mask of his. “Wouldn’t I?”

  I gulped, suddenly wondering why I thought it was a good idea to poke the tiger. “Jake,” I warned. “I don’t have time to go home and get cleaned up. I have to drive out to Monroe after I leave here to meet—”

  “Two high-octanes and one piece of chocolate cake.” Sara set the oversized cups on the table, along with a fairly healthy serving of cake. “Enjoy!”

  As soon as she was gone, Jake glared at me. “Don’t stop now,” Jake insisted. “To meet with who, your boyfriend for a date? Your lover for a rendezvous?”

  Enough was enough. I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and then placed both of my hands on the table to lean forward. “For your information, I do not have a boyfriend, and I have never had a lover who I’ve had to rendezvous with. What I am going to do with my Friday night is drive over an hour to the only place I can find that is available for your sister’s wedding besides the Moose Club or the grounds at your country club, which is what I wanted to talk to you about. And just so we’re both on the same page, you can smash that cake in my face, you can make me feel incapable, you can avoid talking to me, you can even act like a condescending, pompous ass, but I’m not quitting.”

  Jake’s demeanor seemed to change almost instantly from anger to amusement. “A condescending, pompous ass? Wow. That’s pretty harsh.”

  I shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

  He forked a piece of cake and then leaned back to nibble on it as he studied me, and just like that his mirth was gone too, leaving nothing but seriousness in its wake. “Look, Juliette—”

 

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