by Cate Masters
Yet it also matched the props she’d purchased. With a chuckle, she reached up to set the hat atop his head, and looped the bullwhip around his shoulder. “You’re Jake Emerson.”
“I know.” Ignoring her huff of frustration, he straightened the hat. “Where’d you find these?”
“A little shop.” She wished now she hadn’t. Wearing those made Jake Emerson too real. “I better set up.”
“I’ve already done it.”
“No, I have to set up my area.” Certain items had to be placed just so, or it threw her off. Call it booksigning feng shui. Or call her anal.
“I think you’ll find everything the way you like it.”
Her arguments trailed away as she inspected the table. A display of the latest cover and reviews to her right with a sample book. To the left, neat stacks of each in the series. Bookmarks in the center. Three good pens and a bottle of water.
“Exactly how I set up,” she said in wonder.
In a matter-of-fact tone, he said, “Right. Where would you like me?”
A trick question? Most women probably didn’t hesitate to answer: in my bed. “I hadn’t planned for you.” The understatement of the year.
“How about to the side of the table? Out of your way?”
With a wan smile, she nodded. “Wherever you’d like.” A glance at her watch revealed she had a few minutes to freshen up. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t get lost. I need you.”
Her stomach lurched. How she longed to hear those words from a man. Not under these circumstances.
A crowd waited outside the double doors. Excitement gave way to disappointment when several asked, “Is Jake inside?”
Answering only, “Excuse me,” she hurried down the hall. By the time she returned, the mass seemed to have doubled, and she had difficulty breaking through. Luckily Elaine guarded the entrance and gave her time to get to the table. At a crack in the door, a stampede of women rushed through. Straight for Jake.
“What a nuthouse.” She might well have stayed home. Propping her chin in her palm, she twirled a pen through the fingers of her other hand.
Bobbing above the throng, Jake held up his hands. “One at a time. And only after you’ve purchased a book and had it signed by Ms. Feather.”
The mob stilled and turned in unison. Rushing to the table, all grabbed books.
Speechless, Jody could only watch the nightmarish scene.
The snap of a whip drew everyone’s attention. Jake grinned. “Form an orderly line, please.”
Astonishingly, they did. Every attendee bought a book and waited for Jody to sign it before standing in line for a photo with Jake. Jody ran out of books, and Elaine had to call two bookstores in town for fresh supplies. The signing lasted for hours. Rather than exhausting her, it exhilarated Jody.
“I’ve never sold so many books in one day. I owe it all to you.” She wouldn’t begrudge him the women’s fawning. His charm tempted her to do the same.
“No, love. They came for you.”
“Only because I created you.” His intense gaze made her turn away. “The best news is I don’t have to schlep the remains home.” A first. “Oh no, I forgot my camera.” Of all the day’s photos, she hadn’t posed for one with Jake.
A grin came as his only answer. “Shall we get this stuff packed up? You need to get ready for dinner.”
Repressing the urge to ask yet again who he really was, she agreed, instead reveling in the shared task. Sometimes fiction rivaled reality.
Chapter Four
Dinner proved a repeat of lunch. And breakfast. No one could get enough of Jake.
Jody might as well have stayed home and sent him in her stead. She wouldn’t kid herself. Today wouldn’t have been nearly the success without him. Sitting at the table, he regaled them with tales of adventure. Her tales.
Having Brad at the conference only worsened her mood. Like everyone else, he kept his gaze riveted to her table. Instead of Jake, Brad stared at her. A woman sat beside him, but not the woman he’d left Jody for. No matter. It only proved his unreliability.
Refusing dessert, she whisked up her handbag. “Be right back.” The ladies room would provide some solace.
Touching her wrist, Jake gazed up. “Don’t be long. I hear there’s dancing.”
“I’m sure you won’t be lonely.”
His hurt sounded genuine. “I’m always lonely without you.”
Her heart scudded to a stop. Why did he have to say such things? Rather than pleasing her, now it seemed cruel. Mocking, almost.
The chatter in the rest room centered around Jake. No escape, even here. Emerging from the stall, Jody washed her hands, and a gaggle surrounded her.
“How did you find such a perfect man?”
Retouching her lipstick, Jody said, “I made him up. He doesn’t exist.”
“He’s Jake in the flesh,” one said.
“I’d like to see him in the flesh,” another said, eliciting gasps and titters.
Jody had never been much for small talk. “See you on the dance floor.”
“Will we be able to dance with him?” one called after her.
“Sure.” Have at him. It would only reinforce her notion that no guy could maintain such a false front for long. He’d reveal himself to be a cad eventually.
The strains of a piano echoed down the hallway. Entering the banquet room, she listened to the man singing, but couldn’t see him because of the crowd. “Oh, you’re kidding.” Bodies shifted, showing Jake at the keyboard, crooning It Had to Be You.
Spying her, he flashed a smile.
She needed a drink. Threading her way through the tables, she slowed at the sight of Brad. When he held up an alcoholic offering, she continued her approach.
“You look like you could use this.”
Something a little stiffer would’ve worked better, but wine would suffice. Her patience had waned. “What do you want, Brad?”
He leaned closer. “I hoped we could catch up.”
“Hm, tempting. But do I really want to hear how amazing your new girlfriend is? I don’t think so.” She tilted the glass to her lips.
“She’s not—”
“Jody.” Jake glared at Brad.
When had the music stopped? “All done serenading your bevy of beauties?” Yes, the old Jody had returned.
“I only filled in time waiting for you.”
Brad winced. “How sweet. The guy almost convinced me with his flattering attention and sappy sincerity.”
Whirling to face her ex, Jody snapped, “You should try it sometime.” To Jake, she said, “You are worth every penny.”
A laugh burst from Brad. “So he’s an employee? Not here as a…friend?” He sounded hopeful.
What the hell, did he think she’d fall back in his arms for a weekend, then kiss his cheek when he left to go back to her?
Jake’s fingers inched around her waist. “Give me a chance to convince her.”
Maybe the wine had already kicked in, but it wouldn’t take much. The guy’s natural charm might be switched onto her for this gig, but damn, she could let herself forget he was fictional for a day or two, at the very least.
She almost felt a pinprick of guilt, leaving Brad alone holding two glasses of wine, and a pathetic expression. Almost, but not quite. Not when Jake’s embrace felt so fantastic, sweeping her across the floor.
In the center of the room, cleared for dancing, he twirled her against his chest. “You’re not still pining for that loser, are you?”
Heat flashed through her. “Who told you?” Oh, she’d have some harsh words for Mimi when she returned home. She’d gone too far.
“Babe, you’re much too awesome for him.”
Awesome? When had any guy applied that description to her? Never.
“I appreciate your concern, but let’s keep this on a professional level, shall we?” It killed her to say it, and certainly didn’t reflect her thoughts. Professional wouldn’t describe them at all.<
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His lopsided smile endeared him to her all the more.
“It’s not concern, love. And it’s never been on a professional level, so I hope we don’t start now. Dance?” Hands on her waist, he glided in perfect time to the sultry jazz piece played by the pianist.
The movement of his hips erased the question forming in her mind: if it’s not concern, then what?
“It’s a little soon—” She stopped herself from saying, in our relationship. “To be talking like that, don’t you think? We only met yesterday.” Saying it aloud reiterated the truth of it, though she felt like she’d known him all her life.
His deep-throated chuckle unnerved her, prompting her to say, “I’m sure Mimi instructed you to act familiar, but don’t get carried away.”
He threw his head back in a hearty laugh, one of genuine pleasure.
Talk about familiar. He had Jake down to a tee.
“You’re very good, I’ll give you that.” She’d love to know how good.
Casually, he said, “Thank you. But any compliment I share with you.”
“Why?”
“You made me what I am.”
Arguing would prove useless. Maybe the guy had fallen on hard times and needed this gig so badly he’d immersed himself completely in Jake’s world. Even she couldn’t have crafted his strong jaw line, so perfect it made her want to trace its length behind his ear and run her fingers through his hair.
As the song ended, he dipped her slowly back.
Her gaze met an upside down Brad’s.
“May I cut in?” Brad asked.
Glancing from him to her, Jake eased her upward. His hand never left her back.
Too late. She’d already cut Brad out of her life. “Actually, I need another drink.”
“Great idea.” Jake glared at Brad. “Let’s go.”
Splaying her hand against his chest, her thoughts scattered. “Why don’t you mingle a bit? I need to make a call.” Outside. Fresh air would do her good. Help clear her head to sort reality from fantasy. The latter was beginning to seem too much like the former.
A nerve pulsed in his jaw as he stared menacingly at Brad. “All right. If you need me, I’m right here.”
“Yes.” It would be hard to miss him, with cougars and kittens already readying to pounce the moment she strolled off. All through the lobby, she thought she heard Jake’s name mentioned.
After she whooshed through the revolving doors, the balmy evening air outside washed over her. Mimi still didn’t pick up her cell. The full moon loomed low over the parking lot, a benevolent presence balancing her frustration. Alone in a romantic setting. Not a novel experience for her. Melancholy settled over her as she stood face to face with the moon in a showdown. “I’m tired of being alone.”
Behind the glass walls of the hotel, people moved, smiling. Why stay out here? She grew tired of missing out on the party. Determined to have fun if it killed her, she hurried inside.
At the bar, leaning against the counter, stood Brad, looking for all the world like he’d been waiting just for her.
Yeah, right. As if he’d ever waited for her. Maybe waited for her to leave so he could jump into the arms of…what was her name? Oh, Lynette.
What kind of a name was Lynette anyway? She wasn’t developed enough to be a full-fledged Lynn? Inferior, she remained a Lynette for eternity.
Brad zeroed in. “Before your cardboard-cutout-come-to-life returns, I’d like to speak to you.”
“My what?”
“The guy. Your hero.”
A laugh bubbled up. Her hero. She had to admit, she’d like him to be. “I hardly think I should talk to you.”
“Why not?” He sounded genuinely hurt.
“Oh, please. You can crush a girl’s soul, but don’t come back to explain why it was for everyone’s good—especially yours.”
“I’m not here to explain.”
Now that was more like the Brad she knew. “What then, a job reference?” Oh, she’d love to—how wonderful Brad was, on paper. In reality, he stacked up far lower than the measurement of a single sheet of paper.
“No, Jody. I need to tell you…” His shoulders hunched, eyes glazed, wide like a five-year-old.
She knew that look. “Oh, no. Damn you,” she hissed. Leave it to Brad to home in on her at her most vulnerable.
In a choked voice, Brad said, “I made a mistake. I know that now.”
“Yes, you did. Two, in fact.”
“Two?” Confusion erased his innocence.
“Dumping me, and coming here.” Ruining the first wonderful weekend she’d had in too long.
The line stacked up behind them, either wanting drinks or a front-row view.
Turning, she asked the bartender, “Margarita please?”
Behind her, Brad whined, “Jody, I miss you.”
The bartender’s apologetic gaze flicked to Brad. “We don’t have margaritas, ma’am.”
Brad pleaded, “Give me a chance.”
Keeping her focus on the bartender, she asked, “What do you have?”
Brad offered, “I have a car outside, waiting.”
Right, like the Springsteen song. He’d actually sung it to her: that she was no beauty, but hey, it was all right.
Clenching her jaw, she squared her shoulders. “White wine.”
“Come on, sweet pea,” Brad moaned.
Slowly, she turned, straightening her spine. “If you ever call me sweet pea again, the bartender will serve your nuts as a snack.”
Women surrounding them whooped, clapping, forcing Brad to retreat. Shouts filled the air: “You go girl!”
“Tell him, sistah!” “Yeah Jody” “Now she’s a kickass heroine!”
Kickass? Maybe. Heroine? Hardly.
Still, it boosted her enough to manage a smile, one which came naturally at seeing Jake.
He stood front and center, cheering her on, fist pumping. “That’s my girl.”
Her smile fell to one side. His girl? After tipping the bartender, she mustered enough flair and dignity to bow and excuse herself. Her legs carried her to the nearest table before the tremble in her knees gave way. She plopped to the seat.
Jake’s knee brushed her leg as he sat beside her. “Too funny.”
An exaggerated laugh-half whimper burst out. “You think? I’m glad my sorry love life amuses you.”
“What are you talking about? You ruled.”
“What are you, twelve?” She definitely had to write Jake more mature, if this guy thought he embodied the soul of the character.
He rubbed her back. “Hey, you crushed the guy. And empowered all these women.”
“It didn’t feel empowering to me.” The cheers did bolster her, but if she could talk him into a full-body massage, she’d feel much better.
He leaned close. “Because you have too much heart.”
“Right.”
Two women approaching struggled against one another. “Jake, will you dance with me?” one asked, and the other countered, “No, me.”
“Sorry ladies. I’ve reserved tonight’s dances for someone special.”
Great. So he hooked up with someone else while she was outside trying to get hold of Mimi? Or went to the rest room? Leave it to Jake to move so fast. Damned if she would sit and watch their antics. “Have fun.” Standing, she gulped down her drink and gathered her handbag.
Staring up at her, he said, “I can’t if you leave.”
“You said you were dancing with someone special. Where is she?” Probably some babe barely out of school.
His voice soft, he said, “I’m looking at her.”
Her tension melted. She held back an incredulous giggle. “How much is Mimi paying you? Because whatever it is, it’s not nearly enough.”
Standing, he slid his hand into hers, kissed it, then guided her to the dance floor. “Don’t you know how amazing you are?”
In what way? “Oh sure, I amaze myself all the time.” Never more than now, letting his expert touch spin
her, slide her across the Pergo like she’d trained months for Dancing With the Stars.
But tonight, Jake was the star, not her. He made everything more exciting.
“Jake—or whoever you are…”
He silenced her protest by holding a finger to her parted lips. “Shh. Stop over thinking everything. Just let go. Set yourself free, Jody.”
“Here? Are you crazy?”
“Why not here? Do you expect your readers to find you an inspiration if you can’t inspire yourself? You never know your limits…”
Rolling her eyes, she finished the sentence. “Until you test them.” Great. Hurling her own words back to taunt her.
The slow song segued into a disco beat. Jake whooped, his shoulders and arms gyrating like train wheels. His mood proved infectious. All those dancing nearby followed suit.
“Oh what the hell.” She let loose, matching his every move and then some.
A glance at the sidelines revealed Brad still watching. Only he didn’t clap and cheer.
They ended with Jody’s knee draped over Jake’s wrist, one arm triumphantly raised, the other looped around his neck—where every other woman in the room wished she were.
Jody felt like she rode a helium bubble toward the door. It held as she floated near Brad, until he sneered, “You’re pathetic. Pretending a relationship with your own character. Makes sense though. You’re both fakes.”
The fantasy dissolved. Jody’s lip quivered. “Good night,” she called to Jake, her nostrils burning from holding back tears.
She ran to the elevator, cursing the carnival atmosphere. “Come on, come on.” She punched the button, barging inside the instant the doors open, holding the Close Door button.
Jake negotiated past clutching throngs of females, calling her name. The moment he broke free, the doors slid shut.
Safely in her room, Jody locked the door, listening to the noises in the hallway, sure she’d hear heavy footsteps, a soft knock and an even softer voice call her name.
After several minutes, she stepped back. “Fine. It only proves he’s no Jake Emerson. Just another fake, like Brad said.” Like Brad himself. Oh this was too confusing.
A nice long soak in the tub—that’s what she needed. Drawing the bath, she remembered she hadn’t eaten. In all the excitement, her appetite waned in favor of a different sort of hunger. The hunger to feel the caresses she described in such loving detail.