No. Apparently, he wasn't. As I watched, Jake freed himself from the girl's embrace. Flashing another grin at the camera, he got to his feet and extended a hand to help her up.
But the girl didn't take it. Instead, she lunged forward and grabbed sloppily at his knees. Clutching at his pants, she started to claw her way up, stopping only when her face reached crotch level.
I felt the color drain from my face. What the hell was she doing?
Her lips were dangerously close to his groin. No. Scratch that. They were right there, on his groin. I felt my teeth clench, and my fists grow tight. Either that chick was using Jake's crotch as a napkin, or she'd forgotten that it wasn't quite possible to give a guy oral through his pants.
And what about Jake? Why wasn't he stopping her?
But the way it looked, he wasn't even watching her. Sometime in the last couple of seconds, he'd turned his head away from the camera, as if eyeballing something in the distance. But what?
And why, for God's sake, wasn't he doing something about the girl? Like for starters, detaching her face from his crotch.
A split-second later, I had my answer. From the direction Jake had been looking, Ronnie North barreled into camera-range. He plowed into Jake, sending the girl tumbling off to the side.
The camera gave a little jump, and it was easy to see why. The girl's boobs had exploded out of the dress in a jiggly mass of bouncing pandemonium. Most of the nakedness was digitally blurred, but no amount of editing could hide the truth. A mostly topless girl was flopping around within arm's reach of my guy.
The only good news – if you could call it that – was that Jake was focused on Ronnie, who suddenly struck out with a right hook. Jake turned, and the fist glanced off his jaw and kept on going, sending Ronnie stumbling forward until he tripped over the semi-topless girl and fell face-first onto the tile floor.
And that was it. He didn't move.
I squinted at the screen. Was I seeing things right? Dorian and Ronnie had been defeated not by Jake, but by the tile floor and their own drunken clumsiness?
Well, that was a first.
The camera zoomed in on Ronnie's face. His eyes were open, but vaguely unfocused. He blinked a couple of times before lifting his head to look around. When his gaze met the camera, his eyes widened. He lifted his head higher and slurred out, "Hey, asshole! No pictures!"
And then, his eyes slammed shut, just before his face hit the floor. The camera lingered on him for a long moment and then panned back to Jake.
Watching, I heard myself gasp. He was striding toward the exit with Nipple Girl in his arms. She was cradled tight against his chest, smiling as he carried her away from all the commotion.
And then, they were gone.
I heard myself say, "You've got to be kidding me."
The way I saw it, Jake had some explaining to do. Some major explaining.
Chapter 9
Trey was grinning. "Five million."
He looked absolutely thrilled. I wasn't. Still, trying to be civil, I made myself ask, "Five million what?"
"Views," he said. "On the video we shot last night."
My jaw felt almost too tight to speak. "Shot, huh?"
That word – not to mention related words, like stabbed, mangled, or throttled – well, those were dangerous concepts, considering my mood.
Screw the niceties. My mood wouldn’t get any better by making small-talk with Mister Film-a-Nipple. "Where's Jake?" I asked.
Almost immediately after watching that video, I'd left my brothers in the job-trailer and high-tailed it straight back to Jake's penthouse. Unfortunately, he hadn't been there, so here I was, one floor down, looking for him at his office.
I glanced around, but saw no sign of him, or of anyone else, other than Trey. And it wasn't like there were a lot of places to hide.
Jake's office was different than the standard business setup. Instead of rows of cubicles and desks, it was mostly windows and wide open spaces, with marble floors and upscale furniture arranged in stylish clusters.
At the far end of the space was a small graphics studio, a few work stations, and then, Jake's personal office, surrounded by glass walls that hid almost nothing. I could see why he'd gone that route. Normal walls would've blocked his personal view of the urban cityscape, including the Detroit River, which looked surprisingly nice from this vantage point.
Unfortunately, I was in no mood to appreciate it.
In front of me, Trey gave a dramatic groan. "Aw, c'mon, don’t you think that's a lot?"
I was too distracted to think. "A lot of what?"
"Views. I mean, I knew when I shot it that we had something special, but…" He chuckled. "Man, that whole scene was a major goldmine, you know?" He leaned forward, and his eyes brightened. "Did you see the nipple?"
Oh, yeah.
I'd seen the nipple, alright. Multiple times. And I'd seen the girl it belonged to. I bit my lip. Worse, I'd seen Jake carry her away to who-knows-where.
Now, I was having a hard time ignoring the fact that last night, Jake had been missing for a couple of hours, right after carrying her away. It also hadn't escaped my attention that for some unknown reason, he'd changed his pants before returning home.
And when I'd mentioned it last night, what had Jake done? He'd distracted me with sexiness. Was I that easy?
Who was I kidding?
Of course, I was, well, when it came to Jake, anyway.
A couple of feet away, Trey was still talking. "Bummer I had to blur it out, but I still think people got the idea, right?"
My stomach clenched. "Oh, they got it, alright."
Trey hesitated. "You feeling okay?" He leaned closer to study my face. "You look kind of like you're gonna throw up."
I did feel like throwing up, mostly because of that video. I paused. Of course, that slice of pizza hadn't helped.
Yes, I had eaten the stupid thing, but mostly because I'd been so distracted that I'd munched it down without hardly noticing, well, not until Steve, laughing his ass off, had lunged for the bet money, telling Anthony. "Told you she'd eat it."
As for Anthony, he'd been less than thrilled, acting like I'd done it on purpose, just to deprive him of ten lousy dollars, no less.
But it wasn't my fault. It was the video. It had turned my brain to mush.
Trying to forget all that, I looked to Trey and said, "I'm fine."
He gave my face a closer look. "So, are you mad or something then?"
Of course I was mad. What normal girl wouldn't be? But I didn't feel like explaining it, not to him anyway, so all I said was, "I just need to see Jake, that's all."
"Why?" He glanced down at my work uniform, which, come to think of it, he hadn't seen before. "Are you going to a costume party or something?"
Yeah. As Sally the Slutty Cowgirl.
But out loud, I said, "No. It's my work uniform." At his blank look, I added, "You know, from the steakhouse."
Trey gave a slow, approving nod. "I like it." He grinned. "So, uh, does everyone dress like that?"
"Yeah. Unfortunately." I hesitated. "Well, not the guys. Or the cooks." I waved away the distraction. "But back to Jake, do you know where he is?"
"Shopping, I think."
"Shopping? For what?"
I couldn’t help but recall something. On my first official date with Jake, he'd taken me shopping.
At the memory, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He'd been wildly extravagant and such a great sport. Also, he'd been far too generous, no matter how hard I'd protested.
At the time, I'd already been more than a little in love with him. But even if that weren't the case, what girl would be able to resist a guy like that? He had it all – looks, money, fame – and he was generous to a fault.
But for me, his appeal had nothing to do with the fame or money. Even when he'd been poor, I'd been totally crazy about him.
I let that word roll around in my head. Crazy.
I was feeling a little crazy right now, bu
t not in a good way. I pulled out my cell phone and hit the speed-dial. For the tenth time in the last half-hour, the call went straight to Jake's voicemail.
Well, this was just great. I didn't bother leaving a message, because I didn't know what to say, or how to say it without sounding like a paranoid harpy.
Trey's voice cut into my thoughts. "Did you hear what I just said?"
I looked up. "Uh, sorry. What?"
"I said, I think he's shopping for a car."
I gave a little shake of my head. "A car? Really?" Jake had a bunch of cars already. I knew, because they took up a huge section of the basement parking garage. Why he needed another was anyone's guess.
Still, I felt some of the tension in my shoulders ease. A car – that sounded harmless enough.
What was wrong with me, anyway?
I'd never been the jealous type, but with Jake, it was sometimes hard not to be. I blew out a long, unsteady breath. It was especially hard when he carried off strange women and came home wearing different pants.
I thanked Trey for the info and turned away, heading back toward the elevator. Under my breath, I muttered, "I'm sure I'll find him eventually."
But as it turned out, eventually was a lot sooner than I anticipated, because when the elevator doors slid open, there he was, Jake, looking like he'd just gotten lucky ten times over.
Chapter 10
Behind me, I heard Trey call out, "Hey Jake! We're up to five million." He paused. "Wait. Scratch that. Six million. Man, this thing's on fire." He laughed. "It must've been the nipple."
I whirled around. "Will you just stop already?"
Trey, who'd been heading toward us, stopped in mid-stride. Sometime in the last minute, he'd pulled out his cell phone, probably to check his video stats. He shoved the phone back into his pocket and said, "Stop what?"
Through gritted teeth, I said, "Stop talking about that stupid nipple." I threw up my hands. "We've all got 'em. What's the big deal?"
Trey's eyebrows furrowed. "Uh, is that a for-real question?"
Was it? I didn't know. What I did know was that I was like five seconds away from making a total fool of myself. I couldn’t let that happen, because, let's face it, I'd done that plenty already, especially where Jake was concerned.
It was a habit I was trying to break, like checking my daily horoscope, which by the way, had told me that I was going to have a really crappy day today. Surprise, surprise. So far, that darn thing had been right.
I was still facing Trey. Behind me, I felt strong arms wrap themselves around my torso. Jake's arms. Those wonderful, tattooed arms of splendor. The arms that not too long ago, had held me all night long and cradled me tight against his naked chest.
I heard his voice, soft in my ear. "Baby, what's wrong?"
I didn't know what to say. I was confused and angry, but pathetically unsure if any of that anger was justified. And his embrace felt good. So good. So perfect. So exactly what I needed.
Suddenly, I couldn’t help it. I turned around and sagged against him. When his arms closed tighter, I heard myself sigh. "I think I was fired today."
He chuckled. "Again?"
I pulled back to look up at him. "It's not funny."
Behind me, I heard Trey say, "Actually, it is. Kind of a bummer though, because I've got this bet with your brothers."
I turned around. "What?"
"Yeah." Trey moved closer, and was now standing within arm's reach. "If you'd kept that job like two weeks longer, I'd have won forty bucks."
I stared at him. What on Earth was he talking about? A bet? With my brothers? And what the hell? Were they betting for me? Or against me?
Trey once again pulled out his cell phone. He swiped a finger across its screen. When he found what he was looking for, he frowned. "Aw man, that sucks."
I gave a confused shake of my head. "What sucks?"
Trey was still frowning. "Jake's got tomorrow. Damn, what are the odds?"
I froze. What did that mean? My own boyfriend was betting that I'd get fired? Tomorrow? Well, that was nice.
Trey, looking past me, told Jake, "Guess you win."
I was vaguely aware that Jake's arms were still around me, holding me from behind. But suddenly, his arms didn't feel comforting. They felt like a giant, mocking prison. Was everyone laughing at me?
I yanked myself out of his embrace and turned around to face him. "What does he mean?" I asked. "You bet on me to fail?"
On top of everything else, it felt like just another kick to the teeth. I was one of four kids. All my life, I'd been the carefree one, the fun one, the one who didn't worry about tomorrow, because good times today were far more important.
But that kind of attitude had been a total disaster, especially on the job front. So, for the last few months, I'd been trying like crazy to turn over a new leaf.
Unfortunately, my timing stunk, because this happened to fall around the same time that Jake had roared back into my life.
His life was crazy, so my life was crazy. And then, there were my brothers, crazy times two. And Trey? Well, he wasn't quite crazy, but he wasn't exactly grounded either.
All of a sudden, I was feeling like the only sane person around. The sensation was oddly foreign and in truth, kind of scary.
In front of me, Jake remained silent. So I asked the question again, quieter this time. "Did you? Bet against me, I mean?"
But it was Trey who answered. "He sure did. Picked almost the exact date too." He chuckled. "Talk about lucky."
I said nothing. My gaze was still on Jake. Coming out of the elevator, he'd looked obnoxiously happy. Now, he was frowning, looking almost pissed off. At who? Me?
I squared my shoulders. If that was the case, so what? He could get mad all he wanted. I still deserved an answer.
So I waited.
When no answer came, I felt my shoulders sag. "You did, didn't you? You seriously bet on me to get fired."
His voice was quiet. "It wasn't like that."
"Oh yeah?" I said. "Then why'd you do it? Is that what you wanted? Or did you just think I was too incompetent to keep a job more than two weeks?"
Jake's gaze shifted past me, looking toward Trey. "Trey," Jake said. "You wanna head out?"
"Nah, that's okay," Trey said. "I'm good."
Jake's jaw tightened. "You sure about that?"
After a long, awkward moment, Trey cleared his throat. "Oh. Um, yeah, I've gotta check on that thing. So, uh, see you in about an hour?"
Feeling suddenly guilty for driving the poor guy off, I made myself say, "No, that's alright." I turned around and told Trey, "Don't go on my account. Jake and I can talk upstairs." I turned back to Jake and said, "Right?"
But Jake was shaking his head. He looked to Trey and said, "Let's call it a day. See you tomorrow, alright?"
I watched, confused, as Trey, with obvious reluctance, gathered his stuff and trudged toward the elevator. I couldn’t help but stare. In my whole life, I'd never seen anyone so disappointed to leave work. The guy seriously needed a social life.
After the elevator carried him away, I turned to Jake and asked, "Why didn't you want to talk upstairs?"
He gave a casual shrug. "I didn't think we needed to."
Like everything else, this made no sense. Why would he choose to kick out his assistant instead of hopping on that same elevator and going up just one floor? Or hell, we could've taken the stairs. It was only one flight, after all.
I shook off the distraction. What did it matter now? Trey was gone. Jake was here. And I had some things I desperately wanted to know.
But now that we were actually alone, getting those answers seemed a tricky proposition.
I was still pondering where to begin when I heard myself blurt out, "I saw that video."
Chapter 11
Breathlessly, I waited, wondering what Jake would say. Around us, the office felt too big and too quiet. In the cool silence, my statement echoed off the high ceiling in a way that made me feel just a little b
it foolish.
It sounded almost like an accusation, although what I was accusing him of, I still wasn't sure.
In front of me, Jake's expression was carefully neutral. "Yeah? What'd you think?"
Where to start? I thought that girl had gotten way too friendly. I thought she should've been wearing a lot more clothes. I thought there was no reason on Earth for Jake to be carrying her anywhere, especially toward an exit, where who-knows-what might happen out of camera-range.
And besides, she had two perfectly fine legs of her own. And they were fine. Damn it. I knew, because I'd seen them – a lot of them, considering her skimpy clothes.
Looking at Jake now, I searched for a decent answer to his question. What did I think? "Well, uh, it was pretty exciting." I searched his face for clues. "What'd you think?"
His voice was flat. "Five million views. That's what I think."
For some reason, the cold, numerical assessment surprised me. I heard myself mumble, "Actually I think it was six million."
"Even better."
I searched his face, wondering what I was missing. Jake loved what he did. Didn't he?
I recalled the Jake I'd known back in our hometown. That guy had been dirt-poor and a notorious hell-raiser. He was still a hell-raiser, except that now he was a million times more notorious, and he got paid buckets of money for letting the world witness the action.
But what kind of action was it, exactly?
Thinking of his latest video, a flood of unwanted images slammed into my brain – that stupid nipple, those lips on his crotch, Jake grinning for the camera, him carrying her away – I gave a hard blink – and returning home hours later, in different pants.
I gazed up at him, waiting for him to offer a better explanation. Today, he was dressed in casual clothes – jeans and a basic T-shirt. But as far as the man himself, there was nothing basic about him. His hair was thick, his jaw was square, and his muscles were so defined, they could've made a Greek god weep with envy.
I felt myself swallow. He was pure perfection. And he was all mine, supposedly.
But now, I didn’t know what to do. The conversation wasn't going exactly how I'd imagined it. I made a sound of frustration. "Why didn't you tell me?"
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