by Mia Caldwell
Sasha blew out a loud breath and dropped bonelessly into her chair. She spoke to Jada in a confidential tone, as if everyone in the entire room couldn’t hear her. “Agatha is upset because she doesn’t want it getting around that I’m a lesbian.”
Chapter Two
JADA DOWNED THE LAST OF her wine in one gulp. Elly nearly dropped the plate she was holding, but Ian rescued her by grabbing it out of her hand in the nick of time. Having already served Jada, Elly snatched up her tray and rushed from the room.
Agatha’s face turned so red Jada feared the older woman might pop a vessel in her sinewy neck. “That’s not funny, Sasha! You shouldn’t joke about that. People might believe you.”
Having finished off Jada’s salad, Sasha gave Jada’s plate of steaming mussels a covetous look. “I wish they would. Do you believe I’m gay, Mrs. Buckley? Jada?”
Jada swiveled her head toward Sasha, fast enough to make her slightly dizzy. Jada squinted and wondered why Sasha was moving around so much. She should sit still so people could talk to her properly. “Should I believe it?”
“Yes,” Sasha said.
At the same time, Agatha replied, “No!”
Ian mumbled, “Damn, I forgot to ask for another bottle.” He went over to a com unit on the wall.
“Then I will,” Jada said. Upon seeing Agatha turn an alarming shade of burgundy, Jada added, “I mean, I won’t. I don’t believe it.”
“I’ve had the best idea,” Sasha said, clapping her hands. “This is the perfect time for me to come out. Think about it. We can blame it all on Ian. Can’t you see how to spin it, Agatha? Poor Sasha, heart broken by billionaire playboy’s desertion, finds passionate cure in the arms of ... wait for it ...” she waved her slim hand in the air as if revealing a marquee “... in the arms of another woman. Gasp! I’ll give lots of interviews about how I can’t trust men anymore and how I only feel safe with women, blah blah blah.”
Jada thought she must be kidding, or demented. When the supermodel reached out and, quick like a bunny, snatched a mussel from Jada’s plate, hid it in her lap then looked up to the ceiling as if she hadn’t done it, Jada decided Sasha was definitely demented.
Agatha, meanwhile, contemplated Sasha’s suggestion. Her high color faded. “That’s not a bad idea. You could be onto something.” She pulled out her phone, a heavily-rhinestoned affair, and worked it with thumbs as agile and quick as a teenager’s.
Jada felt like someone needed to be the voice of reason in the room, and since no one else was stepping up, she guessed the task was left to her. “That’s ridiculous. It doesn’t work that way. Work that way. Work this way? Isn’t that a song? No? Yeah. I think it’s a song about being a lesbian.”
Ian returned to his chair. “You’re thinking of ‘The Way We Were.’ And it’s definitely not a song about lesbians.”
“Nope, nope, nope,” Jada said, rocking slightly and enjoying the way the candlelight flickered on the gold filigree trimming her china plate. “Work this way. Baby we should work this way. That’s it. A singer sings it.”
Sasha laughed, a deep, throaty sound. “You’re thinking of ‘Born This Way.’ Lady Gaga.”
Jada pointed at her. “That’s it! Exactly. The lesbian song. Lesbians are born, not made by players like Ian Buckley.”
“Damn, Ian,” Sasha said. “How much wine has she had, anyway?”
“Three glasses, I think,” he said.
At the same time, Jada answered, “Not enough.”
Sasha snatched another mussel off Jada’s plate. “You wouldn’t think three glasses would be enough, but it’s looking like it is.”
“Nope, nope,” Jada said.
“In her defense, she hasn’t eaten much today,” Ian said. “And someone is stealing her dinner, which isn’t helping.”
Sasha pried the meat out of the mussel and popped it in her mouth. “It’s not my fault. It’s like taking candy from a baby.”
“Something else I’ve seen you do.”
Sasha only smiled.
Jada couldn’t take her eyes off the madly-texting Agatha. Her thumbs moved so fast it was mesmerizing. “Stop her, Sasha. She’s probably telling everyone about your stupid idea.”
Sasha barked a laugh. “I like you, Mrs. Buckley.”
“I guess I like you, too. But I don’t want to. Makes me feel even worse about kissing him.”
“Oh, you two kissed, did you?” Sasha raised her perfectly-shaped eyebrows. “Ian? Have you been kissing your pretend wife while you were pretend-engaged to me?”
“As far as I know, Jada actually is my wife, legally anyway,” Ian answered.
Jada whispered loud enough that someone in the hall could have heard her. “I feel bad about it. Because I’m a man-sealing harlot. Wait. That’s not right. Heehee! I mean, stealing. I steal men, I don’t seal them. Heehee!”
“You look pretty straight-laced for a harlot,” Sasha said. “And you shouldn’t listen to anything Agatha says. She hasn’t made sense in like forever.”
“That’s too bad.”
Sasha nibbled on Jada’s garnish. “Yeah. I’d fire her if she weren’t my mother.”
Jada goggled at her. Then at Agatha. Then at Ian.
Her mother?
She pushed her chair back and struggled to her feet. She was going to pitch her napkin down on the table to illustrate her disgust, but she couldn’t find it. Had it fallen to the floor? What was she doing, anyway?
She remembered and glared around the table. “That’s it. I’m leaving. You’re all fruity ... like cakes. Fruitcake. And I don’t like fruitcake. I have no idea why anyone would eat it.” She turned to make a dramatic exit, but stumbled slightly on her way to the door. “Oops!”
Ian rushed up behind her and steadied her with a hand on her waist and another on her arm. “I’m sorry, Jada. I should have gotten you out of here sooner. I think I’ve had a bit much myself. I’ll help you upstairs.”
“Nope nope nope. You’re all nutty. Like ... well, not like nut-cake, because that would be even grosser than fruitcake, and it’s probably not even a thing.”
Sasha called from behind as Ian led Jada from the dining room. “If it makes you feel any better, I was kidding about your marriage turning me gay. I’ve always been gay.”
Agatha cried out in outrage. “Why don’t you shout it from the rooftops? Are you—”
Jada blocked out the arguing mother and daughter as Ian guided Jada toward the grand staircase.
She pulled on Ian’s arm and stopped him at the foot of the stairs. He was so tall, and handsome, and ridiculously rich and successful. She really did have fun with him and had enjoyed fantasizing about him.
Too bad he was crazy. She wondered if all super-wealthy people were insane. She’d never know, since she’d never ask. She was way too polite, unlike some people in this place.
“ARE ALL RICH PEOPLE CRAZY?” Jada asked.
Ian finished giving Elly instructions over the intercom then guided Jada to a chair in her bedroom. She thumped down on the cushion hard enough to bounce then looked up at him, her beautiful dark eyes sparkling.
Jada’s question amused Ian. “Seems that way, doesn’t it?”
She peered around the room. “I don’t see Ms. Kitty.”
“I’ll send someone to find her.”
“No, she’s probably getting another massage, or down in the kitchen or who knows what. That cat has settled fast into the good life, let me tell you. She got a massage and I still haven’t.”
Ian sat down on the settee. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“Yeah, but it’s okay. She’s a good cat. I love her.”
Ian warmed to Jada’s sincere expression. His grandfather used to say that alcohol revealed a person’s true nature. Ian hadn’t been convinced of it, but if his grandfather were correct, then Jada was purely adorable.
“You know,” Jada said, “I feel bad about one thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
“About kissing y
ou.”
Ian felt a pang in his chest. “I wish you wouldn’t. It was only a kiss. And you have to realize by now that I wasn’t actually dating Sasha. It was a deal we made a while back.”
The corners of her mouth drooped. “Yeah, but I didn’t know that when we kissed.”
“It was nothing, Jada. You did nothing wrong.”
“I don’t know.”
“I do. I have no idea if you’ll remember this tomorrow, but here’s the whole truth about Sasha. She’s the younger half-sister of one of my best friends, Trey. He told me that Agatha was riding Sasha hard about being a lesbian, and asked me if I’d be Sasha’s beard, basically. We sat down with Agatha and worked out the details, how often Sasha and I would be seen together, where, and so on.”
“Huh. Did Agatha get off her back then?”
“She did. As long as the press was convinced Sasha was straight, Agatha didn’t complain anymore. Agatha’s not a homophobe, so much as convinced Sasha’s sexuality might hurt her career.”
“So you lied to the world.”
“Pretty much.”
“I guess it was a good cause,” Jada said. “I saw that you two were supposed to be engaged.”
“That didn’t come from our camps, and wasn’t part of the agreement. We were going to date for six months or so, and then break up. The story was probably created by the usual rumor mill.”
“Hmm, I wonder.” Jada propped her chin on her slender hand. “Maybe Agatha leaked the rumor to the press. After watching her tonight, it seems like something she’d do.”
“You might be right. I hadn’t considered it.”
Jada bolted upright and leaned forward, excited. “Agatha is probably behind our mess, too! Did you see how she jumped on Sasha’s idea so fast? Lemme think. Yeah. That’s probably it. Think about it.”
“I am.”
“Think. Think. Good, because I’m onto something here. On-to-it! Agatha leaked the information about the engagement so she could turn Sasha into a wronged woman when she leaked a fake marriage license with your name on it to the press. Whew! That’s a lot. I bet she’s already got Sasha booked everywhere to tell how she’s struggling to get through life without you!”
Ian considered the idea. Jada might be a few sheets to the wind, but her theory wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Agatha was a hell of schemer. “Might be. I wouldn’t put it past her.” He enjoyed the way Jada lit up when he agreed with her. “Maybe we should think about it some more when we haven’t been drinking.”
Jada laughed. “I’m only a little tipsy.”
“Me too.”
She laughed again. “I can’t see you as tipsy. You’re too ... too ... not the kind of person I’d ever describe as tipsy.”
Ian grinned. “So it’s drunk or nothing for me, huh?”
“Nope. I bet you never get drunk either. You wouldn’t want to lose control. You always have to be in control.”
Ian’s grin dimmed. She was right, of course. It was disconcerting. He hardly knew the woman, yet she was growing on him at an alarming rate. He wanted nothing more than to pick her up, toss her on the bed and show her exactly how much he liked to be in control. Instead, he stood and straightened his shirt.
“I think it’s time I get back down to Sasha and that woman before they work Mrs. Best to death,” he said. “Elly will be up with some food and will take care of you, okay?”
Jada blinked at him, her expression sober. “Mm-hmm. Okay.”
Was she hurt that he was leaving? Hell, he didn’t know what to think or what to do. Doing the right thing was warring with doing whatever he wanted. Jada was such a lovely person, and he didn’t meet many people like that in his world.
He’d do the right thing by her, protect her. “I’ll probably be gone tomorrow before you get up.”
Jada’s brows knitted. “Oh. Why?”
“I have to get back to the city. Work, you know.”
“I know. I work, work, work all the time, too. It’s never done, is it ... work?”
“It’s not,” he said, and was jolted by the truth of the statement in a painful, unaccustomed way. “So, I’m sure we’ll see each other again once we get everything straightened out. In the meanwhile, I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here and let the staff get a lot of pampering out of their systems.”
“Okay. If you say so.”
His hand lifted of its own accord, the external expression of an urge to stroke her silken cheek. He lowered his hand. “Good night then. Sleep well.”
He forced himself to walk away and refused to dwell on the disappointment in her eyes.
“Goodnight,” she said softly behind him.
He closed her door behind himself and took a few steps before stopping in the middle of the hall. He was doing the right thing. Jada wasn’t the kind of woman you had a fling with, and Ian wasn’t ready for more than a fling.
Not wanting a serious relationship was one of the reasons he’d gone along with pretending to date Sasha. It took him off the eligibility market, only drawing the kind of women to him who understood he wouldn’t give them more than a night or two of pleasure.
Jada wasn’t that kind of woman. She was the kind you waited for, who you introduced to your parents. She’d want a simple engagement ring and a small wedding with family and close friends. She was the rarely-found girl next door.
She was dangerous.
Elly stepped into the hall and approached rapidly, carrying a silver, covered tray.
“There you are,” Ian said. “That was quick.”
“You know Mrs. Best, sir,” Elly said. “She whipped up a lovely omelet and a few other goodies in a snap.”
“And you sped it right up here, too. Good girl. Thank you.”
Elly mumbled and shuffled her feet. Poor girl couldn’t take a compliment. He cleared his throat. “So, if you would, I’d like you to make Jada your priority while she’s here. Sasha and Mrs. Brimgore will probably try to steal you away, but don’t let them. Tell them I said you are to focus on Jada whenever she wants you, okay?”
Elly didn’t appear impressed with the idea of standing up to Sasha and Agatha.
“I’ll tell Nina to call in some extra help to take care of those two. Is that better?” Ian asked.
She exhaled in relief. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”
Ian nodded, turned to leave, then stopped. “Oh, and Elly, if Jada’s up to it after she eats, have Deb come and give her a massage. Good. That’ll be all.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ian took a few more steps, then stopped again, turned. “Oh, and before Jada goes to bed, please find her cat for her.”
“Yes, sir. That’s easy. Ms. Kitty’s in the kitchen.”
“Good. Bring her to Jada’s room before you turn in, please. That’s all.”
He turned again, walked a ways before realizing he hadn’t heard Elly open the door to Jada’s room. He raised a hand and called out, “I really am done now. Get that food to her before it gets cold.”
“Thank you, sir” the young woman said.
He heard her knock lightly on the door and the soft reply of “Come in.”
He wished he was going back in that room instead of being forced to suffer more of the Brimgore woman’s company. It was Sullivan’s fault, every bit of it. He wouldn’t have come out to the lake cabin if Sullivan hadn’t persuaded him. And he never would have been put in the position of guarding a woman he’d much rather seduce than protect.
And Brimgore never would have found him out here if Sullivan hadn’t told her where Ian was.
Ian trudged down the curving staircase to the first floor, reluctantly heading to the dining room. He could hear the woman already, her shrill, nasal voice carrying down the hallway and skewering his eardrums like a pike.
Damn that Sullivan. Ian should fire him—twice.
Chapter Three
THE NEXT MORNING, JADA FULFILLED her promise to herself and had breakfast on her balcony. It was a beautiful morning, some chill st
ill in the air, with brilliant blue skies and a fair breeze rippling the surface of the sparkling lake.
Birds chirped and sang to one another through the woods and across the lake. Someone must have trimmed the path edges already that morning because the scent of cut grass wafted in the air, blending with tangy pine and sweet wildflowers.
Jada sipped the delicious, freshly-squeezed orange juice and wriggled her toes in her warm, furry slippers. A cool gust made her shiver and she tugged on the lapels of her downy, fuzzy robe.
This had to be the height of decadence, she thought, setting down the juice and tearing off another piece of the freshly-baked, buttery croissant. Mrs. Best’s skills were a wonder. The roll practically melted on Jada’s tongue.
She leaned back in the chair and sighed. It would have been an ideal morning but for a few unfortunate things. One, Ian was gone, and two, Jada had made a total ass out of herself the night before.
The instant she’d woken up, she remembered what happened. Jada couldn’t believe she’d gotten half-drunk and said so many moronic things. Why, oh why, couldn’t she be a blackout drunk and not recall any of it? Why did she have to remember every single, excruciating detail?
Whenever she thought about it, even now, outside on the balcony basking in the splendor of Ian’s estate, her face grew warm and she became slightly nauseous. She couldn’t recall being more embarrassed. Lesbian song? Man-sealing harlot? Telling everyone she’d kissed Ian?
She wanted to disappear, melt away.
To make matters worse, she still hadn’t heard from her sister. Marina always returned Jada’s calls quickly. She was aching to tell Marina everything that had happened and had texted her several times that morning. She’d gotten no response.
Now Jada was getting worried. What if something had happened to Marina? Something bad?
She told herself not to worry, and overcome by the sudden need to move, she hopped out of her chair and leaned on the balcony’s iron railing, scanning the wide sweep of natural grounds. She should go for a walk, she thought. Maybe it would rid her of her antsy nervousness.