Drake nodded somberly. “I totally get it. The law is cutthroat. Some people just can’t take the pressure.”
She gnashed her teeth and resisted the urge to kick him in the shin. It had always chapped his ass that Jane had a higher GPA, and graduated with higher honors.
He had to be loving this.
“Well,” he said, glancing at his watch, “I have a meeting. But it was good to see you again. And I guess I’ll be seeing you at the reunion.”
“Reunion?” Jordan asked.
“Once a year a group of us from our law school graduating class get together and have a party,” Drake told him.
Jane suddenly felt sick to her stomach. “I didn’t see your name on the RSVP list.” It was the only reason she had signed up to attend.
“I was supposed to be abroad but I rearranged my schedule.” His face softened and he touched her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Hey, if it’s still too hard for you—”
“Of course not,” she said, resisting the urge to bat his hand away. Feeling him touch her turned her stomach, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of thinking she cared one way or the other.
“Great, then I guess we’ll see you there.”
We. Of course it was too much to hope that he wouldn’t be bringing his fiancée.
Giving her shoulder a condescending pat, he walked away, and she grabbed her champagne glass and downed it in one swallow.
“Please tell me you didn’t date that guy,” Jordan said.
“Um…”
His brow lifted. “Seriously? Not only is he an arrogant jerk, but in the looks department you are way out of his league.”
That was the first time anyone had accused her of that. “We were together for five years.”
He looked so disappointed in her. “At least you came to your senses.”
“Actually, he dumped me for Megan. About nine months ago.”
“Tell me you’re over him. Because you can do better, trust me.”
“Of course I’m over him. He was never the love of my life. I’m just…I guess I’m still a little…bitter. And betrayed, since I’m the one who introduced him to Megan.”
“She’s a lawyer?”
“A dog groomer.”
His brow popped up again.
“We owned a bichon frise and we took him to her for grooming. When Drake dumped me, my new apartment wouldn’t allow pets, so she got my boyfriend and my dog.”
“With the exception of the dog, I’d say you got the better end of the deal.”
He was right of course. She never would have been happy married to Drake, even if he had asked. Her family thought he was the perfect man for her, which in retrospect should have been her first clue that the relationship would end in disaster. She should have taken it as a sign to run screaming in the opposite direction.
“So, you’re a law graduate,” Jordan said.
There was no denying it now. “My parents and my siblings, they’re all lawyers, so it was just assumed I would be too.”
“Let me guess, they’re not too thrilled that you’ve abandoned the law.”
“Actually, they don’t know that I have. I lied and told them I’ve been working in the corporate law department of Andersen Technologies, a small corporation in El Paso. It’s just easier that way.”
The waiter appeared, depositing their salads at the table and refilling her glass.
She took a generous swallow. She should be thankful, that could have gone a lot worse.
Then why did she feel so lousy?
“So when is this reunion?” he asked.
“Next month. But I’m not going.”
“Why not?”
“I can just see it,” she said, breaking her roll and slathering butter on one half, even though she had pretty much lost her appetite the instant Drake appeared. “Me still single and alone while Drake struts around with his new fiancée on his arm. I don’t think so. It would be too humiliating.”
“So don’t go alone.”
“That’s a great idea. The problem is, I’m not dating anyone right now.”
“So take a friend.”
“The thing about ending a long-term relationship is that friends pick sides, and since most of them were Drake’s to begin with, I lost those in the split too.”
He shrugged and said, “In that case, take me.”
Eyes wide, Jane dropped her roll into her salad. Jordan stifled a grin as she swiftly fished it back out. “Take you?”
“Why not?” Jordan said. “I like parties.”
She set her roll down and wiped her hand on her napkin. “Look, I appreciate the gesture, but I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking, I offered.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Jane, that guy takes way too much pleasure from the fact that he thinks you’re all alone pining for him. He needs a reality check.”
“But that is reality. Except for the pining part. I am alone. And taking my boss to a party—”
“So I won’t be your boss.”
“But you are my boss.”
“No one else needs to know that.”
She nervously licked her lips. “What am I supposed to say? You’re my…boyfriend?”
Her discomfort made him smile. She seriously had no clue how attractive she was. “Boyfriend, lover…whatever.”
“But it would be a lie.”
She didn’t seem to have a problem with lying to him on a daily basis, and lying to her family about where she worked.
“Then you don’t have to tell anyone anything.” He slid his hand across the table and slipped his fingers around hers. They were ice cold, so he flashed her a smile that was sure to warm her from the inside out. “Besides, actions speak louder than words.”
Her lips parted with a soft gasp and she tugged her hand free, eyes darting nervously to the people at the next table. “No. He would never buy that someone like you would date someone like me.”
He sat back in his seat. “Why not?”
“Because…” She frowned and shook her head. “Never mind. I just…I think it would be a bad idea. I’m better off not going.”
“Then he wins.”
“So he wins, so what? It’s not a competition. I don’t care what he thinks any longer.”
Another lie. For reasons that totally escaped him, she did care, which was why he’d offered in the first place. He saw the way she’d paled when Drake approached the table—although that could have had more to do with her fear of blowing her cover. But the pain in her eyes when he announced his engagement, that was real.
Rather than hide behind her morals—and her obvious insecurities—she needed to confront the situation. Confront Drake and Megan. Until she did, she would have a tough time moving on. Not that he had much experience with long-term romantic relationships. He’d never been with the same woman for five months, much less five years. Hell, five weeks was pushing the envelope. But he did know an awful lot about being let down by people he thought he could depend on.
And if that wasn’t reason enough, he was pissed that the jerk had ruined her birthday lunch. And even worse, after five years together, he hadn’t even remembered to wish her a happy birthday.
He wanted to push the issue, but he had the feeling that once Jane made up her mind, it would be hard to change it, so he let it drop. For now. Instead he tried to engage her in another round of witty banter, to lighten the mood, but she wasn’t biting, and she only picked at her food. That guy had really done a number on her.
Honestly, he shouldn’t have even cared. The problem was, he liked Jane. The fact that she genuinely seemed to have no clue how attractive she was fascinated him. And though he’d brought her here to screw with her, it didn’t seem right to kick her while she was down. Besides, hurting her was never his intention. Hell, maybe he could help her.
There was definite chemistry there. Maybe what she needed was someone to pay attention to her, to make he
r see how beautiful and desirable she really was. To make her feel special. And while sleeping with her would of course be his ultimate goal, wherever this thing between them went, he would make certain that it was mutually beneficial.
The sort of woman he usually dated knew what she wanted, and wasn’t shy about going after it. And what they usually wanted was his money, but since he had no intention whatsoever of getting tied down, that had never been a problem. Right about the time he began to get bored, they realized that they were wasting their efforts and the relationship fizzled out. No harm, no foul.
It might be an interesting change if, for once, he was the one doing the pursuing. And he was willing to bet, if she would give up what had most likely been a reasonably lucrative career as an attorney, for what he guessed was an entry-level position at an investigation firm, she wasn’t hung up on status and wealth. Not to mention that she needed someone to show her that she could do better than that arrogant creep she had wasted five years with.
The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Yes, she had been lying to him since the minute she met him, but that was her job, so technically there was no malicious intent. Besides, he wasn’t exactly being honest either.
Jane was quiet on the ride back to the office, and other than thanking him for the tour and for lunch, didn’t say more than a few words for the rest of the afternoon. She knocked on his office door at six to tell him she was leaving for the night.
“Is there anything you need before I go?” she asked. She just looked so…depressed.
“You know, he isn’t worth it,” Jordan said.
“I know. The truth is, I don’t even know why I’m upset. I didn’t want to marry him. I don’t even think I loved him.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’m just a sore loser.”
“Try not to let it ruin your night. Call a friend. Go out for drinks. Do something fun. It’s your birthday.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I definitely will.”
She was lying.
“Well, thanks again for the tour, and for the lunch.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
He had half a mind to walk her back down to her car, but his cell rang. Since it was his mother, he was inclined to let it go to voice mail, but he answered it. “Hey Mom, what’s up?”
“Well, did you talk to him?” his mother demanded.
Her brusque greeting didn’t phase him. She always did like to get right to the point. “Talk to whom?”
“Your brother.”
Confused, he asked, “About what?”
“The invitation. To Nathan’s graduation.”
“You mean the wedding?”
“That’s what I said,” she snapped.
He saw no point in arguing with her. “You know I did. I called you yesterday to tell you that he’s inviting you. Don’t you remember?”
She was quiet for several seconds then said, “No, I’m sure I would have remembered. I’ve been home all day.”
He wasn’t sure why her being home today had any bearing on a call he made yesterday. “Well, I did.”
“So, is he inviting me?”
Hadn’t he just said he was? “Mom, are you okay?”
“I jush wish you would ansher me!” she slurred.
No wonder she wasn’t making any sense; she was hammered. He wondered if things had gone south with her latest man-friend, the filthy rich baron. Was she wallowing in self-pity?
“Yes, Mom, Nathan is inviting you. As I told you yesterday, you’ll be getting an invitation any day. Probably tomorrow.”
“And Mark will be there?”
Mark? “You mean Max? Nathan’s son?”
“That’s what I shed.”
He sighed. There was no point continuing a conversation she wouldn’t even remember in the morning. “Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
She mumbled something incoherent then hung up. He shook his head and dropped his phone on his desk. That was weird. His mother drank socially, but he’d never known her to get good and sauced. First time for everything, he supposed.
He turned back to his computer and tried to concentrate on his work, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Jane. If he knew women—and he liked to believe that he did—she was probably sitting home alone, with a gallon of chocolate ice cream and a spoon, watching a chick flick and having a pity party.
Well, that wasn’t his problem. He couldn’t force her to have a good time. Of course, if he hadn’t insisted that they go to lunch, she wouldn’t have seen her ex and she might actually be enjoying her birthday. So in essence, it was his fault.
He cursed and tossed down his pen. She was miserable and he was to blame, so of course there was only one thing he could do.
Make it right.
Eight
Jane wasn’t expecting anyone to stop by, so she was surprised when, at seven-thirty, someone knocked on her door. She dropped the spoon into the ice cream container, set it on the coffee table and paused the movie she’d been watching. It was probably one of her siblings stopping by to say happy birthday. And while normally it annoyed her when they stopped by unannounced, she could use a bit of cheering up tonight.
Clad in a U of T sweatshirt, fleece pajama bottoms and fuzzy slippers, she shuffled to the door and pulled it open—and for an instant she thought her eyes must be playing tricks on her. Or maybe she’d fallen asleep on the couch and she was only dreaming that Jordan was standing in the hall outside her apartment door.
He was still dressed in his work clothes, and carrying a small square bakery box. It never ceased to amaze her how truly beautiful he was, although for the life of her she couldn’t imagine what he was doing here.
He took in her shabby clothes, his gaze settling on her feet, and said, “Nice slippers.”
Thank goodness she hadn’t washed off her makeup yet. He probably would have taken one look at her, turned and run. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
“Despite promising me that you would go out and have fun, I kept having this mental picture of you sacked out in front of the television watching a chick flick, drowning your sorrows in a gallon of chocolate ice cream.”
And he cared enough to stop by and make sure she was okay? First the tour, then lunch, now a visit to her apartment? Maybe she was dreaming.
“Am I right?” he asked.
Not exactly, but freakishly close. “It’s a pint of caramel nut swirl and I wouldn’t exactly call The Terminator a chick flick.”
“The point is, you’re here, and not out celebrating.”
Yeah, and how did he even know where “here” was? Probably the same way he knew it was her birthday. The HR office had all of her personal information.
“You know,” he said. “I dropped everything to race over here and save you from an evening of self-pity. The least you could do is invite me in.”
Right, that would be the polite thing to do, even though the idea of Jordan in her apartment made her pulse skip.
“Sorry, of course.” She pulled the door open and stepped out of the way, doing a quick mental inventory of her living room and kitchen, but any incriminating evidence was on her desk in the spare bedroom. There was nothing else in the apartment linking her to Edwin Associates. Not even in her bedroom. Not that he would be going in there. “Please, come in.”
He stepped into her living room, and she closed the door behind him. He handed her the box. “This is for you.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Jordan took off his coat and hung it on the coat tree by the door. Then he did the same with his suit jacket. She stood watching, unsure of what to say or do. The whole point of the investigation was to catch his interest, and clearly she had. Now she didn’t have a clue what to do about it, how to take control of the situation. He was too much man for a woman like her.
He loosened his tie, undid the top button on his shirt an
d rolled the sleeves to his elbows. He was making himself right at home, and she was a jumble of nerves. Her apartment wasn’t what anyone would consider spacious, but with him there it felt downright tiny.
He nodded to the box that she was still clutching. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
Of course, where were her manners? She slid the top open, and inside was a mini cake. “A birthday cake?”
“I figured you probably didn’t have one, and everyone should have a cake on their birthday.”
That was the sweetest thing anyone had done for her in a very long time. She hadn’t heard word one from her own family—the people who were supposed to care about her—and this man who she barely knew had gone above and beyond to make the day special. “Thank you, Jordan.”
“I’ll bet that would go really well with a cup of coffee.”
A cup of coffee was the least she could do. “Is French pressed coffee okay?”
“Of course.”
She carried the box to the kitchen and set it on the counter, then she put the kettle on to boil and got out the coffee press and beans.
“Did you just move in here?” Jordan asked, gazing around her sparsely decorated living room.
“Nine months ago. I just haven’t gotten around to doing much with it. I sold most of my furniture when I moved in with Drake, so I didn’t have much of my own stuff when I moved out.” She measured out the beans and set the grinder on Coarse, and when it was finished poured the ground coffee into the press. When the water started boiling she poured it in and set the timer on the oven for four minutes.
“This is good,” he said.
She turned to find him leaning in the kitchen doorway eating what was left of her caramel swirl ice cream.
“It’s my favorite,” she said.
He took another bite and licked the spoon. “I hope you don’t mind sharing.”
“I have three more pints in the freezer.” He could eat her ice cream anytime. And watching him, the way his tongue swept over the spoon, was giving her a hot flash, so she busied herself cutting them each a slice of cake.
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