Over Easy: (Santa Lena Sizzles, #1)

by Jessa York

  My stomach clenched. “Who is the client?”

  “Jack McCallister.”

  Shit.

  9

  Harper

  You have got to be fucking kidding me. Jack McCallister? Of all the clients at Brentford Organics, of course I had to meet with the one who just saw me naked not five hours ago. How was I supposed to face him after sneaking out?

  I stepped out my door and nearly ran right into…who? My fucking ex-husband. “Hi, sweetheart. I thought I’d bring you some breakfast.” What the hell? He carried a to-go tray with two large coffees in one hand and a crinkled brown bag.

  If looks could kill, he’d be vaporized right now. “What are you doing here?” I asked my idiot of an ex while I locked my apartment door and turned back around.

  “What? Can’t a guy do something nice for a lady?”

  Oh, you mean like sleep with her cousin? Sure, why not.

  “I don’t know what’s going through your mind right now, but I don’t want you to bring me coffee. Ever. You didn’t do it when we were married, and I certainly don’t want you to do it now.” I strode past him and rushed to the stairwell. “And after last night’s display at the bar, what would make you think I’d ever want to speak to you again?” Eighteen months of radio silence and now he was going to start dropping by?

  “I just figured you might want some caffeine after being out so late,” he said in a weird tone.

  My stomach sank, and I came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the stairs. “How do you know what time I got home?” I asked breathlessly. A shiver ran down my spine, in a bad way. Not the kind of nice shivers Jack gave me last night.

  He shrugged and said, “Honey, look. I’m a little down on my luck. Could you spot me a few bucks until payday?” The smile that used to work wonders on me now had no effect other than nausea. And if I had a nickel for every time he asked me for a few bucks.

  “Stay away from the track, Gabe. You and your debts aren’t my problem anymore.” Thank God for that. My hair swept over my back as I powered the rest of the way to my car.

  “Come on, just a few bucks? Your new boyfriend looks loaded,” he called from behind me.

  Instead of answering, I jumped into my car and got the hell out of there.

  Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Where interacting with Gabe was annoying, Jack was going to be humiliating. How exactly was I going to deal with him?

  I had about ten minutes to figure it out. The ancient folder full of order forms that Dean gave me when I first started at Brentford probably wouldn’t be much help. For one thing, I’d never used them. And for another, dealing with sales wasn’t my job.

  My heart was going a mile a minute, and I was pretty sure my breakfast was going to make a reappearance on the I-45 relatively soon. Good God, was this some cruel joke?

  I concentrated on my breathing and ran through what I could possibly say at the meeting. Clearing my throat, I spoke to myself, “Sorry for running out on you and stealing your clothes and food.” Perhaps blunt wasn’t the way to go. Maybe complimenting him might work? “You looked hot last night, and your bedroom skills are top-notch. Well done. Too bad you picked a screwed-up chick like me to hit on. Better luck next time?”

  Five minutes. Maybe I could fake a flat tire and cancel? Yeah, and maybe I could cancel my employment as well. Dean was counting on me to come through for him. No way was I the type who buckled under pressure and gave up. I loved my job, and if keeping it meant I had to confront the last man on Earth I wanted to see right now, I’d do it.

  Jack

  Almost eight-thirty. It was not like Vivienne to be late. She knew that order had to be in this morning or I’d be shit out of luck for food next week. What was taking her so long? I massaged the back of my neck, trying to dig the ever-present kink out.

  When I looked up, I experienced déjà vu. Harper was standing at the door, looking around aimlessly. The moment she spotted me, her body froze. Our eyes met, and my cock—the traitor—jumped, remembering how she looked underneath me, naked and ready.

  I gave my head a shake and adjusted myself to avoid embarrassment before standing up. She squared her shoulders and traipsed over to me like she owned the place. What the fuck was she doing here?

  “Harper, this is a bad time. I’ve got a meeting any minute. I’ll call you...” Never. So strut that sweet ass of yours out of my restaurant.

  Instead of getting mad, she sneered, like she knew I was lying. “I’m your meeting, Jack. Vivienne is ill, so I’m filling in for her.”

  She was taking over for Vivienne? After quickly getting over the shock of seeing the woman who deserted me, I decided to have some fun with the situation.

  “I see.” In fact, I saw no laptop bag, but she reached into her large purse and pulled out a file folder about an inch thick. Paper? Was this 1995? All orders were done online now and had been for years.

  “I’ve got a pen in here somewhere.” As she searched for a writing implement, her grasp on the stack loosened and poof, the entire folder ended up scattered under the tables and chairs. It took not a small amount of effort to remain silent and not burst out laughing at the sight of her throwing her body on the papers to pick them up. After my initial merriment at her catastrophe, my internal laughter soon turned to desire as I viewed her on her knees with her ass up in the air. Jesus. Was she trying to turn me on?

  “Let me help,” I said and began gathering papers to distract myself. That worked for about thirty seconds until she inadvertently bumped my head with her hip.

  “Uh, sorry, I didn’t see you,” she said. But I saw you. The slit in her black skirt went close to the danger zone with her doubled over like that. What I wouldn’t give to slide that material up to her hips and... “Are you feeling okay? Your face looks funny.”

  I blinked myself out of that fantasy. “Fine.” Then I grabbed the papers with more vigor, attempting to shake this temptress out of my mind. “I think that’s all of them,” I said, handing her my pile. She straightened up on her knees and snatched them from my hand, but that also put her directly in line with the zipper of my pants. Seeing her looking up at me, doe-eyed, from that position did wicked things to my imagination again. I think it affected her as well because the papers in her hand once again scattered to the floor.

  This time I couldn’t control my amusement. The color she turned was priceless and the embarrassment on her face was hysterical. I leaned over and gathered the rogue documents in one fell swoop.

  I stood and said, “Shall we go into my office? Or perhaps it would save time to just sit on the floor and go over these?”

  Harper turned an even darker shade of red but got up on her own as gracefully as possible. Her hands brushed off her skirt and straightened her blouse, obviously not appreciating my humor.

  “Your office will be fine.” Then she stalked off through the kitchen doors in a huff.

  A wicked grin overtook my face. This was going to be fun.

  10

  Harper

  Could I have been any more inept? Good God, I screwed up royally and Mr. Perfect just loved watching the show. How had I managed to drop the entire file not once, but twice? Idiot that I was, of course I would end up on my knees, inches from his manhood. Seriously?

  It would be a miracle if Jack didn’t cancel his contract with us altogether after the scene I made. Vivienne was the height of professionalism, but I was the inexperienced dolt. Hopefully, divine intervention struck soon because Dean would can me if I lost this client.

  The kitchen was dimmed and nearly abandoned—not at all how it was last night. One lowly worker lurked around. “Good morning.” I smiled at her.

  She looked up in surprise. “Hi, Miss.” Rag in hand, she continued wiping down the appliances. Ah, must be the after-hours cleaning crew. No wonder everything in here shone so bright.

  Sighing loudly, I was grateful to have guessed correctly that Jack’s office was at the very back. I swung the door open and stepped int
o a surprisingly barren space. A few pictures and certificates adorned the walls, but other than that, nothing spectacular to speak of. His desk was unusually neat—like that was a surprise from Mr. Immaculate Closet.

  I turned my head at the sound of joking and talking coming from outside the door. Jack still wasn’t in the office, which I figured was odd. After I wandered—snooped—around for a few more minutes, my phone bleeped. It was Audrey.

  Audrey: OMG, my head is killing me! What was in those pink flamingoes?

  Me: Pink squirrels. And IDK what was in them besides deliciousness. I only had a bit of a headache. Sorry you feel so bad.

  Audrey: Bad is an understatement. I feel like death. That Ben guy was very good to us after you guys left…which we also need to discuss, but not right now. Texting is making me dizzy. TTYL

  To avoid any interruptions, I put my phone on vibrate. Still no sign of Jack, so I inconspicuously poked my head around the corner. There he was, chatting with the cleaner while frying up something that smelled incredibly appetizing. The sight of him treating the cleaning staff like a member of his family touched me. You could tell the level of respect his employees had for him, but he didn’t seem to abuse it. Instead, he carried himself with not only an air of authority, but also of warmth and kindness.

  He prepared three plates and coffees. “Dig in, Madeline. And tell that son of yours he better shape up or I’ll personally go down to Florida and kick his ass.” He smiled a sympathetic grin and squeezed her shoulder. Next, he snapped up the remaining plates and coffee cups in a flash and I ducked back into the office and dashed to a chair.

  “Hungry? I made some breakfast,” he said and dumped the plates and cups onto his desk. Damn, the greasy aroma smelled tempting. Sausage, scrambled eggs, bagels, and bacon. My stomach answered for me and I sighed.

  “I could eat, thanks.” I snagged a cup of coffee. “Mmm, just how I like it. How did you know?” I wondered.

  “Last night, Harper. Did you forget you had tea at my place? I paid attention,” he said, eyebrow raised, sausage on his fork.

  “Uh, right. I forgot.” That was before the crying, but after the sexy meal and stroll home.

  The sausage was just right, and it was weird how much better I felt after eating just one.

  “Feel better?” he asked, biting into his bagel. Why did watching him chew turn me on? The way his strong jaw and lips moved mesmerized me. “Harper?”

  Hearing him say my name snapped me out of my lust-filled state. I cleared my throat. “I do, yes. I mean, not that I was feeling poorly before.” Liar, you were a nervous wreck. What kind of sane person dropped a huge stack of papers not once but twice?

  His shoulders shook as he laughed. Whatever. Jerk. I pretended to be overly interested in my breakfast, which wasn’t difficult.

  He sighed. “Where’s Vivienne today?”

  Without thinking, I snorted and said, “Probably got pink squirrel-itis, like Audrey.” Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything. I swallowed my mouthful of bagel. “What was in those things? They tasted divine, but Audrey is dying a slow death.”

  He sat up in his chair and squinted at me. “Now that you mention it, I remember my mom staying in bed the day after she and my aunts would make those. Suppose we should have stuck with wine for you ladies.” He drummed his fingers on the desk.

  Frowning, I dropped my fork onto the plate. His mom drank those? He gave me the same cocktail his mom liked? This man was getting more and more baffling.

  “How come you aren’t stricken like your friends?”

  “Just a guess, but I think Ben had something to do with that.” I reclaimed my fork and finished off my plate in silence.

  “Where did you leave the folder?” I stood up, ready to fetch it and get this awkward meeting the hell over with. There was no reason to stall. Jack was going to see that I knew nothing and probably have me fired.

  “On the counter.” He pointed out the door, and I clomped out to find it. The kitchen was still barely lit, but Madeline had vacated. Her plate was rinsed and set in the rack. I wasn’t sure why that made me smile, but it did.

  Those freaking papers were a jumbled-up mess. Not that it mattered. Even when they were in order, I still had no clue what to do.

  “Ready?” I asked as I strode back into the room, feigning confidence. He collected the plates and pushed them off to the side, making room.

  “Yeah, why not?” Jack picked up his coffee and took a sip while I tried my best to ignore his mouth and look busy. Hmm, this page seemed like it was useful.

  “How about we start here?” I sat down, crossed my legs, and picked up a pen. Running my hand through my hair, I asked, “Produce?”

  He made a steeple with his hands in front of his mouth. “Produce. Write down Belgium endive, broccoli rabe, Swiss chard...” He trailed off and gazed at me.

  Jack

  Having this much fun with a beautiful woman had to be illegal. Don’t get me wrong. I was still pissed off in a big way. But watching her as she squirmed was doing a lot to make up for it. Especially gratifying was when she ended up on all fours without me even asking. I had to stifle a groan at that one. When her blouse sagged open as she scrambled to pick up the sheets...fuck me.

  And the best part was, she had no idea the effect she had on me. Her embarrassment told me that. The documents she brought in were in such disarray, nobody could fix them. But still, she held out hope that I somehow wouldn’t notice her act. I could always tell a faker.

  “On second thought, do you think we should write the order up online? That’s how Vivienne always does it. I’m assuming it’ll be easier to submit that way.” I offered my helpful advice.

  Her jaw went slack, and a surprised look crossed her face. What are you going to say next, beautiful?

  “Umm, yeah, sure. Let’s do that.” She uncrossed her legs and gazed at her purse. “But I didn’t bring my laptop.”

  “I’ll fire up mine,” I said and opened my computer. Harper stayed seated, hands on the armrests, uncertain whether to stand up or not. Squirm, honey. “You’ll have to come around here to see the screen,” I told her and crooked my finger at her suggestively.

  A gentleman would have offered her his chair, but a gentleman would have missed watching her ass sway as she bent over, trying her damnedest to log on to Vivienne’s forms. Silently, my body shook from suppressed laughter, observing her guessing Vivienne’s passwords—Badass, badmomma, badbunny. Interesting choices.

  I should have ended her pain. A nicer man would. A few more tries and I’d let her off the hook—qwerty, password, everhard, hot driver, 696969... Okay, enough or I’d bust a gut. “Do you want to use my password?”

  She swung her head, her body seized in rage, and she shouted, “You have a password? Why didn’t you say so?” I gave her a half-smirk and placed my hands on her hips to move her.

  “Here,” I said as I logged in and rolled back, still not giving up my chair. She took over the laptop again, and I observed her fail to navigate the system. That ass never stopped moving, and it called to me until I gave in and leered.

  “Are you staring at my behind?” she asked and tsked. I grinned and shrugged my shoulders. Her blood boiled, but damn, she looked cute as hell. Time to change the subject.

  “Why didn’t Murray come?” To me, he would be the next logical choice if Vivienne were out of commission.

  She sighed. “I told you. Audrey is suffering from the effects of your cocktails as well, and someone had to stay home and deal with the twins’ schedule. You knew they were married, right?”

  “Ah, I see. I didn’t realize Audrey was his wife.” I pondered for a minute and then said, “If everyone else is out sick, how come you aren’t? You drank, too.”

  “I drank, but they drank more. All I had was a dull headache when I woke up,” she said, eyes narrowed to tiny slits, trying her best to figure out the order.

  My playtime was almost over. “Hand me the folder.” I searched through the informa
tion and found the access codes. This was all we needed. But she didn’t know that. Yet.

  “Can you mark down eight pounds of morels?” She scratched her nose and screwed up her lips but didn’t admit defeat. “Add two crates of jicama as well.”

  She straightened and put her hands on her hips. “Okay, I’m pretty sure neither of those are even real things.” Game over.

  I stood and put my hands on the desk, caging her in. “Morels are mushrooms and jicama is similar to a potato or yam,” I whispered into her ear. She shivered, and I could see the tiny hairs stand up on her neck as I stepped in closer. “Why did you leave this morning? I asked you to stay, and you agreed. When I woke up, you were gone.” I scanned her face and hoped she didn’t shut down again.

  “I panicked, okay? When I woke up and everything that happened started going through my head again, I felt like a fucking fool. So, I bolted.”

  “You were embarrassed?”

  She snorted. “Of course, I was embarrassed. I acted like an idiot. First, I fell on you and ruined your expensive suit, then I freaked out and started crying. What kind of moron cries when they make out with a hot guy?” she yelled and pushed her hands against my chest, but I refused to budge. The honest expression on her face as she stared into my eyes convinced me. The desire in my gut forced me. I took her mouth in a punishing kiss, scolding her for running off, showing her what she missed out on by leaving.

  Her ass hit the edge of the desk and my hands lifted her up as I moved between her legs. My cock knew what it wanted, but my brain still worked. Sort of. This woman needed me to go slow. I could do that. My lips trailed down her neck. She moaned, encouraging me to go further, as I moved her blouse over and nipped her gently on the shoulder. Her hot little hands roamed my back, pulling me closer.

  Soon, my fingers found her buttons, and I’d undone enough to glimpse her stunning lace bra, when a vibrating phone interrupted us. Our eyes stared at her phone on the desk. It was difficult not to notice.