Even Ricca had to snort. “Come on, honey. I’m surprised you’re not at the rug with a dust-buster already. Let’s go. I’ll wrap your hair up so you can get in the shower.”
Jaya scowled. “Shit, do I smell that bad?”
Micha nodded as Ricca shook her head, but only Micha spoke. “Did you know you have an ice-cream smear on one of your boobs?”
Jaya’s head snapped down, then back up again to look at her friends. Goddamn. She was a mess.
A look of mock alarm crossed over Micha’s face. “If you’re going to cry, take it outside. No pussies in my camp.”
Jaya barked out a laugh. “Yeah, hard-ass. I get you.” Giving Ricca her best I’m-a-pathetic-chick-so-don’t-hold-it-against-me smile, she added. “Lead the way.”
After she showered, she’d changed her ice-cream-stained sweatshirt for jeans and a graphic T-shirt that read “My balls are bigger than yours.” The way she figured, she could use the extra boost of confidence.
When she went back to the living room, the tornado was over and her friends were staring at the bag containing the evidence of the need to self-soothe. “I did a little shopping.”
“We can see that.” Ricca’s breath came out in little puffs of air.
Both she and Micha stared at the bag with envy and wonder. Self-conscious, Jaya muttered, “Don’t worry, I can return it.”
Micha frowned, but her eyes were alive and excited. “I know a Gold’s Boutique sale bag when I see one. The pink ribbon means you got this on sale, and that means there’s no turning back. What did you buy?”
“Fine. But I’ll have you know I’m not proud of myself. And I’ll be forced to sell myself on El Cajon Boulevard in order to pay for these.” Jaya pulled out the simple shoe box. Just the name on the box had Ricca stumbling back.
“Oh, Jaya. You didn’t.”
Heat crept up Jaya’s collarbone. “Unfortunately, I did.”
Speechless, Micha’s fingers reached out and caressed the outside of the black box. Jaya knew how she felt. The temptation to put on the shoes and run around without a care was strong. Nestled in pretty pick tissue wrapping were the latest pair of Christian Louboutin stilettos. Shimmery gold with hints of red. Stunning. Absolutely stunning. The three of them had eyed them on a shopping trip a month ago. None had dared even look at the price tag.
Micha plopped herself on the couch. “I gotta tell you, getting fired is a big deal but doesn’t warrant pocketbook suicide.”
“I already feel rotten enough.” She recounted the whole story of the firing.
Ricca growled. “That stupid asshole is worth less than Satan’s left nut. I’m going to kill him and your father. Of all the bullshit in the world, this has got to be the biggest pile.”
Jaya could only stare. Ricca didn’t lose her temper. That was Micha’s job. Micha tearing off was just Micha being Micha. Ricca tearing off was something to be feared.
Ricca touched her hand and squeezed. Warm brown eyes glistened with sympathy tears. “We’re here for you. If you want, I can see if we’ve got an opening at Fantasies. You know you’d be a shoo-in with your experience and reputation.”
She would not cry. She would not cry. She would not—Well damn. The splash of a hot tear had Jaya hanging her head. She’d actually failed. And now the people who she loved most in the world were witness to her failure.
As Jaya lifted her head, she heaved a deep sigh. When her eyes met Micha’s, her friend’s eyes were soft, kind and a little shimmery. What the—? Was Micha crying for her?
Micha stood, swiftly taking the shoes with her. She kept her back to the two of them. Clearing her throat, she picked up one of the shimmery gold shoes and said, “Jesus. They're gorgeous. But you can’t keep them.”
“I know.” Jaya eyed the shoes in Micha’s hands. “How could something so beautiful be so awful?”
Micha shook her head. “Well, you’re not the first woman to lose control with the credit card when things get a little rocky. No feeling sorry for yourself. Solution time.”
Ricca gnawed delicately on a fingernail. “Well maybe we could Craigslist them.”
Both Jaya and Micha shouted no, then giggled.
Finally Jaya said, “No. They’re too beautiful for Craigslist. Besides, I would only get a fraction of what they're worth.”
“Fine.” Ricca breathed. “Then I have a solution, but Micha’s going to have to agree to it too.”
“What?” Jaya eyed her dubiously. “If it involves becoming a shake-your-booty-ho to pay for them, I’m not interested.”
Ricca rolled her eyes and giggled. “How about we share the shoes?” Jaya frowned, but Ricca continued as if she hadn’t noticed. “We borrow everything from each other already. Why not do a footwear time-share?”
“Which means,” Micha said as she paused to caress the gold strap, “you’re only out a grand.”
Jaya's jaw unhinged. There was no way. “Wait, I can't let you bail me out like that. I'm the moron who let my credit card act as my brain with no job or sugar daddy. I can’t make you suffer the consequences too.”
Micha ignored her outrage and continued stroking the shoe. “Who's suffering?” She pulled the shoe in closer and admired the detailing. “I'd drop six hundred dollars easy on a pair.” She shrugged “Not too bright, but we've all done something stupid in the name of retail therapy before. And like you said, these are an investment. Some fabulously insane Carrie Bradshaw type will pay the big bucks for this pair one day.”
“Micha's right. Besides, if I'm going to spend money, what better way than insane footwear and in assistance of a friend?”
Jaya couldn't believe her ears. “You guys would do that for me?”
Both rolled their eyes and nodded.
“Consider yourself my charity event for the week.” Micha smirked.
Ricca grinned. “Now. What are you going to wear with these when we go out tonight?”
Chapter Four
Come on, Trudeaux. Shoulders back, chin up. You are amazing. Jaya was well aware of the impact the three of them made in the crowded lounge. They weren’t the typical San Diego girls, tall, blonde and leggy—but they were stunning in the way they stood out from the crowd with their brown skin and dark hair. Or at least, she could be made stunning just by standing between her friends. With Ricca's curves and Micha's striking looks and hair, nobody could help but look twice. For once though, she didn't bask secretly in the glow of secondary adoration. But maybe Micha was right. If she faked it, she'd start feeling better.
They selected the booth by the bar. It had easy access to drinks, a great view of the dance floor, and was close to the side exit in case the place was packed and they didn’t want to go through the lobby of the Westhorpe Hotel to get out.
Jaya slid into the booth, careful to keep the skirt of her dress bunched. The damn thing was so frothy and flirty, every time she moved, the skirts threatened to lift up and expose her ass to the world. The top was no better. The neckline was so daring, she hadn't bothered to wear a bra with it, putting her goods even more on display. But at least she was comfortable in the shoes. They felt like padded silk and they looked amazing. The perfect complement to the dress.
Once their drinks arrived, Jaya raised her glass as she tried to shake the feeling that someone was watching her. Though, given the Do-Me shoes and the Look-At-Me dress, she should have been more surprised if someone wasn’t watching her.
“Okay, listen closely, ladies, because this is the only time you'll be hearing this from my mouth. You were right.” She paused for effect. “I do feel better. Thanks to you guys, I’m not pulling the death-by-cookies-‘n’-cream routine. And—I have a plan.”
Ricca raised her glass and clinked it with Jaya’s.
Micha's grin was broad as she spoke. “I knew we'd see the old you eventually—Planning and everything. Soon you’ll be making one of us a to-do list. You’re on the road to recovery.” She took a sip of her Lemon Drop, her ruby-red lips closing around the rim of he
r martini glass. “So, what's the plan? Should I get my shovel? Will this require a trip to the desert and a body burial?”
“As much as I would love to throw Derrick in a ditch, I’ve got something else in mind.” With the hairs on her neck standing at attention and making her take furtive look around, she continued in a softer voice. “I'm going to finish my drink. Then I'm going to get my job back—and oust the interloper from my family.”
Micha and Ricca exchanged wide-eyed looks. “I prefer the desert idea,” Micha mumbled.
“Well, okay. As soon as I legally get rid of him, I’ll don the sexiest of cat-burglar-chic and help you dig.” Jaya sighed cheerily as she took another sip of her drink. “I will be back on top in no time.”
Ricca's happy face went from friendly bolstering to wary concern. “Exactly what is the plan?”
A shot of adrenaline zinged through Jaya. Now that she had a strategy, the tension was already rolling out of her shoulders. “First things first. I'm going to get a date to Tamara’s wedding. There’s no way I can show up alone. It just screams ‘I’m a jobless loser who can’t even find a boyfriend.’”
Micha slapped the table top. “At last. Now you’re talking sense. I told you all that I'm-strong-enough-to-go-to-the-wedding-alone nonsense was bullshit.”
“Yes, you were right. There’s no way I want to show up alone.” She shrugged. “Besides, it won’t hurt to have somebody hot as a fixture. Someone who won’t think Tamara is the most beautiful woman on the planet and the sun shines out of her ass.”
Micha snickered. “Is that what a sunrise looks like?”
Jaya chuckled. “Once I have a date to the wedding, my real work begins. I know for a fact Dad has invited some of our largest clients to the wedding. And I’m sure they’ll win the conference bid. When they do, Dad will be beside himself to invite Brett James to it. He loves to schmooze and give an air of family at Trudeaux.”
“But how do you plan to get close to him?” Micha asked. “Won't Derrick try and keep you away?”
“Probably. But I’ll figure a way around it. I just need to speak with the client. I know I had Brett at that pitch.”
“You two are on a first-name basis now?”
Jaya grinned. “You’d better believe it. Once the client starts grumbling that he wants me back on the project, Dad won’t have much of a choice but to reinstate me.”
Ricca shook her head, sending her glossy black hair waving around her shoulders. “I don’t know, Jai. Sounds risky. What if the client doesn’t demand to have you back?”
Jaya waved a dismissive hand. “I have that covered. I know this client inside out. I’m a comic-book-reading, superhero-loving, self and publically professed nerd. They won’t want a substitute. I know what I’m doing.”
“Okay, so when do we start trolling our contacts for Mr. Perfect?” Micha pulled out her phone, apparently ready to get on the case. “You only have two weeks. And we’ll want to help you audition them, shirts off of course.” She waggled her eyebrows.
Ricca giggled. “You could always take Beckett.”
Jaya shook her head. “No go on Beckett. I’ve known him since college. It’ll be hard to pass him off as my boyfriend, since Dad and Tams know him too. You must have some male model types you use for Fantasies, Inc.”
“Yeah, we use an agency. I suppose we could hire you someone. But why pay if you can get a real date?”
Micha tapped her phone. “That’ll be our last resort. In the meantime, I have a couple of guys I've been dying to fix you up with.”
I’ve done it now. Now that she'd opened the floodgates, her friends would be all over this.
Through the crowd, she noticed Beckett's broad shoulders making their way over to the booth. Most people got out of his way—something she'd never understand because he was harmless. His blond good looks and lazy countenance should have put people at ease, but instead, he made people nervous. Ricca especially. Maybe it was his eyes. They were shrewd. Never missed anything. That and his six-foot-five build.
As he joined them, Jaya put on her best brave face smile. But he saw right through it. “Cut the shit, Jaya. You’re a terrible liar.”
She flashed Ricca a look. “Did you tell him? I know you two work together, but is there no loyalty?”
He rolled his eyes. “She didn’t have to tell me anything. I called your office. Then your secretary—who’s now your sister’s secretary, by the way—told me you were fired. What the fuck?”
Jaya cleared her throat. “Yeah, long story. Pretty much the old man lost his mind and I'm out of a gig. Oh, and did I mention I'm still expected at that stupid wedding?”
He winced. “If you want, I—”
She cut him off. “Already been through that. And no. But thanks.”
To avoid the uncomfortable shift in emotion, Jaya scanned the crowd. The usual glitterati were out in full force. Short skirts, bleach-blonde hair and teetering heels. Her eyes shifted to the bar area and she froze. No. It couldn’t be.
Alec. Leaning against the bar. Staring at her. The way she saw it, she had two options. Duck under the table and hide, though not the best choice because, given the skirt, everyone would see the color of her thong. There was the option of shuffling out of the booth and making a break for it. But Micha was quick and Jaya would never make it out without having to explain herself.
As he approached, her whole body tensed, every beat of her heart wearing a more permanent pattern into her chest cavity. Shit. With every step he took, he looked like a predator. The sexual approach she could handle. A kind-hearted, hey-aren’t-you-the-girl-who-cried-on-my-jacket? thing she couldn’t do. If he showed her pity, she’d cry and ruin Micha’s excellent makeup job. Not to mention he’d probably think she was crazy for real.
All of his tall, dark and delicious frame paused at their booth. “I got tired of waiting for you to come to the bar, so I figured I’d brave the crowd.”
The velvet voice melted into her center making her core contract. The broad chest didn’t help either. Talk about a sexy, make-your-panties-drop kind of body. She whipped her head up to meet his gaze.
If anyone asked her later, she would swear up and down she tried to form words—
Intelligent words. Instead, all she managed was the flap-jaw routine. Open, close. Open, close.
“Cat got your tongue?” He grinned at her.
Damn, that smile should be illegal. “I-I—Uh…”
Clutching his hand to his heart, he added on the extra charm. “I’m wounded. It’s worse than I feared. You’ve forgotten my name and my face.”
The giggle escaped before she could corral it. “I haven’t forgotten your name, Alec. You’re the one who forgot to call me about your shirt.”
“Ahh, you remember me then. It’s a start. And I did call you. You forgot to mention that you no longer worked at Trudeaux Events.”
Heat suffused her face. “Well, since they were the reason I ruined your shirt, I figured they should pay.”
“And if I told you I didn’t call about my shirt?”
Great. A charmer. Derrick had been a charmer once. “I’d say you had no other reason to be calling me.” She felt Micha nudge her with her foot.
Alec put his hand over his heart. “Ouch. Shot down by a goddess.”
Jaya fought not to roll her eyes. “Does this approach ever work for you? The whole I’m-sexy-and-have-more-charm-than-brains thing?”
“So, you think I’m sexy?” He winked at her. “I’m just going to ignore the rest.”
“Are you going to introduce us to your friend, Jai?” Micha made no bones about her open admiration as she eyed Alec up and down. “Even better, is your new friend going to introduce me to his friend at the bar?” Micha turned and waved to the tall man at the bar with the sandy brown hair.
Jaya could feel her skin grow hot. She wasn’t supposed to ever see him again. He wasn’t supposed to be charming and hot. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She had a plan to implement. “He’s n
ot my friend. He’s—”
“Alec Danthers. Ladies,” he said with a grin at Ricca and Micha, but only nodded at Beckett. Maybe it was some guy thing, but the two of them didn’t speak and Jaya could sense the malevolence coming off Beckett in waves.
Ricca and Micha both traitorously grinned back at him.
“Allow me to buy your drinks for the rest of the evening,” he said to them. “Maybe you can put a good word in with your friend for me.”
Jaya rolled her eyes. Taking in the badge on his shirt that said Manager, she said, “Isn’t it your job to make sure the bar makes money and not loses it?”
“And not hit on my friend?” Beckett grumbled beside her, but no one paid attention to him.
“I think the Westhorpe Hotel can handle a couple of free drinks for some beautiful women.”
While Alec chatted with her friends, Jaya realized the carefree flirtation had vanished. Sure, he still smiled and complimented her friends, but something she’d said had turned off the light inside. Damn.
“Thanks for the offer of drinks, Alec. But, if you’ll excuse me, I’m headed to the dance floor.” Walking away she could feel his gaze on her back burning her flesh.
Jaya joined the gyrating throngs on the dance floor and she closed her eyes and moved her body to the tune of Rihanna’s “S&M.” As Jaya moved her hips to the lyrics about chains and whips, a warm hand landed on her hip. Sharp zips of electricity jolted her flesh.
The deep voice at her ear was low and inviting. “Come see me when you’re ready for a drink.”
Alec kept his hand on her hip for a moment too long. His parting squeeze made her body yearn for a more intimate touch.
Even as she turned to face him, he had already moved toward the bar. When her friends joined her on the dance floor, she bit back a smile as Micha gave her a clear, girl-go-get-your-man look. Ricca just fanned herself and fake-swooned. Silly girls. Charmers are for morons. And this was not her first trip to the rodeo.
“Honey, if you don’t go and get him, I will.” Micha booty bumped her. “You put on your moxy—borrow mine if you must—and go make me proud. I’m going to take on his friend.”
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