Room Service

by Jill Shalvis

  “That wasn’t all that was different.”

  “You probably don’t do a lot of barhopping, either. At least the kind of bar I took you to.”

  “I didn’t mean different bad.” She looked at him as if she could see right through him, damn it, into the very black depths of his soul. “I meant different…scary.”

  Scary? He’d scared her? Christ. “Em…” He squeezed his eyes closed tight. “I didn’t mean to…I wouldn’t—”

  “No.” She turned him to face her, both hands on his arms. “No.” She smiled. “Scary good. I’m trying to tell you that I had the most amazing time, and yes it was different, and yes it scared me because it was different. Different as in more meaningful. What we shared last night when we made love—”

  “Wait.” He shook his head. God, he couldn’t let her finish. “I think you should stop right there. Before you say something you’re going to regret in the name of lust.”

  “It wasn’t just lust.”

  “Yes,” he said. “It was. It was just a normal night of lust.”

  “Oh.” She blinked once, the hurt in those depths unmistakable. “I see.”

  Hell. He should have left last night. He was a complete idiot. “I don’t want to hurt you—”

  “No. No, it’s okay. I understand. It was a casual thing.”

  “That’s right. Just a normal night out—”

  “I get it.” She nodded. She took her hands from his arms. Backed up a step. Even curved her mouth into a smile.

  Though it didn’t come close to reaching her eyes.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, trying to soothe him, which made him feel even more like slime. “I’m fine.”

  From somewhere behind them her cell phone rang and she jerked as if she’d been shot. “Excuse me, I’ve got to get that—”

  “Yeah. Uh…good luck with your auditions.” At his own lame words, he winced. Good luck? Could he be a bigger ass? “Em—”

  But she’d already turned away.

  Just as he’d wanted.

  EM PICKED UP her ringing cell phone. When she heard her hotel room door close behind Jacob, she closed her eyes. He was gone…

  Just a normal night out.

  She was such a fool, such a damn fool, she thought angrily as she flipped open her phone. “Hello?”

  “Em.”

  “Eric.” She let out a breath and concentrated on the here and now. “I take it you’re not still…tied up.”

  “Uh, no.” He lowered his voice. “Look, it was great. But…”

  “But what?”

  “Afterward…” He sighed. “She cried, Em. It broke my heart.”

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “Because she’s asleep right next to me. Why did she cry?”

  Em sank to the bed. “Did you ask her?”

  “She denied doing it, but I saw the tears.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “We, uh, did it again. It was…well, words fail,” he said in an awed voice. “Not the sex, the connection, you know?”

  Yeah. She knew.

  “I fell in love with her all over again.”

  Em let out a long breath. She was falling, too.

  “God,” Eric whispered. “I think she’s just screwing with my head. What do I do?”

  She laughed a little harshly. “Eric, what in our history together makes you think that I have any clue when it comes to love?”

  “Because your heart’s always in the right place. You’re all about heart and soul, Em, making memories, shit like that.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m really a pretty big screwup in that area. Right now all that matters is that we’re going to be unemployed and eating canned soup for the rest of our lives if I don’t get downstairs and get going on the auditions—”

  “She cried, Em.”

  Em rubbed her aching temples. Other things ached, too. Between her thighs.

  But the biggest ache of all came from her heart, which she reached up and rubbed now, though it didn’t help. “If I had to guess, she cried because she loves you, too.”

  Utter silence greeted this.

  “Eric? You there?”

  “She told me she doesn’t.”

  “Even you are not that clueless as to believe her.”

  “Look, I’m just a guy,” he pleaded. “We were born clueless.”

  “Okay, listen, I haven’t had caffeine, and my night was…well.” She drew a deep breath. “But I think she just doesn’t know how to deal with the love she feels for you, or even how to show it. Tying you up was symbolic. You get it? You’re hers. You’re tied to her. You see?”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I guess.”

  “You know what happened before. The two of you were too hot, too heavy. You didn’t share the stuff that scared you. You didn’t do the things you need to do to make it last.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You burned it out.”

  “I know.” He sounded terrified. “I don’t want that to happen again.”

  “Then do more than the wild sex. Talk. Communicate. Listen to each other. Be there for each other.”

  “I can do that. But pinning Liza down is hard. She’s not exactly the communicative type.”

  “Well, turnaround is fair play,” she said, quoting Jacob.

  He paused. “You mean…tie her up?”

  “Give the boy an A.”

  He laughed softly. “Gotcha. Now tell me about your night. You have a bad one?”

  Bad? No. Good? No. Try the best night of her entire life. “Hard to explain.” Especially since, for Jacob, it had all been…“normal.” Heat filled her face at that. Bastard.

  From its perch still on her floor, the alarm clock went off again, and she sighed. “We’ve got to get a move on. Get up. Get Liza up. Meet me in the conference room for round two.”

  “Oh, boy,” Eric said. “Here we go again.”

  Yeah. Here we go.

  THOUGH HE COULD HAVE showered and changed at Hush, Jacob went back to his apartment. Right now he wanted to be in his own space. But as he climbed the three flights of stairs, he knew the problem wasn’t the outside world, but the thoughts racing inside his own head.

  He wished he was still in bed with Em. He wished she was tucked beneath him, while he was buried deep inside her, taking them both to that nameless place of abandon they’d been to several times in the night.

  How many women had he been with? Many, and not once when a woman had called out his name while lost in passion had he stopped just to watch her.

  With Em, he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away. He loved the way she arched up, her throat open and vulnerable, the way she panted his name in that serrated, husky voice that always sounded so…surprised.

  Yeah, that was it. Every time she’d come, she’d been honestly surprised.

  Watching her unravel had the been the sexiest, most erotically charged experience of his entire life.

  Then morning had come and she had wanted to obsess and tear it all apart and look for the meaning.

  And he’d hurt her.

  Damn it, he knew he had, but at the time he hadn’t cared. He’d been choking, panicking, as he’d stared at her, wanting nothing more than to haul her close, bury his face in her hair, and not let go.

  Never let go.

  He scrubbed his hands over his face but the longing remained. And he didn’t know what to do with it. Why wasn’t it gone? Why hadn’t one night been enough? One night had to be enough.

  He came to the landing outside his front door and stared in surprise at Pru, who was sitting there waiting for him. “I’m going crazy,” she said, and rose to her feet.

  Jacob unlocked his door, shaking his head when Pru pushed ahead of him and entered.

  “Come on in,” he said dryly.

  “Did you hear me?” She whirled to face him, her neat, long braid nearly blinding him. “I’m losing it here.”

  “Join the club.” He stood in the middle of his living roo
m, glancing toward his shower with longing.

  “Jacob.”

  He sighed. “What’s happened?”

  “Everything. Nothing.”

  Jacob squinted at her. “Is that in English?”

  “We went out last night, Caya and I. And at the end I kissed her. Caya kissed me back, and I’m telling you, it was real. It was love—”

  “Pru—”

  “It was,” she insisted.

  “How do you even know the difference between lust and love?”

  She looked startled at the question. “I just do.”

  “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

  “Okay, well…lust can be sated. Lust is gone when you wake up the next morning. Lust doesn’t have those bone-deep terrifying feelings, like you have to see that person again or your life is never going to be the same.”

  Something pinged deep in Jacob’s gut. It felt like worry, but that couldn’t be it because he never worried. Nothing had ever been worth worrying over. “Sounds like nothing another night of sex wouldn’t cure.”

  “No.” Eyes sad, Pru shook her head. “See, you’d think so, but then you get there, and you do it again, and it’s only worse.”

  Shit. Shit. She was wrong. She had to be wrong. “Maybe some lust is just more stubborn than others.”

  “Honey, lust is a fickle bitch, but one thing she isn’t is stubborn.”

  He stared at her, dread clawing its way up his throat. “I see.”

  Someone knocked at his door. Turning his back on Pru, he opened it and found Caya.

  She had wet eyes and a matching misery on her face. Aw, hell. “I suppose you want to join—”

  She stuck a finger into his pec, poking hard. “Did you tell Pru she should tell me how she felt about me?”

  “Uh—” He glanced back at Pru over his shoulder, but she’d moved out of sight from Caya, flattening herself back against the wall, shaking her head no, looking panicked that Caya might see her.

  He’d known this was going to come back and bite him on the ass. He turned to Caya, still on his doorstep. “Look, I don’t think I should get involved—”

  “Well, it’s too late now!”

  “Caya—” He stopped helplessly when a tear spilled over. “Aw, no. Don’t—”

  She burst into tears.

  “Goddamn it.” He pulled her in for a hug, turning her away from seeing into his apartment, though it didn’t matter because Pru had vanished into his bathroom. Now that she was out of sight, he moved Caya inside because he figured there was no chance in hell either of them was going away anytime soon.

  “See, you do care,” Caya sniffed against him.

  “Just a little.”

  She pulled back and looked into his face. “Look at that, admitting it didn’t make you choke.”

  He frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’re just as screwed up as me when it comes to letting people love you, and loving them back.” Caya swiped at her wet cheek. “I’m sorry. I know I’m freaking out here, and taking it out on you.” She covered her eyes, then dropped her hands to her sides. “Pru said she loved me.”

  “I know.”

  “She wants me to tell her how I feel back, but what the hell do I know about this stuff?”

  “You’re asking me?”

  Caya laughed. “Yeah. Fine mess, huh? So do you think it’s screwed up that I…sort of love her back?”

  “Well, I—” Jacob broke off when the bathroom door behind them opened.

  Pru stepped out, hand over her mouth as she stared at Caya.

  At the sight of her, Caya jerked as if shot. “Y-you’re…here.”

  Pru nodded, her eyes filling.

  “You…heard me,” Caya whispered.

  “‘Sort of’?” Pru whispered.

  Caya swallowed. “More than sort of.”

  Pru’s eyes filled. “Oh, my God.”

  “I didn’t want to love you,” Caya said. “I tried not to. But you’re it for me.”

  Pru’s eyes overflowed, and there was so much hope on her face, it hurt Jacob to look at her. “What about men—”

  “They’re great, but not what I want.”

  “Caya, my God. Are you sure?”

  “Very. Besides, most men are maturity challenged. Sorry,” she said to Jacob. “No offense intended.”

  “None taken,” he said dryly.

  Caya turned back to Pru. “I’ve been out there, I know what’s waiting. I don’t want any of it, men or other women. Just you.”

  They reached for each other in an embrace so real, so raw, Jacob had to close his eyes.

  When he opened them, they were kissing.

  “So.” He cleared his throat. “I guess you can both go now.”

  They kept kissing, passionately. Jacob figured it was a fantasy of men everywhere but for him it only felt like salt on a wound he couldn’t see. “You know what? Never mind. I’ll go.”

  They just kept at it, as if they didn’t need air, didn’t need anyone but themselves.

  Jacob grabbed his keys and walked out of his own damn apartment.

  12

  Note to Housekeeping:

  Refill the sensual massage oils and the condoms in the Haiku Suite.

  THE AUDITIONS were worse than the day before, if that was even possible. American Idol rejects had nothing on the people they saw today, and after several hours, Em had her head in her hands and Liza had a drink in hers.

  “This isn’t going to work,” Liza said after they’d seen an eighty-year-old woman from Russia, who could indeed cook but couldn’t speak a word of English.

  “No, it’s not going to work.” A heavy dread was making itself at home in the pit of Em’s belly. “Well, it’s been fun working with you while it lasted.”

  “You could talk to Jacob.”

  “No.”

  “You could beg Jacob.”

  “Double no.”

  “Okay, then.” Liza put her drink down and picked up her purse.

  “Where are you going?”

  “You saved my life. Now I’m going to save yours.”

  “What do you mean, I saved your life?”

  Liza looked at her. “I wasn’t asleep when Eric called you this morning.”

  “You weren’t?”

  “I was faking it. I’ve always been good at faking it. I’ve had to fake it with every man I’ve ever been with—except Eric.”

  “Oh, Liza.”

  “It’s because he loves me. I can believe it because he told you. He has no reason to lie to you.”

  “Honey, he has no reason to lie to you, either.”

  “I know, but…well, I just couldn’t be sure. Love has never been good to me.”

  Em knew that. Liza’s parents hadn’t been warm and fuzzy but cold and impossible to please. Liza had been acting up all her life to prove she didn’t care. “Eric’s the real deal,” Em said quietly.

  “I’m getting that.” Liza’s eyes shimmered with emotion. “And that’s my point. I can let go, let myself really love him, you know? No games, just the real thing. And it was you who helped me see it, that this thing between us can really last for the long haul.” She hugged Em tight. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that. But I’m going to try like hell. You’ll see. I’m going to fix this for you.”

  “You can’t—”

  “I’m your assistant. It’s my job to solve your problems, and I’m going to go solve this. Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “Just come on.” Liza opened the conference door.

  Eric stood there with his clipboard monitoring the short line of hopefuls left. There were only two, a girl who looked to be about twelve and an old man who, if she wasn’t mistaken, was napping on his feet.

  “We need you,” Liza said to Eric.

  Without question, Eric turned to the two candidates left. “I’m sorry, that’s it for today. Thanks for coming.”

  Liza looked at him
as if bowled over.

  “So what do you need?” Eric asked her.

  Still looking unbearably touched that he’d blindly follow her simply because she said she needed him, she cleared her throat. “Let’s go. You’ll see when we get there.”

  As soon as they hit the lobby and walked toward the main entrance of Amuse Bouche, Em hesitated. “He already said no, Liza.” Her heart tightened at the memories of last night and this morning. Memories he’d sullied when he’d looked at her as if she’d been any of the other women he’d let in, and then out, of his life.

  She hadn’t expected that, she could admit, though what she had expected, she couldn’t exactly say. She’d known who he was, what he was. She’d known his past. She’d known he was wildly, fabulously sexy, with an edge, with a wanderlust spirit, a man who rarely settled in one place for long.

  And she’d slept with him anyway, just as she’d also begun to fall for him.

  That made her the crazy one, not him.

  “Let’s just talk to him,” Liza said.

  “I can’t.”

  Liza frowned. “You look pale.”

  “Just tired.”

  “Long night?”

  Aware that both Liza and Eric were watching her carefully, she lifted a shoulder.

  “I knew it,” Liza said. “Oh, honey. Did he break your heart? Because if he did, I can break him. I can—”

  “Liza.” Em smiled. What else could she do? “Let’s just fix one thing at a time.”

  “Yes. Starting with the show.” Liza looked through the empty dining room toward the kitchen, jaw tight, eyes determined. She was a bulldog when it came to this stuff. “Humor me. Give me five minutes.”

  The restaurant wasn’t open yet. No one greeted them so they moved toward the kitchen doors, where they could see lights and hear talking.

  Liza knocked.

  A pretty brunette poked her head out. Em recognized her as the sommelier from the other night. “Can I help you?” she asked, looking greatly stressed.

  “Yes,” Liza said. “I heard both of your assistant chefs were out with the flu and that you’re in a real bind.”

  Both Em and Eric looked at Liza in surprise.

  The sommelier sighed. “It’s true. But I don’t know how you heard such a thing—”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised what I hear.” Liza smiled and offered her business card. “I’m just a guest here, but you can see I’m an assistant producer, so I know how to get things done. Our location director here—” she pointed to Eric “—is an amazing cook. No formal training, but he’s doing research for a show. Maybe he could help you out today. You could call our studio for his references.”