by Lucy Score
Victoria may have been a bitch, but she was right about one thing. Ashley didn’t belong here.
She felt a tingle between her shoulder blades, reminding her that she was unprotected. Prey.
“Ready for a rematch?”
His voice sent a warm jolt down her spine. “That was a one-time ... occurrence,” she hissed, turning slowly. She hadn’t even heard Jason come up behind her. He moved like a freaking jungle cat.
“Are you part ninja or something? You have this habit of sneaking up and scaring the crap out of me.”
He smiled and lifted his glass to his lips. “Maybe your hearing just isn’t very good.” She narrowed her eyes. They stood shoulder to shoulder, surveying the room.
Lots of well-dressed people seemed to be enjoying themselves. Oblivious to the potential eruption in the corner.
“Don’t think that you can just run away and pretend this never happened, Ashley.”
“Nothing did happen, Jason.”
“Then why are you running away?” He was smirking again.
“Shut up.”
He flagged a server and handed Ashley a glass of champagne. “Here. You can drink this one instead of wearing it.”
She rolled her eyes, but accepted the glass, taking a deep swallow. She watched as across the room, Steven, now in the company of several younger execs, burst into raucous laughter.
Jason followed her gaze. “You are welcome to spend the night here. There’s room in my bed.”
Ashley crossed her arms. “I can’t figure out your game.”
“What makes you think this is a game?”
“Either you make a habit of seducing women at parties or ...”
“Or what?”
“Or you’re abnormally interested in me for reasons yet to be explained.”
“You can’t think of any reason I’d be interested in you?” He laughed, an unexpected booming sound.
Ashley shook her head. “You are nothing like I thought you would be.”
“How’s that?” Eyes forward, he ran a finger down the nape of her neck, following the exposed skin on her spine to the top of her dress.
A new crop of goose bumps erupted on her arms.
“You’re not some cold, obnoxious tycoon.”
“What am I?” He wasn’t even pretending to scan the room now. He was watching her face.
“Dangerous.”
She patted herself on the back for managing to keep the shiver out of her voice. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have to find my fiancé.” And possibly kick him in the balls.
She brought Steven a beer to tone down the scotch and took his arm automatically when dinner was announced. Now was not the time for a relationship showdown, so she kept a tight lid on her emotions.
Ashley purposely kept her eyes focused ahead, even though she could feel Jason watching her.
It was amazing how one evening could make someone so keenly aware of another human being.
Ashley surveyed the dining room with its clusters of round, numbered tables with elegant floral centerpieces. “Where do we sit?”
“Victoria said something about a seating chart.” Steven guided them to the closest table.
“Steven, you’re over here.” Victoria waved from a table along the wall and started toward them.
He pinched Ashley. “Behave,” he whispered under his breath and steered them over to the table.
Ashley felt her body tense, debating the merits of fight or flight, and kicked herself for not being braver.
“You don’t mind if I steal your fiancé do you?” Victoria asked with a sharp smile.
Ashley felt the bite in the words.
“I thought it would be more fun if I split up some of the couples at different tables. You understand, don’t you?”
Steven pinched Ashley again, hard. “Of course.” Ashley gritted her teeth in a fake smile.
“You’re at table eight.” Victoria waved dismissively at the far wall. “Steven, you’re with me.”
Steven tipped his beer bottle in Ashley’s direction as Victoria pulled him away. “Later, babe!”
Well, at least she didn’t have to worry about losing control and accidentally murdering the two of them, or having Steven somehow sense her guilty conscience over Jason during dinner. She only had to worry about making small talk with strangers and surviving until she could drive Steven home and kick his ass.
And then lock herself in the bathroom and try to trace her steps back to exactly where she lost her sanity. Ashley squared her shoulders and went looking for table eight.
She found it in a cozy corner on the exact opposite side of the room from Steven. She wondered if that was a coincidence, or if Victoria had relegated her to Dining Room Siberia for a reason. Dining Room Siberia with Mr. and Mrs. Herbert Something. Well, at least by now she and Mrs. Herbert were practically old friends.
“Hello, again,” she said, approaching the table.
“Oh hello, my dear!” Her tablemates waved cheerily.
“Allow me.” Ashley didn’t even have to look up to see who was pulling out her chair. Her biggest concern was no longer small talk with strangers.
Jason tilted his head, eyebrow raised. He was daring her to play.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Wallaces — Jason was acquainted with them — were thrilled to have the host at their table. The dinner chatter increased when they were joined by another rather important-looking couple. Apparently Ashley and Steven were the only couple Victoria had split up.
Jason took the seat to her right. His hand rested familiarly on the back of her chair where his fingers occasionally grazed the exposed skin of her neck while he discussed market swings with Mr. Webster in the crisp gray suit.
Ashley tried not to squirm in her seat. The whole evening was surreal. One minute she was playing racquetball in a cocktail dress, the next she was being accosted by a wicked stepsister.
Now she was sitting at a dinner table next to Mr. Hot Cold while following the small talk happening around her.
“Tell us about yourself, my dear,” Mrs. Wallace said suddenly, drawing her attention back. “We all seem to know each other already.”
“Yes, Ashley, please do,” Jason smiled, turning to give her his full attention.
She offered him a sweet smile and kicked him under the table as the focus of the entire table fell heavily on her.
She cleared her throat. “Well, I’m Ashley. I work in retail. I’m the manager of a small home furnishings boutique downtown. And, I think this soup is delicious.”
The table laughed.
The mustachioed Mr. Webster nodded approvingly. “Retail! That’s where I got my start.” He turned to his wife, a diminutive brunette dressed in scarlet. “I bet you didn’t know my first job was in my father’s grocery store, did you?”
She smiled prettily. “Darling, we’ve been married for forty-six years. I know everything there is to know about you.”
Ashley laughed with the rest of the table and watched as he cupped a hand over his wife’s. “Yes, I keep forgetting that. Forty-six years? It only feels like five minutes ...”
“Underwater,” Mrs. Webster finished.
Another round of laughter erupted and Ashley relaxed considerably.
“A grocery store? Wait a minute. Are you the Mr. and Mrs. Webster of Webster Foods?” she asked.
“Guilty as charged, my dear. Third generation, family-owned. My grandfather opened the first store in 1918.”
“I love your new local produce section in the downtown store.” Ashley leaned in. “It’s such a fantastic idea.”
“I can’t take the credit for that idea.” Mr. Webster patted his wife’s hand again. “My Anna was the brains behind that.”
Anna waved the compliment away with a smile. “I grew up on a farm, so we’re always looking for ways to support local farmers. It’s worked well at this store so I think we’ll have to talk about expanding the idea.”
“I had been shopping all the w
ay across town at one of the health food stores for all my organic produce until I stopped in your downtown store for a Sunday paper and doughnuts. You know, it would be great if customers could sign up for the farms’ CSAs through the grocery store. Then they could just pick up their produce when they do their weekly shopping.”
Interested, Anna nodded. “That is a wonderful idea, my dear!”
“And if they’re already in the door, what’s to stop them from picking up a few other things that they need? You could even include recipes in each share with suggestions on where to find the rest of the ingredients in the store!”
“So you’re a business-minded woman who enjoys a sugary treat on occasion. Your fiancé is a lucky man,” Mr. Webster announced, nodding at Jason.
“Oh, Jason’s not my fiancé. Steven is at another table.” Ashley hastily corrected.
Jason’s fingers applied a subtle pressure to her neck. “Yes, Ashley and I are just old friends.”
Ashley flushed.
“Well, then, Steven is a lucky young man,” Mr. Webster amended.
“He certainly is,” Jason agreed quietly enough into his glass that Ashley was the only one who caught the words.
“Oh now, you’re embarrassing the girl,” Anna tisked. “Tell us about your store. What’s it called?”
Recovering, Ashley chatted about Dwell until the entrées were served. It turned out that both wives had heard good things about the store’s inventory and service, which Ashley filed away to share with her team. Conversations shifted to the couples as everyone ate.
“Don’t you like your fish?” Jason leaned in.
Having him mere inches from her made Ashley’s pulse spike. She hadn’t even realized she’d been playing with her food rather than eating it. He really was stunning to look at. The strong cheekbones, the neatly trimmed beard. And those green eyes that pinned her down and made her feel like the only person in the room.
“No, it’s delicious,” she whispered back. “I’m just not very hungry.”
“Are you feeling alright?” Genuine concern was in his tone.
“It’s nothing physical.”
“Really? It seemed like it could have been very physical earlier,” he teased.
She shot him a glare. And then smiled brilliantly. She turned. “Mrs. Wallace, Jason loves dogs. Have you told him about yours?”
Ashley helped herself to a bite of fish and smiled smugly while Mrs. Wallace began to sing the praises of her dear free-range Horatio.
Jason’s hand snaked under the table and squeezed her knee in a bone-crushing grip. Ashley covered her gasp with a cough and slipped her fork under the table. She jabbed it against his thigh until he released her.
As the dinner plates were cleared, the guests began to disperse. The early birds were bidding everyone goodnight and heading home. Ashley had a feeling she and Steven wouldn’t be in that crowd. He was still sitting at his table — next to Victoria, she noted — listening raptly to something one of their companions was saying.
She and Jason rose to say goodnight to the Websters and the Wallaces.
“It was lovely to meet you,” Anna said as she gave Ashley a peck on the cheek. “I hope I’ll see you next time I visit your store!”
“What a lovely couple,” Ashley said, half to herself, as she watched them leave the dining room.
“They’re the only ones I can stand.”
He didn’t look like he was joking.
“So it wasn’t a coincidence that they were at our table?”
Jason gave a half smile. “That was to appease me. And the Wallaces were to annoy me.”
“What was I for?”
He smiled, a warm, slow curve. She felt her heart flip-flop. “Let’s just say you were a very interesting surprise.”
There was that word again. Ashley shook her head and sighed.
“What?”
“I feel like part of me wants nothing more than to talk to you all night and figure out what game you’re playing. And the much larger part wants me to run screaming in the opposite direction.”
“I would find you if you ran.”
“You know, saying things like that earns some people restraining orders.”
“Jason!” Victoria’s voice sounded like the lash of a whip from two tables away. She was walking toward them, frowning. Ashley had to brace herself to not take a guilty step away from Jason.
“Excuse me,” Jason said quietly and stepped forward to meet her. Ashley wasn’t sure, but it looked like he was putting himself between her and Victoria. It was probably on purpose. He didn’t seem like he did anything unintentionally.
They kept their voices low Ashley couldn’t hear most of their conversation, but it looked like Victoria was angry. Jason crossed his arms and shook his head.
Victoria took a step closer to him. “I can make you, you know. Just one word here in front of all these people ...” Her eyes glittered with excitement.
Jason gripped her arm and led her a few steps away.
Ashley strained to overhear their conversation, but could only glean from Victoria’s triumphant expression that Jason agreed to do whatever it was she asked. Victoria patted Jason’s chest smugly and without sparing Ashley a glance, turned on heel and headed back to her table.
Jason returned, his face impassive.
“What was that about?” Ashley was almost afraid to ask. Her mind raced with the possibilities.
“She wants me to keep you out of their hair while they have a meeting in the library.”
The breath Ashley didn’t know she was holding left in a woosh. “Out of their hair? Seriously, what is her problem?”
“Trust me, you haven’t got the time. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER NINE
He guided her out of the dining room, careful not to touch her, she thought. Steven didn’t look up as they passed his table.
“Your fiancé doesn’t seem to be very attentive,” Jason observed. He put his hand on the small of her back and led her down the hallway.
“He’s very focused on his career.” It came out mechanically. Ashley blamed it on the fact that all she could concentrate on was the feel of Jason’s hand against her. “He’s just got a lot going on right now.”
“And you?” Jason paused in front of a set of doors.
“And I what?”
He smiled and pushed the doors open.
“Jason, I don’t think this is a good idea —”
She took a tentative step inside and he closed the doors behind them.
The room was full of rich, dark woods, leather, and shelves of books that rose from floor to ceiling. The massive desk was angled to take advantage of both the river view through the wall of glass and a direct line of sight to the entry. She had a feeling Jason wasn’t the type who would appreciate someone sneaking up on him.
French doors opened onto the terrace outside and a large flat-screen dominated the opposite wall with more bookshelves. The hardwood under her heels was a dark, hand-scraped teak.
“Wow.”
There wasn’t an Xbox or an old box of pizza anywhere to be seen. The room officially had nothing in common Steven’s home office.
“Jason, this room is incredible.” She wandered around pausing to look at a book title or trail her fingers over the head-height wainscoting.
She turned to study him in his habitat. Leaning against the desk he seemed more relaxed. However, more relaxed didn’t necessarily mean less dangerous.
Jason gestured at one of the overstuffed club chairs in front of the stone fireplace. “Sit.”
Ashley narrowed her eyes, weighing her options. She was certain that nothing “bad” would happen unless she let it. She just wasn’t so sure that she wouldn’t let it. Grudgingly, she sat. He took the chair next to her.
“Are you cold? Would you like me to light the fire?”
Ashley noted a neat stack of wood next to the hearth. “If you tell me that you go out into the woods wearing flanne
l and chop your own wood, I may need to borrow Victoria’s fainting couch.”
He leaned forward in his chair and took her hand. “I have been known, on occasion, to swing an axe. And wear flannel. But usually only at the cabin.”
Ashley shifted in her seat. “You have a cabin?”
He nodded. “It’s on a creek in the woods about an hour from here.”
“Do you go there often?”
He nodded again still studying her. He was toying with her fingers. He spun her engagement ring around and around. “This doesn’t look like you.”
It was true. The platinum three-stone ring was more modern than what Ashley would have chosen. But complaining about the engagement ring the man you were going to marry so generously chose was pretty bad form.
“Who does it look like?” Ashley teased.
“Not you.”
They were silent for a few minutes. Ashley couldn’t quite relax in his quiet company. Victoria’s words from earlier kept ringing in her head.
“Do you do this often?” she asked, finally.
“Do what?”
“Choose a woman at a dinner party and see what happens,” she said looking at their joined hands.
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” His voice was mild, but his eyes hardened marginally. “Do you think you’re tonight’s distraction?”
“I honestly don’t know what to think. But I do know I’m not interested in being anyone’s conquest for the evening.”
Jason released her hand and leaned back in his chair. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes played on his lips. “It sounds like you don’t think very highly of me.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How do I know that this isn’t about you getting back at your fiancé for ignoring you?”
Her temper flared and she shoved out of the chair. “You think I’m the kind of person who would do that?”
He shrugged, and she wanted to kick him.
She turned away from him and paced across the room, arms folded across her chest.
The accusation stung, and just beneath the surface was the awareness that she had basically accused Jason of the same thing.
She paused in front of a work console with several monitors streaming footage from security cameras around the estate. She watched as party guests went silently about their business. The caterers were packing up in the kitchen. Jason’s grandfather was saying good-bye to two couples in the foyer. She took a deep breath.