by Misty Evans
Jenna laughed. “I'll take that under advisement.”
“Listen Abigail, can I call you back at our normal time?” Jacob said. “Jenna and I have something we need to take care of before our meetings this afternoon, but I want to talk to you properly.”
“Sure thing.” The smile was apparent in her voice. “It was nice to meet you, Jenna. And Jacob, we'll discuss what you’ve been doing to the poor girl to make her so breathless later. Tootles.”
Jenna laughed as he hung up with his sister. “I like her.”
“Yeah, she's the best.”
She shook her head and her dark red tresses slid off of her shoulder. “I didn’t even know you had a sister.”
“That's the way Mother likes to keep it. Abigail is my half sister. So there's still all kinds of tension there. You'd think the old lady would let it go. The affair was nineteen years ago. But, oh no. Not my mother. She’s held onto that for all these years.”
“Wow, I’m sorry. Do you think Abigail would like to come for the donor dinner? I'd love to meet her in person.”
A shadow of dread crawled up his spine. He would love that, too, but Abigail couldn’t withstand the traveling. She'd be in too much pain. “She can't.”
“Oh, come on, because of your mother? She’s not on the guest list, and if she shows up I’ll handle her. In all these years I’ve only seen her once, from afar. Having Abigail there would be great, and so fun.”
He looked into Jenna's eyes and saw the sincerity and affection there. She'd defy his mother in a heartbeat to see him happy. “Thank you for that, but Abigail is ill. She has a genetic condition that leaves her in pain ninety percent of the time, so she stays close to home in London. When I want to see her I go out there. Traveling would be too painful for her.”
“Oh, my God, Jacob, I’m so sorry. If you want I can give you a list of my doctors and physical therapists that are still practicing. They helped me when I was in pain all the time. I hate to think of someone else going through that.”
He studied her face intently. She was serious.
His heart squeezed a little. Jenna might not know it yet, but he was keeping her. “Thank you. I wish I could say she has the best. She does, but I won't turn down any avenue that helps her stay pain-free for as long as possible.”
She nodded. “I wish I'd known you had a sister. I would have called her and figured out how to handle you much sooner.”
He laughed. “I would love to say she wouldn't have sold me out like that, but she absolutely would. She likes to see me get as good as I give.”
“Noted. You don’t have any other half-siblings or mistresses lying around I should know about, right?” Her gaze snapped to his and she tried to get up. “Uh, not that this is something...you know...with a future in it. Or that I’m actually asking you about your love life. I just…I was trying to be funny. The mistress thing, it just slipped out.”
He let her stumble over her words for another moment before he stopped her. “Jenna, I’m sort of going without a road map here, but I know I like you. You’re the only person who doesn't seem to want anything from me other than advice on clothes and some simple organization tips. I'm not just racking up notches for my bedpost. That’s not me. Never has been.”
She made another move to get up and he held her still. “I know. Of course. I just know I’m not really your type and I—”
He kissed her, sliding his hand up into her hair and angling her head so he could kiss her deeper. His cock strained against his pants and he groaned. When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against hers. “We should forget anything I said about my type.”
Her smile was slow as she bit her bottom lip. “Done. So why don't you show me what was so urgent when you pulled me in here. It must have been really important.”
She reached for him, stroking him through his pants and his eyes crossed.
“Yes. Important.”
Mine, the phrase repeated in his head. For now. Don't forget she still has a thing for Hawke.
He tightened his hands in her hair as he kissed her again. All he needed to do was convince her she wanted to stay here in his arms and not anywhere else.
15
Jacob hadn’t exactly denied having a mistress, and although she’d said she wasn’t purposely asking about his love life, she absolutely had been. On the other hand, he hadn’t seemed like he was hiding a mistress—or an ex- and kid—either.
Jenna hurried through the hotel’s main lobby, pulling her trench coat tighter. The weatherman predicted clear skies for the evening but it had been raining most of the day. People filed in and out of the gambling areas off to her right and left. She wasn’t a gambler, had better things to do with her money, but she understood the allure. The lights, the atmosphere, the possibility of scoring a win.
Give me a pinball machine any day. She still had one in her apartment. Though she hadn’t played it in a long time.
I wonder if Jacob likes pinball? Maybe she’d see if he wanted to play with her when they got back to San Diego.
The image of him lifting her up on top, spreading her legs, and going down on her suddenly filled her head. Gives a whole new meaning to playing with me.
Her cheeks heated and she grinned, dodging a couple of bluehairs in her way.
A wedding party was at the craps table, using special Swinton gambling chips to play. The Swinton Hotel was a destination-wedding hotspot, hence the extensive renovation it was undergoing in the courtyard and banquet room. The chips the bride and groom were betting with had their picture in the center.
Jenna smiled as the bride, still wearing her veil, chucked a chip at the groom. He feigned mock indignation, then tossed one back at her. He leaned over and whispered something in her ear that made her slap his arm and blush.
What would it be like to be so in love? To marry and have a dream honeymoon? Jenna had spent her later teens pouring over bridal magazines and pinning pictures of beautiful honeymoon destinations to a corkboard in her room. During her college years, the dreams of weddings, honeymoons, and happily-ever-after had taken a backseat to reality.
So consumed with her voyeurism, she nearly missed hearing her name called out.
“Jenna! Jenna McIntyre!”
She glanced over her shoulder, flinched, and picked up her pace. Crap, it was the press. Keeping her head down, she darted for the front entrance of glass windows and revolving doors.
…And came to a full stop when Hawke Thorn came walking through the one she was headed for. A cool grin slid across his face as he stalked toward her, holding out his hands. “There’s my girl,” he said, and the press went crazy.
The sight of him usually sent a thrill up her spine. Now, it caused anger to erupt in her stomach as more paparazzi crowded in behind him. “Where’s my—” she started.
“Kiss?” He grabbed her hands. “Right here, babe.”
She dodged his lips just in the nick of time and jerked her hands out of his. “Your bank is still holding up my funds.”
Hawke took hold of her elbow and steered her toward the gambling tables. “Relax already. I told you I’d get everything worked out. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” He leaned in and murmured. “Work it for the cameras, J. Show your big daddy some love.”
He reeked of alcohol again. She wrenched free of his grasp. “Are you serious right now?”
He chuckled and tweaked her chin. “You’re way too uptight. It’s Vegas, babe. Let’s have some fun.”
“I’m not your 'babe’.” She hoped the cameras were picking up her words, but the loud commotion of the slot machines and piped-in music made it hard for her to hear herself. She raised her voice. “I want my money for the kids. Today.”
He flashed his white teeth at the cameras. “Hawke Thorn always delivers, right fellows?”
The paparazzi chuckled along with him. “Right!” one of them shouted back. People at the slots were looking their way. A couple had their cell phones out, recording him.
Ugh! A week ago, those words would have made her swoon. Now they sounded as fake as the rest of this charade. “Take your hands off of me.”
“Mr. Thorn! Mr. Thorn!” A gaggle of older ladies in matching pink shirts swarmed in, sparing her further embarrassment by sucking up Hawke like zombies after brains. They crowded around him, pushing her out of the way.
Hawke started signing autographs and taking selfies with them while Jenna quietly slunk away. Tomorrow she was setting up another face-to-face with Hawke’s bank manager.
“Oh, excuse me,” one of the paps said after he bumped into her nearly knocking her sideways. He grabbed her arm to keep her from crashing into a showgirl carrying a tray of champagne and Jenna once more had to snug her trench coat belts that had come loose when they’d collided. “You really don’t like him, do you?”
Keep your mouth shut. No comment. No comment. No comment. “No, I really don’t.”
“He’s an ass,” the man agreed, going back to scrolling through the shots on his camera. “Have a nice day, Ms. McIntyre.”
A minute later, Jenna pressed her forehead to the cool glass of cab window. She’d been on her way to Ruth’s place to pick up Jacob’s lost money clip when Hawke interrupted her.
Thank goodness she’d escaped that madness. Unfortunately, she feared she was no closer to getting her money from him.
Think of Jacob.
A couple of deep breaths and a mental replay of ‘working’ at his desk and she was calm again.
She thought of his sister, Abigail, and this Ruth woman she was going to spy on. He had a lot of secrets. She just hoped none came back to bite her in the ass.
He was so casual about everything. If she’d lost her money clip, she would have been combing the hotel room in a mad panic to find it. Jacob hadn’t even noticed his was gone.
Of course, she didn’t use a money clip, but she’d misplaced her wallet a few times. She’d never had money to throw away. Had never been so casual about it.
I don’t belong in his world.
But she wanted to be there. Not just for the lessons he was teaching her. Not just for the sex.
Although the sex was definitely a bonus.
The lovemaking had been phenomenal. She already hated leaving him behind for this errand; being away from him was torture. He’d been called to look at a problem with the hotel’s remodel job and she’d lied and said she was meeting with a potential new donor at their home. They’d agreed to meet up again after both were through with their responsibilities.
The lush, commercial landscape gave way to desert. Ruth lived outside the city limits, and the farther the taxi went, the worse the living conditions grew.
“I know you, don’t I?” the cabbie asked, stealing a peek at Jenna in the backseat. His face spoke of too many hours in the sun. His chubby body hadn’t seen the inside of a gym in years. “You’re that do-gooder gal Hawke Thorn is boinking.”
Nice. “He’s not 'boinking' me, as you so elegantly put it. We’re working together to help disabled kids through the 3 Wishes Foundation.” And he’s scum.
The cab driver winked at her. “Sure, sure. He’s a real Samaritan. How come you’re staying at the Swinton Hotel instead of the Venetian where Hawke is?”
Why was he even in town? Did he have a show? And if he was staying at the Venetian, why had he come to the Swinton to gamble?
It was staged. Just like everything else with him.
“I told you,” she said to the cabbie. “We’re business associates, that’s all.”
“Business associates, right. Is that what they call it these days?”
Jenna ignored him, sending a text to Alex and Van to tell them she was doing well and her new project was underway. She hadn’t spoken to either of them in days, she’d been so swept up in this whirlwind with Jacob. Her parents either. It had felt good to let herself escape from her usual roles for a bit. To not be in a constant state of panic, putting out fires and troubleshooting every little thing.
A few minutes later, the cab pulled onto a street of one-story bungalows. Ruth’s house was on the right.
A sad little house with a young boy playing basketball at a net-less hoop out front greeted her.
He stopped bouncing the ball and watched Jenna get out of the taxi. A dog sat watching him.
“This will only take a minute,” she told the driver. No way was she getting stranded in the freakin’ desert again and having to call Jacob to save her. “Please wait.”
“Can you get me tickets to see Hawke when he performs at the Venetian next month? My kid is head over heels for him.”
She’d get right on that. “Sure.”
“Take your time, then, honey.” He waved her off, lowering his ball cap.
“Who are you?” the kid asked as Jenna approached. She searched his features for any resemblance to Jacob. Found none. The dog wagged its tail at her.
“I’m here to pick up a money clip Mr. Swinton left behind yesterday.”
“Jacob brought me some tickets to a car race. I want to be a racer car driver when I grow up. Do you like racing?” The boy didn’t wait for her to answer. He shot the ball into the naked hoop. “My mom’s inside.”
Jenna approached the door and raised her hand to knock. It flew open and a woman in her early forties stood there, a smile on her face as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “You must be Jacob’s assistant. Come in, come in.” She said out the door, “Calen? Don’t forget to the feed the dog. He needs a brushing, too.”
Although the outside of the house was rundown, the inside was neat and clean. Ruth showed her into the living room and motioned to a chair. “Won’t you sit down for a minute? I have fresh iced tea. Can I get you a glass?”
“No, really, I can’t stay, but thank you.” A framed photograph of Jacob and the boy sat on a table behind the couch. “I have to get back to work.”
“Of course,” Ruth said. “The money clip is in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”
Jenna studied the picture of Jacob and the boy, Calen, Ruth had called him. They both wore Yankees baseball caps and Calen was holding a hotdog as he cheesed it up for the camera at Yankee Stadium.
“That was taken last summer.” Ruth returned. “Calen had this dream to see all the major baseball parks in the country. Jacob’s been taking him to a few each season when Calen feels up to it, and they finished the last one this year. Next, they plan to visit all the major racecar venues. After that I think it’s hockey. Jacob has been a real blessing to our family and so many others like us.”
…when Calen feels up to it.
…so many others like us.
A chill swept down Jenna’s spine. How many times had she heard similar words come out of her mother’s mouth? When Jenna feels up to it. So many other families like ours.
What was up with Calen?
She had to word this carefully. Any assistant of Jacob’s would surely know what was going on. “Calen seems to be having a good day. He’s pretty good at sinking a ball.”
Ruth smiled wide. “He’s having a good month. I can hardly believe it, but the new prosthetic is working. Thank goodness for Jacob and his resources. You don’t know how much it means to me so see my baby going to school, playing ball, happy, and not in the hospital. He’s even talking about girls, God forbid!”
“That’s good news.”
“You know, you look familiar to me. Have you worked for Jacob long?”
“No, not long.” She needed to change the subject. “Jacob is good with kids.”
“Good? He’s amazing. The kids love him, the parents love him. We all feel like he’s part of our family.” She handed Jenna the money clip. “The annual Swinton camping trip is coming up. Will we see you there?”
“Camping trip?”
Ruth’s eyes narrowed slightly. �
��You don’t know about the camping trip?”
“Of course, I know about it…sort of. Well, I’m new and all.”
A beat went by. Ruth’s gaze intensified. “You’re not Jacob’s assistant, are you?”
Busted. “Actually, I’m the president of the 3 Wishes Foundation. You may have heard of us.”
“Oh, that’s where I know you from. Jenna McIntyre. Of course. You and Hawke Thorn are…friends.”
“Not friends. He’s up for Donor of the Year, as is Jacob. I didn’t mean to mislead you. I’m doing some behind the scenes digging to make sure the best man wins. Plus, Jacob is on my board and helping with the upcoming dinner. We’re working together to make the dinner very special for everyone.”
“I don’t know Mr. Thorn, but I can certainly tell you more about Jacob if you’d like.”
Yes, please. Just thinking about him made her pulse do cartwheels. His lessons hadn’t stopped with her clothes, shoes, and organizational skills. The things he was teaching her in bed, the shower, at his desk of all places…
Jenna’s body flushed. Jacob was her own personal donor of the year. If only he’d stick around, stay on her board. Long term. Years.
Forever.
Conflict of interest anyone?
Screw that. The two of them made an awesome team. They each had their own businesses, yet when they worked together on a project, like the current one for the donor dinner, it all came together efficiently and within budget. With Jacob by her side she felt excited about each new challenge, not weighed down. She couldn’t wait to get up every morning and tackle the day.
Tackling him was fun, too. “I would very much like to hear more about Jacob. He’s been instrumental in helping 3 Wishes meet its goals of providing services to more children and their families.”
Ruth winked at her. “I could write a book about Jacob, but I promise I won’t take too much of your time. How about that iced tea?”
“That would be wonderful,” Jenna said. “Would you mind if I took a glass to my cab driver, too? It’s warm out this afternoon and he’s being good enough to wait for me.”