One Night Only

  But I hadn't seen Savannah coming. Not as a reporter, and certainly not as a lover.

  No. She wasn't a lover.

  Just someone I had sex with twice.

  Even if she didn't have any ulterior motives, that's all she'd ever be. And I still didn't believe that she was innocent in all this.

  I had to know.

  It was that thought that got me out of bed. As I showered, I thought out exactly how I was going to find the truth. I knew her magazine was legitimate, and I didn't doubt for a moment that she really had been assigned to write a story on me and a critique on the show. Which meant I didn't need to dig into that, but rather look into who she was talking to and what she'd learned about me.

  My first calls after I dressed were to the guys. I didn't think they'd be spilling any of my secrets, but I'd told them about the interview, so if Savannah had spoken with them, they probably wouldn't have completely blown her off. Except all three of them said they hadn't answered any questions for anyone about me.

  So, if she wasn't talking to them, she had to be doing some digging elsewhere. And I knew of at least one person who'd be more than willing to tell all for whatever cash offered.

  Fuck.

  I had to call my mother.

  The phone rang twice before she picked up. "Jace? Sweetie?"

  I closed my eyes and mentally cursed Savannah for one more thing to make my day suck. "Hi, Mom."

  "I haven't heard from you in ages, sweetie. Is everything okay?"

  I almost laughed. She was the last person I'd go to if things were bad. Well, maybe next-to-last. I wasn't calling her because I needed a shoulder to cry on – that would never happen.

  "I'm doing a show." I wasn't about to do the small talk, pretend we're a real mother and son thing. "For charity, so I'm not getting any money for anything."

  "I'd love to come–"

  "That's not why I called." I closed my eyes, unable to imagine seeing her again. "There's a reporter who's writing a piece about me and I was wondering if she got in touch with you."

  Silence for several long seconds, and I could almost hear the wheels in her head turning.

  "I'm sure you don't want the past taking away from everything you're trying to accomplish."

  It didn't take a genius to know where she was going with this. In fact, considering my mother's history, an idiot would've been able to figure out what she wanted.

  "Has she talked to you or not?"

  "No." She sounded almost disappointed.

  "If she does, let me know." I gritted my teeth. "Maybe the two of us could discuss it over dinner some time."

  "That would be wonderful." The cheery note in her voice told me that she knew exactly what I'd offer her if she kept her mouth shut.

  "Thanks, Mom." I quickly continued before she could start talking again, "I have to go, but don't forget to contact me if someone calls asking questions."

  I hung up as soon as she agreed and let out a breath. As far as conversations with my mother went, that one actually hadn't been that bad. It was possible that Savannah wouldn't be able to find the woman who had given me life but little else. There'd been more than a few years where I'd gone almost eighteen months or more without knowing where she was.

  There was one other person I knew who wouldn't think twice about spilling everything she knew about me...including the fact that I went to Gilded Cage. And she was the only person I knew of who I wanted to talk to less than my mother.

  I didn't have her number in my phone, but I didn't need it. I'd dialed it often enough that my fingers still remembered the pattern, even when I wished they didn't.

  "I wondered when you'd be calling." Bianca was practically purring when she answered. "I knew you couldn't stay away."

  I was glad she couldn't see the look of distaste on my face at the thought of going back to her. No matter how pissed I was at Savannah, I wouldn't let it drive me back into Bianca's arms. I couldn't, however, handle the situation as bluntly as I wanted. I needed to keep Bianca on the phone long enough to find out what I needed to know.

  So I ignored her comments and went straight to the point. "Since you've been back, has anyone been asking questions about me? About our prior relationship?"

  I could almost hear her smile.

  "Why, Jay, have you gone and gotten yourself into trouble? I told you no good would come of your sexual...preferences. Did you beat some poor, unsuspecting girl and she didn't enjoy it?"

  As if Bianca hadn't already been involved in the life when we met. I closed my eyes and reminded myself that blowing up at Bianca would just make matters worse. "You and I both know that's not how things work." I let out a slow breath. "But that's not why I called. With this show coming up, I want all of the focus to be on the cause rather than on anything a reporter might dig up. Has anyone contacted you?"

  When she took a moment to answer, I was struck by how similar Bianca and my mother were, and how much of an idiot I'd been for dating someone so vapid and shallow.

  "There was someone in the lobby of my building yesterday who chatted me up about local artists. When I said I knew you, she seemed really interested."

  Shit.

  "What did you tell her?" I had to force the question to come out far less harshly than I wanted.

  "Nothing, of course." Bianca sounded offended, but I knew her well enough to know how much she was enjoying this. "She was bound and determined to get me to talk though, so I doubt she gave up. I wouldn't be surprised if she showed up at your studio, or even the club."

  My back stiffened. "Did you tell her about the club?"

  "I don't think so, but she was persistent. I couldn't say that she hasn't found out about it on her own. I'd watch yourself, if I were you. Or maybe just avoid the club for a while until she gets tired of trying to track you down."

  Fuck.

  I barely heard anything else Bianca said, unable to stop all of the negative emotions inside me from boiling into a fury. I shouldn't have been surprised that Savannah had used me like that. Very few people weren't out for only themselves. I thought she was different, and it was that mistake that made my hands clench.

  I wasn't going to take this quietly. Come Monday morning, I'd make sure she never fucked with me again.

  Seventeen

  Savannah

  Even though I'd taken extra time this morning to put on more make-up than I usually wore, I still arrived early at work. The bags under my eyes I'd needed to cover had been earned through a sleepless weekend that I feared would lead into a sleepless week. One more night like that and I doubted any amount of concealer would disguise how exhausted I was.

  I was already trying to figure out how to stay under Abel's radar through the day when I dropped my purse on my desk. No one else was in yet, but I could hear voices coming from the back. Since the only office back there was Abel's, I figured avoidance was the best policy...until I recognized the second voice.

  Jace.

  My heart skipped a beat. He was here.

  No.

  I shook my head. It didn't matter that he was here. He'd been a total ass to me. I didn't think I was blameless, but I definitely didn't deserve to be accused of using him for a story. Certainly not after I'd told him how much his art had meant to me.

  Bastard.

  But that didn't stop me from taking a step toward the back, toward him. Despite everything he said to me, I still craved his touch. But that was just my body. My brain knew better.

  "I mean it," Jace's voice was hard. "Don't make me call my lawyer."

  And before I could do bolt or hide, he was coming out of Abel's office, straight toward me. I knew he saw me because I was only a couple feet away, but he didn't even look my way. Only walked by without even acknowledging that I existed.

  It shouldn't have hurt to see him go like that. We weren't together. Never had been. We'd had two nights of incredible sex, and that had been one night too many. I always learned from my mistakes, so from here on out, it'd be nothing b
ut professional between the two of us. After his show, I'd never have to see or think of Jace Randall again.

  "Savannah!" Abel barked as he stuck his head out of his office. "Get your ass in here!"

  What the hell? My boss had always been a jerk, but that seemed to go above and beyond.

  Still, I went. I liked having a job that was at least in the ballpark of what I wanted to do. More to the point, I liked it until I found something better.

  Abel was sitting behind his desk, hands folded on top of his ample belly, face red. He jerked his chin toward the chair on the other side of his desk, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. The scowl on his face deepened as I sat down.

  "You're off the Randall story."

  My jaw dropped for a few seconds before I snapped it shut. I waited for him to explain, and I knew he would. Not because he'd feel like I deserved to know, but because he'd want to make sure I knew exactly what I'd done wrong.

  "I never should have given you the story to begin with, but I figured no one can screw up an art show for a locally established artist. A little online research, then go critique some pretentious 'new' art that any idiot with a bachelor's degree could write about."

  My nails dug into my palms, and I reminded myself that it wouldn't be prudent to insult my boss. Especially not when he wasn't quite finished.

  "But somehow, you managed to be unprofessional enough that Mr. Randall felt he had to come down and tell me that he wanted you to stay away from him."

  "Unprofessional?" I practically sputtered the word. Jace had the gall to call me unprofessional? What the fuck?!

  "He didn't go into any details, but you need to know that you won't be going on any assignments for a hell of a long time. You're going to be staying here. Getting coffee. Maybe, if you're lucky, I'll let you do some fact checking." Abel pointed toward the door. "Get back to your desk and send me everything you have so far. I'll take the story from here."

  Like hell he would.

  But I wasn't going to argue that now. I needed to get my shit together first. Calm down so that I didn't go off on Abel or Jace. I needed to think, figure things out logically. Cooler heads prevailed in the end, and right now, I wasn't certain that I could say anything without losing the tenuous grip I had on my self-control. Inhaling deeply, I simply stood and walked out of the office. My hands were shaking, my stomach churning. Emotions flashed through me, one right after the other, too fast for me to process. All I knew for certain was that as quickly as I'd thought my career was finally taking off, I was now just as certain that it was over.

  Eighteen

  Savannah

  Today had been about as much fun as...honestly, there were very few things I could think of that sucked as much as today had. Root canal. Pap smear. Pretty much any medical procedure. That time in eighth grade when I got my period in the middle of English and didn't realize it until Abbie Jamison started laughing. Or when I was seventeen, and Everett was looking in my room for something and found the vibrator I'd just bought but hadn't yet dared to use.

  It was too hot to walk, and I didn't feel like taking the subway, so as soon as I stepped outside, I flagged down a taxi. Fortunately, I'd managed to get out ahead of the rush and only had to wait a minute or so. As soon as I was inside the cab, I pulled out my phone and sent a group text. I needed reinforcements before I did something crazy.

  Like going straight to Jace's house and demanding to know where he got off being such a fucking jackass.

  Not a good idea. Not a good idea.

  I kept repeating that to myself as I waited for my friends to text back. I breathed a sigh of relief as first one, then the rest, responded. Everett was already home, and the girls would meet us at our favorite restaurant in a couple hours. This was why I loved them. I hadn't told them anything other than I needed them, and they said they'd be there.

  When I got home, Everett didn't try to get anything out of me, but the grim expression on his face told me that I only needed to say the word and he'd do whatever I asked.

  I changed into something nice but comfortable. Not sexy. I wasn't going out with my friends to dance and find someone to fuck. I'd never felt less like having sex than I did right now. All I wanted to do was vent to them and then let them distract me for the rest of the night. I still had to go to work tomorrow, and the day after that, which meant I needed to figure out how to deal with things, but for tonight, I needed the break.

  "You look nice," Everett said as we headed downstairs.

  "Thanks." I reached for his hand, appreciating the familiar feeling. "So do you."

  He pulled me against his side with one arm and waved down a taxi with his free hand. "Whatever you need tonight, Sav. We've got you."

  "Let me get this straight," Lorde said as she leaned forward, blue-green eyes flashing, "you suggest that the two of you reveal your identities before you have sex, but he says he wants to do it after, then blames you for not telling him who you were sooner?"

  "And then he goes to your boss and complains, getting you removed from the story," Everett finished, the muscle in his jaw popping with each word.

  "That about sums it up." I stabbed a piece of steak with my fork, then glared at it.

  "Fuck him." Lei put her hand on my arm, squeezing gently. "He deserves to get some second-rate hack writing about him and his show."

  I dropped my fork, wincing as it clattered against the plate. "It's for a great cause though. Clean drinking water." I sighed and press my fingers against my temples. "I can't really bring myself to wish for the show to crash and burn when that's what he's doing it for."

  "I can," Lei said doggedly.

  "So can I." Lorde's normally bubbly voice filled with an anger I wasn't used to seeing from her. "And I'll ask Robert to look into donating to charities that provide something similar, so you don't have to feel bad about wanting that jerk to fail."

  I gave them both a watery smile. This was exactly why I called them. I was a strong, independent person, but that didn't mean it wasn't nice to have some support once in a while. Especially when it came to dealing with the extra sensitive shit I couldn't call home about.

  I loved my parents and my brother, but there was no way in hell I'd talk to them about anything relating to sex, even the vanilla kind. They weren't naive enough to think that I wasn't having it, but we didn't talk about that sort of thing in my family. The sex talk my mom had given me when I was ten had been all flat-out biology and anatomy, and even that had embarrassed the hell out of her.

  "Maybe you should start putting in applications elsewhere," Lorde suggested. "I mean, it's not like The Heart of Art is the Times or anything."

  "I know." I dropped my face in my hands and groaned. "And it's not even that I really like the magazine, but it's one of the few art magazines still in print. It'd be nice to have that on my resumé before I go somewhere else."

  "Everything's digital now. Why fight it?" Lei reached across the table and stole a crouton off my salad. "If I could work from home in my pajamas, I'd do it."

  I nodded, but my heart wasn't in it. I knew she had a good point, and there was some appeal in working from home, but I always imagined myself working in an office where I was part of a group dedicated to bringing news to its readers in physical print that I could cut out and mail home to my parents. Like a female art critic version of Clark Kent.

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. Maybe this was life's way of telling me that I wasn't as logical and pragmatic as I liked to think. That perhaps I had a more romanticized version of how I thought my life was supposed to go than I wanted to admit.

  Dammit! I didn't want to be that person. The one who had this vision of how things were supposed to go and then freaked out when they didn't follow that plan. I was smarter than that. I didn't follow my heart. I followed my head.

  And the one time I hadn't, the one time I'd let myself hope that I could have something more than just a night or two of hot sex, I'd been reminded none too kindly that wasn't the wa
y things worked.

  "Hey, we've got your back." Everett put his hand on the back of my neck and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I'll go kick his ass if you want me to."

  I was sorely tempted to take him up on it. If anyone could take on Jace, it would be Everett. But I didn't want to risk my best friend getting hurt. I told myself that I didn't care whether or not Everett hurt Jace, but I wasn't that good of a liar.

  "No," I said reluctantly. "It's probably best for everyone if we go our separate ways."

  "I think you're right." Lorde grasped my hand. "At least New York's a huge city, so the chances of the two of you running into each other again are slim."

  I was about to agree with her, except at that moment, I heard a commotion coming from the front of the restaurant and turned to see four insanely attractive men being led to a nearby table. I recognized one as being Reb Union, a musician I really liked, and two I didn't know. The fourth, of course, was Jace.

  Fate sucked.

  "Dammit," I muttered, barely able to get the word out past the emotion clogging my throat.

  "Sav?" Lorde's fingers tightened around mine. "What's wrong?"

  It took far too much self-control not to look again as I said, "That's him. With the group that just arrived."

  "Him who?" Lei asked. Her voice took on an edge. "That asshole? Where?"

  "The group of really hot guys?" Lorde asked, her eyes wide. "With Reb Union?"

  I nodded.

  All three let out low whistles, and I couldn't blame them. Those were probably four of the best-looking men I'd ever seen, and I spent my life being friends with Everett.

  "Which one is he?" Everett's voice was harder than I'd ever heard it. "Which of those guys is he, Savannah?"