Chapter Twelve

  Talk about disaster. Jaya breathed a sigh of relief as she let herself into her apartment. The whole damn day was a disaster. Her little jaunt north had not turned out the way she’d expected. After Alec had finished with Adele, they rode back to San Diego in relative silence. She’d been too tired to hold up her end of any conversation.

  If she could take an eraser to the last week of her life, she would. Well, okay, not the entire week. Regardless of everything, she’d still had the best sex of her life, and that was nothing to sneeze at. She would still be shut in under her duvet cover with her ice cream if Micah and Ricca had left her to her own devices.

  Jaya slipped off the dazzling stilettos and told herself she didn't feel suddenly depressed. She’d had a good opportunity today. One she hadn’t planned. One she’d probably blown, but still, a shot was a shot. It was better than what she’d accomplished in the last three days.  

  Pressing the message light on her answering machine, she padded into the kitchen to prepare a hot chocolate.

  “Hey, Jai, it's Micha. Give me a call when you’re back.”

  Of course—there was no way she could vanish with some guy and not have her friends calling for deets.

  Another message beep, and her father’s deep baritone filled the room. “Jaya, I got your message. I can tell you, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn't stop you from getting a job. I'm not sure why you think I’d do that or why you think I have time for such machinations. You should call your sister.”

  When the message cut off, the tightness in her chest was her only clue that she'd been holding her breath. Letting it out slowly, she decided to ignore her father's message. She wasn’t in the mood for a fight. Only he could get her this worked up. Only he could make her feel lower than low. She needed to talk to Micha.

  Dialing quickly, she sipped her hot chocolate and closed her eyes in bliss as she listened to the ringing. Micha's soft “Hi, Jai,” had her frowning.

  “What's the matter?”

  “I’m unwinding from my day with a large glass of wine. And by glass, I mean bottle.  You’re welcome to join.  You’re the one who went off grid today, and you’re asking me what’s wrong?”

  “Off grid? What are you talking about?”

  “Ricca and I have been calling all day to get the scoop on your man friend, and your damn phone’s off.”

  “Sorry, Alec took me for an impromptu interview in LA.”

  “Alec, huh? Please God, tell me he was good.”

  Jaya felt her skin heat as she remembered the previous night. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’d better spill the goods.”

  “Fine, we have a deal.  Did you want—” A knock at the door had her getting off the phone. “Hey, why don’t I come over in five, and I can give you a brief run down. I’m too keyed up to sit around here.”

  Hanging up with Micha, she swung open the door.

  “Dad, what are you doing here?” He never came over to her place. Not even when she'd moved in. He hadn't been part of the housewarming party. She'd never thought he even knew where she lived.

  “You didn't return my call, so I thought I'd come to see you.”

  Blinking, she clamped her mouth shut to keep from asking why he'd bothered. “I'm sorry, I just got back from LA. I haven’t had a chance to even listen to my messages yet.” She tried not to wince at the lie.  “Can we do this later? I’m on my way out the door. It’s sort of an emergency.”

  Pierre rolled his eyes. “Honestly Jaya a party isn’t an emergency.”

  She took several breaths to calm herself. “I’m not going to a party.”

  He frowned as he eyed her shoes and all their glittery goodness. “Then where are you going?”

  “I need to see a friend. Can this wait ‘til the morning? I’ll come by the office.” She tried to push past him, but he wouldn't let her pass.

  “You can't take fifteen minutes to even talk to your father?”

  Even before she spoke, she could see the thin thread she’d wound around her temper unravel. “You mean like the fifteen minutes you gave me before you fired me?”

  “Stop being childish. I fired you for your own good. You have a lot to learn about clients and their needs.”

  “You know, you keep saying that and it's weird. Because last I heard, my pitch got you that client. And calling around to make sure I can’t get another job is really low, Dad.”

  He pushed his way in to her apartment. “Why would you think I'd stop you from getting another job? I don’t have time for that kind of pettiness.”

  “Of all the people I've called and emailed, not a single one will even attempt to interview me for a job. Clearly they’ve had the Pierre Trudeaux treatment. I'm good at my job and you know it.  My reputation precedes me, but all of a sudden, I can’t get a call back. What am I supposed to think?”

  “I don’t know why no one will grant you an interview. Perhaps I can make a call—”

  “Are you kidding me? You fire me, then tell me I had it coming. But now you'll do me the favor of getting me a job somewhere else.  Spare me the favors. I’m going now.  The door self-locks so go ahead and show yourself out.” Shoving past him, she let herself out of the apartment. She didn’t look back as the door clicked softly behind her.