Jessie toyed with a cocktail straw, chewing it between his straight white teeth before smirking, and his dimple deepened, damn him. “I had a meeting.”
Don’t they all?
My heart sank.
They all have meetings.
Just like they have mergers.
Deadlines.
Late-night shoots.
Or my personal favorite.
Bowling.
They have bowling.
How the hell do women not see through that? Especially when the man in question doesn’t even own a pair of bowling shoes? News flash, if he’s that into the sport he’s going to actually own the gear.
It’s like saying you’re a golfer but renting your driver. Trust me, you don’t.
“What kind of meeting?” I leaned forward like I was interested in every gory detail.
“The boring kind.” Jessie’s eyes narrowed and then he pointed between me and Colin. “So, how’d this happen?”
Colin wrapped an arm around me and grinned. “She just kinda fell at my feet.”
I squirmed in my seat.
“Same old story, huh, Colin?” Jessie smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
I fought the temptation to stomp on Colin’s foot, because on one hand he was a stranger, while on the other, he did bring me alcohol.
So maybe I wouldn’t maim him after all.
“It wasn’t totally like that,” I found myself saying. “I may have tripped, and then he offered his assistance and basically demanded a date.”
“Nothing’s free in this world anymore, is it?” Jessie checked me out, slowly, like he was memorizing the freckles on my nose and exactly how many eyelashes I had. And like a freak I found it hot.
“It’s not worth it if it’s free, is it?” I said in a more serious tone than I intended.
He drummed his fingers against the table and stared me down.
“How about I go get us a round of drinks?” Colin looked between the two of us as a heavy silence fell over the table. I cleared my throat and looked at the twisted napkin in my hands while Jessie tilted his head like he was trying to figure out the complicated puzzle I’d just laid at his feet. Stalker or coincidence? Finally, Colin whistled like he wanted no part in whatever was happening and walked off.
“He’s nice.” I watched Colin make his way back to the bar, his presence commanding. I hadn’t noticed it before, but he took complete control, from helping the other bartender and laughing with customers to setting out fresh fruit and snacks, all before shaking drinks. I shouldn’t watch the way he was with a martini shaker, but it was hot. Damn hot.
“What’s his name again?”
I narrowed my eyes back at Jessie. “Very funny.”
“I think you’re lying about Colin,” Jessie whispered so close to my face that I could almost taste the whiskey on his lips.
“I think you have a really high opinion of yourself if you think I’d actually stalk you after seeing you five hours ago.” My stupid voice was breathless, like his proximity had made me lose all ability to talk like a normal human. It wasn’t fair. I wasn’t emotionally prepared for him. I slammed up my walls once again.
He shrugged and pulled away. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“The life of a celebrity. God, can you even pee by yourself, or do camera flashes just beckon your penis?”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Wow, either LA’s changed you, or you’re not as innocent as I remember.”
“Innocent?” I rolled the word around on my tongue—nope, still felt bitter, wrong, resentful. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means the last time I saw you, you couldn’t look me in the eyes without blushing, and two seconds ago you referenced my penis.” He pointed the red straw at me. “That’s what I mean.”
I frowned.
“That why you left?” It was out before I could stop it.
His expression softened.
Nope.
I hate pity.
I laughed a bit and shrugged. “Maybe I’ve grown up?” Wasn’t that the truth? Hardened myself to the world.
“That”—his eyes briefly went to my cleavage when he didn’t think I was looking. Cheating bastard—“I believe.”
“Speaking of growing up and making big life choices.” Colin was headed toward us and I needed Jessie to fall for the bait—me. As sick as it made me that he clearly wasn’t the man I remembered, I needed info for his ex. Info that would nail him to the wall or at least prove infidelity. I needed something.
Anything.
“You seeing anyone?” I threw the question at him, gauged his physical response, noted every expression his face went through. Anger, resentment, sadness, and finally, indifference. Interesting.
“No. Not really.”
“Not really?” I repeated. “You either are or you aren’t.”
“It’s complicated.”
“It’s called adulting.”
He leaned in. “You should check your phone.”
My stomach sank at his sudden subject change. Classic cheater move.
“Why?” I hated how part of me wanted to leap across the table, even though I knew what he represented. “Did you send me a cat video?”
He stood.
Shit.
I’d struck out.
Great, just great, the dress works on the snake charmer but not on a guy cheating on his wife?
I kicked my heels against the chair.
“I have somewhere to be.” He put a hand on my shoulder then faced Colin, his body completely blocking mine as his fingers slid down my shoulder, hooked in the strap of my bra, and gave a little snap before caressing my skin with his knuckles the way he used to.
I jerked in response.
My body heated.
Bastard.
I closed my eyes.
Hate him, hate him, hate him.
I just needed to chant it about a dozen more times.
“See ya, Colin.”
He didn’t turn around and say good-bye to me.
Colin took one look at my flushed face, slid the drink across the table, and winked. “I like bedtime stories.”
“Do I look like your nanny?” I grabbed one of the drinks.
“Tell you what, drinks are on the house, but I want to know about that.” He pointed behind him at Jessie’s retreating form. “And since I’m on break, I want you to start at the beginning, don’t leave anything out.”
“You’re a complete stranger and apparently his best friend. Why would I even stay?”
He eyed the alcohol, and then his gaze narrowed. “Because something tells me you and I are about to become best friends too.”
I snorted. “Does this work on all women?”
“I’m not sure, I’ve never had to lure my women with alcohol. I own the hotel, remember?”
“You have a snake tattoo,” I observed, as if that was a valid reason he’d have to lure someone with alcohol.
“I was eighteen, and I thought I wanted to join a motorcycle gang, go easy on me, now.” He nodded at the whiskey. “Talk.”
An hour went by.
Then two.
Many drinks were consumed during my conversation with Colin.
And by the time I was in an Uber on the way home, I was even more confused about the Jessie I was investigating versus the one Colin said donated time at a homeless shelter.
“Ugh.” I smacked my hand against my forehead and grabbed my phone.
Three texts from Jessie.
Jessie: It was good seeing you.
Jessie: Even if you are a stalker.
Jessie: A bad stalker, mind you . . .
And then he sent me a cheesy cat video.
I smiled.
“So that went well!” Isla’s voice sounded in my ear.
“Son of a bitch!” I yelled. “You’re still there?”
The Uber driver eyed me warily through the mirror. Yeah, buddy, I’m talking to myself, move along,
nothing to see here.
“Of course! It was better than Scandal! I even grabbed wine and popcorn. Colin sounds hot, and Jessie, our client’s husband? You have a history with our guy? I mean what the hell, Blaire! We can’t take her on as a client.”
“Hell yes, we can.” I gritted my teeth.
Uber driver looked ready to drop me off at the nearest psych hospital.
“Isla, it’s a lot of money and it’s our job to expose cheaters for what they are! So yes, I have a history with Jessie. But this is business, not personal.”
My mind flashed to the way his fingers felt against my skin.
His one finger lifting my bra strap.
The snap that sent hypnotic shivers all the way to my toes.
I gulped. “It’s not personal. It’s not.”
It was.
It became personal the minute he touched me.
And set my body on fire.
Chapter Six
COLIN
I don’t know how long I stared at the door.
She’d left minutes ago.
It felt like seconds.
I’d gotten every dirty detail and more. It was a gift. Probably why I could have lived life as a bartender and therapist and made more than my entire empire. I knew it was my charm, I was easy to talk to, I fucking listened when other idiots just liked to hear their own voices.
I’d been tempted to ply her with more alcohol to loosen her up a bit, because her tone got more and more aggressive as she told me her life story.
Jessie.
The ex-husband.
I was good at pretending to care, especially when I really didn’t give a shit.
But in those few hours.
With Blaire.
I’d genuinely wanted to know what the hell Jessie had been thinking to not even ask her to come with him? To barely stay in touch? He must have been high, or just an idiot.
And yet a part of me refused to believe either choice because he was my best friend, but I knew when it came to women, his compass seemed to full-on break like he couldn’t see bullshit and saw only sunshine.
I scowled into my drink.
“Need anything else, boss man?” Sara walked over and gave me a knowing look. She’d been after me since I hired her, since she learned of my reputation, but she seriously wouldn’t take a hint about me not sleeping around where I work.
“Nope,” I said in a clipped tone. “I’m headed upstairs.”
Her face lit up.
“Wasn’t an invitation,” I said tightly. She blinked innocently for a few seconds and then walked off.
I wiped my face with my hands and stood.
It didn’t matter.
Blaire was interesting.
But her eyes had gone to Jessie’s every single time I drew the attention away from him. For once I was invisible, and I never realized how much it stung to feel that crackle of attraction and know it was one-sided.
“Cheers,” I grumbled and tilted back the rest of my drink. Damn it, Jessie. “Bastard.”
Chapter Seven
BLAIRE
I tipped my Uber driver. Something told me that if I didn’t, he was going to give me a crap review and nobody would pick me up anymore, and I hated walking to the wine shop when it was hot out. Even though it was an easy walk.
A girl had her standards, after all.
My heels wobbled once I set my feet on the sidewalk outside my one-bedroom apartment.
Isla had gone to bed after I’d provided her enough entertainment for a decade, and I was still clutching my cell like it was about to light up with another Jessie text.
Jessie: Did you stay with Colin?
Part of me—the totally sane part—knew I was being a lunatic. He wasn’t for me, and clearly he was putting his business where it didn’t belong, and my job—the one I loved, the one I wanted to keep—while it dealt me a shitty hand, meant that I couldn’t mess up.
No matter how pretty his eyes were.
Or his smile.
I shivered, and nearly careened into a bike messenger in an effort to make it to the door without swooning out of my very expensive heels.
Pathetic. I was pathetic.
Excited over a damn cat video, the lingering touch of his fingers, and nothing to prove that he was a cheating asshole.
I quickly texted back.
Me: Home, and Colin’s nice.
There, that sounded normal.
By the time I made it into my apartment, locked all seven locks, and kicked off my shoes, it was time for my Friday night phone call from the one and only Ian Hunter.
Multimillionaire pain-in-my-ass brother.
Ex-NFL football star.
The sole reason for my obsession with Jessie in the first place was my perfect brother, Ian Hunter. And I do mean perfect.
“Hey.” I plopped onto the couch. “What’s up?”
Ian sighed. “Tell me you don’t have the cat shirt on again.”
I proudly looked down at my hot-as-hell dress. “I just took off Prada heels, so that would be a no.”
The line went dead.
“Ian?”
“Sorry, did you say Prada? As in you have it on your body?”
“Well”—I frowned at the shoes—“no, they were really high and I just got home, but I did manage to wear them all night without getting stuck in the street or breaking a heel, so I count it as a successful night.”
“Aw, Blaire, you got dressed up and went out, by yourself?”
I almost growled into the phone.
“I’m so proud of you. I think it’s good to move on from Jason and—”
“I was working,” I admitted in a panic. I didn’t want to hear what else he had to say, heaviness weighed on my heart as I thought of tiny hands and giggles that always transported me to my dark past. “But I did meet someone. He has a snake tattoo, seems promising.” I tried a subject change.
“He an actor?”
I shook my head no. “Doesn’t even live in his parents’ basement. Shocking, really.”
“I’ll say,” Ian chuckled. “I’m glad you were out tonight, even if it was with a dude who sounds like he should be in prison.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” I teased.
Another sigh.
How many sighs was he going to give me?
“Seriously”—he cleared his throat—“you sure you don’t want to come back to Seattle?”
I scowled. “And ruin your perfect family?” He and Blake were a match made in heaven, and he had developed one of the hottest dating apps in the world, which Facebook bought for an ungodly amount that I still had trouble choking down.
Little brother was famous.
And I was getting cat texts and rummaging through sewers.
How was that fair again?
“I’m good. I love my job.” I did. I really did. I’d helped save countless men and women from horrible situations, and I truly felt like I was making a difference in the world. Plus my job now meant I got to stalk Jessie Beckett. I grinned at that. “And I just got a promising new client.” I left out the client’s husband part.
Ian laughed. “Yeah, unlucky bastard, you gonna cut his dick off first this time then expose him for his cheating ways?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Riiight.” He drew out the word. “I just wanted to check in, it’s the weekend and this is the first night you’ve been out past nine. I’m glad.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tears welled in my eyes. Ian was too good to me. Wanting to take care of me when I should be the one taking care of him. But ever since Jason. Ever since everything went down with his mistress’s baby, my best friend . . . I shook my head. It was the one thing I kept to myself. I never shared it with Isla, and when Colin kept pushing, trying to figure out why I’d been so upset about my divorce, I put my memories on lockdown. “I’m fine, I swear.”
I wasn’t fine.
And part of me wondered if I would ever believe the words coming out of my mouth, the one
s I told people and wished were true.
But I was surviving, even if that meant I had bouts of loneliness, anger, regret, and sadness. I was doing the best I could do.
Sometimes I hated the woman staring back at me from the mirror, the one who constantly told herself she wouldn’t ever be good enough, and then I would tell that woman to stop being ridiculous and put on lip gloss.
“Blaire?” Ian must have been talking. “Did I lose you?”
“Sorry, I spaced out for a minute.” I wiped the tears from my cheeks and focused on the conversation.
“It’s okay, I’m used to it. As I was saying, remember Jessie?”
I gripped the phone so hard I swear I heard a little crack. “Who?”
I cringed inwardly.
“Jessie Beckett? NFL god? People’s most handsome—”
“Ohhhhh!” I interrupted dumbly. “That, that Jessie, I just, I know so many celebrities it’s hard to remember.” I rolled my eyes and pressed a hand to my forehead.
“You dated him for over three weeks and sobbed when he was traded to Pittsburgh. I found you under six cartons of ice cream,” he said.
“It was more like three and a half weeks,” I corrected, afraid he was going to say something about how quickly I dated and married Jason after that.
You were wearing black on our first date.
Jessie’s words came back to haunt me.
“What about him?” I kept my voice light and sounded bored even though my heart was racing, and I was pretty sure I was seeing black spots in front of my eyes.
God, why now? Why was he back in my life now? When I was just beginning to feel like I was moving on from the disaster of my past?
“He’s back in LA and I thought it might be cool for you guys to connect. ESPN’s hosting a party for past and present NFL players to celebrate the launch of a new charity, and I thought you could use my invite. You know I can’t leave Blake since she’s pregnant again. Might cheer you up a bit?”
I very unsuccessfully held in my giddiness by covering the phone with my hand and doing a giant Thank you, God fist pump. Focus on the stalking, focus on the prize, focus on the money. Focus. “Oh, I don’t know.” Man, I was killing it with that bored-sounding voice! “I’ve got a lot of work.”