Chapter Ten

If she'd thought her co-op mates' teasing about her gallery show was bad, their reaction to Brice's statement was a whole new level of torture. When she'd arrived home that night after the most amazing date of her life, the house had been in an uproar. Apparently, word had broken in the gossip blogs long before any local newscast would recap the Afterschool Program's new playground.

"Oh. My. GOD!" Jessica, a chubby blond working on an MA in Comparative Lit, nearly squealed when she saw Janna heading toward the stairs. Janna was still in a fog of bliss, reliving the memory of Brice's kisses, while at the same time simmering with frustration. She had expected Brice to claim his prize immediately, and her body hummed with desire, wishing he hadn't left her so easily with the close of the limo's door.

Jessica's exclamation broke the fog long enough for her to turn her head toward the large common room. Three of the co-op's girls were on the couch, bent over the laptop that rested on Chelsea's lap. Jessica jumped up and ran pell-mell toward Janna, grabbing her arm in an iron grip and pulling her into the room. "He called you his girlfriend! Can you believe it?"

Not really, Janna thought, still in a daze. "What's going on?"

"You're all over the blogs. You and Brice Masterson. He's so hot!"

Chelsea let out a snort, and Shelby elbowed her in the ribs. "Congratulations, Janna," Shelby said, her southern twang soft, matching her soulful brown eyes, hidden behind square glasses. Shelby was in Communication Disorders, and Janna thought her well-suited to her chosen career path. Her voice was soothing, like a warm blanket, sure to relax the stutter of even the most speech-impaired person.

"Thanks," Janna replied in a near whisper. "I still can't believe he said that."

"Me neither," Chelsea piped up. She was very pretty, with a refined face and a subdued bob to her locks which were such a light red that the color bordered on pink. Her features were schooled into an impassive mask, but from the tone of her voice, it was obvious she was anything but indifferent.

"Shut up, Chelsea," Shelby said.

Jessica clicked her tongue and pulled Janna down onto the couch next to her. "She's just jealous."

"Whatever," Chelsea grumbled, making Shelby burst out laughing. The sound startled Norman, causing the black and white cat to leap from her lap and scurry out of the room.

"It's true. Brice Masterson is ten times hotter than her beau Quincy. Richer too, despite Quincy's smug superiority. He's a way better catch."

"I don't have to listen to this," Chelsea said, squirming out of her seat and slamming the lid down on the laptop hard enough for Janna to wonder if the screen had shattered. "Congrats, Janna," she nearly snarled. "Good luck keeping his attention focused on you. I give it a week, tops." With that, she stalked into the kitchen and out of sight.

Janna let out a huge exhale. It hurt to hear someone else give voice to your biggest fear. Although Jessica and Shelby did their best to make her forget the unkind comment, it lingered long into the night as she stared at the ceiling and waited for sleep to descend.

The day played out in her mind. The date was...there were no words to describe it. Every moment had been tailored to her interests. And the best part: Brice had done it all himself. With no help from his assistant. That had impressed her most of all. All that work and dedication, solely to ensure that she had a tremendous time.

It was sweet, and in the limo, on the way home, she'd realized that she couldn't compartmentalize her feelings for Brice, no matter how much she wanted to. From the beginning, she'd been sure it was just a fling, temporary insanity on her part, and blind lust on his. But suffused with a warm glow in the aftermath of the date, she thought she could be wrong, that maybe Brice had a different definition of "fling" than she did. For the length of time, it took to reach the co-op from the bar she'd believed that maybe it was okay to hope, and maybe she didn't have to push away the deeper feelings she had for the handsome millionaire.

But Chelsea's words were followed by an evening of scouring over gossip sites and making awkward conversation with curious co-op members. Apparently, Chelsea wasn't the only one who doubted the seriousness of Brice's proclamation. And as the gossipmonger's words piled up, Janna's doubts climbed and the small flare of hope was smothered. Finally, Shelby had pulled Janna away from the computer and out onto the co-op's covered porch.

The rain was falling gently in the dark night, and Janna suddenly realized it was late. Really late.

"How are you feeling?" Shelby asked softly.

"Not sure." Janna rubbed cold hands down even colder arms. "Earlier tonight I thought I...we would... Now I don't know."

"You know all this media stuff is crazier than a shithouse rat. You can't let this trash get to you. If you had a good time today, then don't let those no-account busybodies ruin it for you. Besides, that Brice Masterson is hotter than a billy goat in a pepper patch. I saw him all sweaty building that playground, muscles bulging. If you aren't interested, maybe I could show him a little southern hospitality."

Janna burst out laughing. Shelby may have had a warped sense of humor, but she had a beautiful heart. Her reassurances had comforted Janna through her shower and getting ready for bed, but now she lay there, restless, confused. The hours ticked away and still her mind revolved, refusing to be quiet. It had always been like this when she was facing a decision that could have lasting consequences. Could she really allow that spark of hope to flame again? Or should she harden her heart right now, keeping herself safe but losing her chance at Brice and happily ever after?

It was a pair of green eyes that decided it for her. Or better yet, the depth of emotion she remembered in those eyes. It was time to take a chance.