Chapter 35

Inside the penthouse, Vince gave a humorless laugh. "At least."

I let out a long breath. "Wow."

"Yeah," he said. "It really ticked me off too."

"Really?" I said. "I didn't notice."

He gave me a sheepish grin. "Right. Well, the thing is, I worked my ass off to get that deal. And here, it's gone–" He gave a quick snap of his fingers. "–just like that. I'm not one to lose my cool, but, eh, what can I say? It happens."

In spite of myself, I felt a tiny tug of sympathy. "So there's no chance of working it out?" I asked. "I mean, you probably had an official contract or something, right?"

"Not yet," Vince said. "We were set to sign next week."

"Oh. I’m sorry to hear that." And for some reason, I meant it too. If someone cost me that much money, I'd definitely go for the silverware.

I glanced toward the balcony. Through the glass doors, I saw Bianca talking into her phone, looking anything but happy. Still, something made me lower my voice when I turned back to Vince and asked, "So, have you known Jake long?"

"You could say that," Vince said. "Funny, we used to be friends."

I laughed. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not kidding," he said.

My laugher faded as I studied his face. "Really?" I said.

He gave a half-shrug. "Friendly enough, anyway."

"But you're not anymore?"

"Hard to be friends with someone who costs you that much money."

I winced. I could see his point. "So," I said, "you were friends until today?"

"Nah. Not today. A few months ago, we had a falling out."

"Over what?" I asked.

"The truth?" he said, looking slightly embarrassed. "A girl."

For some reason, this wasn't the answer I wanted to hear. "Oh."

"But forget that," he said. "So, about my apology." He grinned. "Do you accept? Or do I have to beg?"

I looked over at him. Somehow, he didn't look the begging type. "Would you?" I asked.

His gaze met mine. "Wanna try me?"

I couldn’t help but return his smile. "I almost feel like it would be rude not to."

"Good," he said, "because I'll tell you a secret." He motioned me closer. When I moved forward only a fraction, he said in a low, oddly intoxicating voice, "because I hate to beg."

I glanced down at my empty hands. Suddenly, I wished I had a drink or something, anything to take the edge off. I thought about Jake. Would he be gone all night? And when he returned, would he be alone? Or with a guest?

"So," Vince asked, "are you and Jake just friends, or…" He met my gaze. "—something more?"

The question hung in the air. What was I to Jake? That kiss had felt so achingly real. But the whole thing had been a shame, a ruse, a lie. I was an idiot, and Jake was, well Jake.

Meeting Vince's gaze, I heard myself say, "I guess you'd call us old friends."

Vince gave a slow nod. "Good to know."

Behind me, I heard the balcony doors open. I turned to see Bianca stalk back inside. She looked at Vince and said, "Come on. Let's get out of here."

"What about your things?" he asked.

She turned to give me a dirty look. "I guess I'll have to get them tomorrow."

I couldn't help it. I felt myself smile.

"You don't have to look so smug," she said.

"Oh come on," I said. "You had to know he wouldn’t want you rummaging around here when he's gone. I mean, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out."

"I wasn't going to 'rummage' anything of his," she said. "I was going to rummage mine."

I couldn’t help but wonder, what kind of stuff did she mean? Visions of lingerie and sex toys popped into my brain. Maybe their relationship had been more serious than Jake had implied.

Against my better judgment, I asked, "When you talked to Jake, did he say when he'd be back?"

Her lips curved into a slow smile. "So you don't know?"

"Never mind," I said. "Forget I asked."

"Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it," she said. "Let's put it this way. He wasn't alone. So I wouldn't wait up if I were you."

Something in my stomach twisted. I'd feared as much. But then again, this was Bianca. She was probably lying. But what if she wasn't?

Still, somehow, I managed to suck it up and say, "It doesn't matter, because Jake and I are just friends."

Long after they left, that's what I kept repeating to myself over and over again. We were just friends. That's it. I had no claim on him.

I'm not sure what time it was when I crawled, half-asleep into the guest bed, but I knew it was late. Jake still hadn't returned, and after a certain point, it became pretty obvious he wasn't going to.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke, feeling parched and anxious. I sat up in bed and looked around. Moonlight was streaming in through the open blinds, and I tried to get my bearings as I pushed aside the covers.

I was still missing most of my clothes, so I had slept in panties and an oversized T-shirt that I'd found in the spare closet. Quietly, I crept out of bed and cracked open the bedroom door. I peeked around the corner and into the hall. The place looked dark and quiet, just like I'd left it.

Disappointment coursed through me. Either Jake had returned and gone straight to bed, or he was still gone. I tried to count my blessings. The silence might be unnerving, but it was a whole lot better than listening to more female screams of passion.

Unwilling to take any chances, I tiptoed toward the kitchen in search of a cold drink of water. I was just passing through the main living area when something caught my eye, a shadowed figure sitting on the sofa.

I stifled a gasp. "Jake?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's me."

I squinted into the darkness. "Why are you sitting there in the dark? Is, uh, anyone else here?"

"No."

Relief flooded through me. "So what are you doing?" I asked.

"Thinking."

"About what?"

His voice was soft in the quiet room. "You."