Authors: Catherine Bybee
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary Women, #Family Life, #Contemporary, #Fiction
“Really, I don’t see a ring.”
“Which is part of his problem. He’s a player.”
Jessie diverted her gaze. “I don’t need that.”
“Third table down from the buffet table. Dark hair, a little thick around the middle.” Jack moved to the side so she could see whom he was talking about.
Thick?
“At least he couldn’t be my dad, but please, Jack. He looks like a gangster.” Boy did he, short, calorically challenged, and with too much flashy jewelry.
“He probably is. He has what we call ‘family money.’ I don’t think he’s worked a day in his life.”
“A bum with deep pockets,” Jessie said.
“Right.”
“No bums, rich or not. A man has to make his own living. I don’t want someone who will drown if the stock market drops. The guy has to be able to dig himself back out.” Jessie glanced over the heads again.
“So let me get this straight. Rich, not too fat, self-made, young…did I leave anything out?”
“He’s gotta like kids.”
Jack blew out a long breath. “That’s a tall order, darlin’. You sure that kind of guy is out there?”
It was a lofty list. “I’m not sure of anything, Jack. This was your idea.” Her tone was short.
“OK, all right, don’t get all defensive. The night’s still young.”
She glanced at her watch. Actually, it was past
eleven already. And no one new was walking in the door.
“Gray suit, just stepped up to the bar,” Jack pointed out.
The man in question had his back to her, and Jessie waited for him to turn around. When he did, she skirted her gaze away. “That nose. Lord, what a shame.”
Jack laughed and so did she. “That’s a honker.”
“How can he see past it?” she asked.
“Not sure he can.”
One of the female guests walked up to Jack and picked up a piece of shrimp he had on his tray. “These are divine,” she cooed as she plucked it into her mouth.
“Glad you like ’em, ma’am.”
“Ma’am. Goodness, that makes me sound so old.”
Jessie figured the woman was in her forties. The sequined dress she wore sparkled when she walked. Her fingers dripped with diamonds. When her eyes traveled up one length of Jack and down the other, it was all Jessie could do to keep her eyes from rolling in disgust.
Could she be more obvious?
“I was brought up to be respectful,” Jack told the woman as his gaze passed over her without as much as a hint of interest.
“Oh, and a cute accent, too. How delightful.”
Jessie wanted to laugh
. Next thing you know the cougar will be slipping her room key into Jack’s pocket.
“Do you want another one?” Jack asked the woman, leaning the tray toward her.
Her eyes rolled up and down his frame a second time before she finally said, “Would I ever.”
Jessie lifted her hands and glanced at them, wondering if she was invisible to this woman or if she was always so rude.
“Ah, Jack, don’t you need
to stroll around the room with those?” Jessie asked, doing her best to pull his attention away from the surgery-stabilized woman.
“I suppose I should,” he said.
Jessie nudged him, which resulted in a cheeky grin and a chuckle as he walked away.
Cougar-lady watched his ass as he left their side. “Yum,” she whispered nearly to herself.
“He’s a little young for you, don’t you think?” Jessie asked.
Cougar-lady’s eyes shot to Jessie, seeing her for the first time. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I always make it worth their while.”
The way she spoke, Jessie realized this woman used men like Jack to suit their needs, never worrying about appearances. Her dress and jewelry pointed to a fat checking account or a high limit on a credit card. Jessie wondered if Jack ever took women like this one up on their offers of sex, a good time, and probably some type of monetary gain from the whole arrangement.
What did that make Jessie? Here she was looking for love with a pocketbook, and the cougar-lady was looking for loving using her pocketbook.
Suddenly the wine in Jessie’s glass tasted like vinegar. “Excuse me,” she said, shifting around the woman and setting the near-empty glass on a table.
The room grew warm. Jessie wandered out to the twinkling lighted veranda where some of the guests mingled. Guilt and a little disappointment in her own agenda made her want to leave. She was using Jack and his good-natured way just as much as the cougar would if given the chance. When had she become so shallow?
Maybe this is a mistake?
Attempting to shake her abruptly shifting mood, Jessie took in the breathtaking view of the gardens and the lit pond with koi swimming around in circles. She leaned over the railing to see one
of the orange fish disappear between two rocks.
When she stood up, she realized someone had joined her.
“Hello,” the sharply dressed man said to her once their eyes met. He was tall, about Jack’s height, slender, almost too much so. He had long fingers that looked as if he played the piano.
“Hi,” she managed.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you.” His easy smile was nice, but brief.
“No, just getting some fresh air.”
“I’m Brad,” he said, extending his hand.
“Jessie.” She allowed him to shake her hand. He let go quickly.
“It is a bit stuffy in there. Are you out here waiting for someone?”
Testing the waters, Jessie thought, and flirting with her, if she wasn’t too far out of the game to notice. His hair was darker than Jack’s, but not in a bad way. He definitely wasn’t from Texas; not a single twang to his voice.
“No, not really.” Even saying that felt strange, like maybe she should say she knew one of the servers. Then again, she was there to meet someone. Hadn’t Jack invited her to do just that?
“Good, then maybe you won’t mind if I join you.”
Did she want that? Brad wasn’t unappealing, but there wasn’t much about him that screamed attraction. When he smiled, the spark didn’t reach his eyes, not the way Jack’s eyes danced when he laughed.
She really needed to stop comparing the man to Jack. Jack was the waiter; this man was a guest. Still, her concern that Jack could round the corner and catch her talking to this guy made her feel wrong somehow. It shouldn’t, she realized, but it did. Bad form to be wearing a dress one man picked out for her while another man was flirting with her.
“I’m actually about to leave, but it’s been nice meeting you.”
A flash of disappointment spread over
Brad’s face. “Are you just saying that, or do you mean that?” he asked.
“I mean it. It’s late, and my…my sitter needs to get home.” OK, that was a crock. Monica didn’t need to go anywhere. Jessie had learned early on that talking about her sitter was a good way of telling a prospective date that she was a mother without the awkward
Do
you want to date a single mom
conversation.
Brad glanced at her left hand.
“I’m not married,” she informed him, saving him the trouble of asking.
He smiled again. No dimples, no spark to his brown eyes. At least she thought they were brown. It was hard to tell with the dim lighting.
“How old are your children?”
OK, he didn’t run screaming.
Not a bad sign.
“Child. I have a son. He’s five.”
Brad lifted his chin. “I’ll bet he’s adorable, just like his mother.”
Hookay, time to go
. “Thanks, he’s the best.” She scooted away, but only a couple of steps. She peeked over her shoulder, sure someone was watching her.
“Would you mind if I called you, Jessie? Maybe grab a cup of coffee or something?”
Jessie had to stop herself from saying no.
Why?
she asked herself.
Jack.
Dammit.
“That might be nice,” she found herself saying. “I like coffee.”
He pulled out a pen from the inside of his suit pocket and a card. “I’m going out of town this week, but I’ll be back the beginning of next.”
Jessie rambled off her number, which Brad happily wrote down.
“I really should go.”
He lifted his eyebrows and said, “I’ll see you later, then.”
“OK, bye.”
Jessie pulled her wrap close and fought a chill
as she stepped back into the busy ballroom. She walked about three yards before she noticed Jack’s eyes on her. He glanced behind her, to the open patio doors, then back her way. Jessie had to force herself not to look behind her to see if Brad had walked in the room. She felt guilty as it was, which was stupid. She shouldn’t feel bad at all.
She made her way to Jack’s side, forcing a calm smile on her face.
“There you are,” he said when she was within earshot.
“I needed to escape the cougar-lady after you left.”
Jack was still watching the doorway.
Jessie shifted on her feet. “Um, Jack, I think I should work my way home.” It was nearly midnight, and some of the guests had started to leave.
Something shifted in Jack’s gaze.
Jessie turned toward the patio doors and noticed Brad watching the two of them. He nodded his head to her before turning to talk to one of the guests.
“Who’s that?” Jack asked.
“Some guy.”
“Some guy?”
“Yeah, we met outside. He said his name was Brad. Do you know him?”
Jack shook his head; all the while, he followed Brad’s movements. “No, can’t say as I do.”
“He seemed nice enough.” Because not telling him was eating her up inside, she blurted out, “He asked me for my number.”
When Jack’s head spun to her, she swallowed hard. Jack pissed wasn’t a happy look. The sparkle she liked to see in his eyes when he smiled took on a whole new level when he was ticked. “Come on, Jack, you know I’m here to meet someone.”
“Someone I know that will do good
by you. That guy—”
“Brad.”
“Brad, what kind of name is Brad? He looks like a lawyer.”
Jessie was sure Jack meant that as an insult, but a lawyer spelled stability to her. “Brad is a perfectly normal name and I don’t know what he does for a living.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Nothing, really.”
“And you just gave him your number? He could be some wacko. Why don’t you let me do the matchmaking?”
Jessie laughed. “Stop it. I doubt he’s a wacko.”
Jack finally stopped staring at Brad and gazed down at her.
“Thank you for your concern, but I’m a big girl. My judgment in people isn’t usually very far off.”
As long as you weren’t counting Rory or Mathew.
“I don’t know.” He glanced back at Brad.
Jessie stood in front of him. “Don’t go doing anything stupid when I leave. Harassing the guests will get you fired.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes, didn’t you hear me?” No, of course he didn’t. Testosterone truly poisoned men’s brains.
“Is something wrong at home?”
“No, Danny is sleeping by now, I’m sure.”
Jack set the tray he held down on a nearby table. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“I insist.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and pushed her to the door.
“What about work? Won’t you get in trouble?”
Jack smiled. Some of it actually overtook his frown, and his eyes started to sparkle again. “I’m off at midnight anyway.”
“It’s not midnight yet.”
He ignored her words and fell in step beside
her. They dodged several people before making their way to the quiet lobby, then out into the entryway. “Did you valet park?”
“What do you think?” she asked as she turned toward the sidewalk, where self-parking was encouraged.
Jack nodded to the porter before catching up to her again. “You really don’t need to walk me to my car.”
“You can’t accuse me of not being a gentleman.”
No, she couldn’t say that about him. Jessie weaved her way through the cars until she saw her old Toyota Celica. It looked lost among so many fancy, newer vehicles. It ran, and that’s what counted.
“This is me,” she announced as she fished her keys from her bag. She opened the door and tossed her purse in the passenger seat before turning to Jack. “Thanks again, Jack. For everything.”
Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “It’s nothing. I’m glad you came.”
“I had fun. Be careful with the cougar-lady if you go back in there,” she warned.
“Cougar-lady?”
“Yeah, the flashy woman with the shrimp. She looks like she eats waiters for breakfast, and she had you in her sights.” Friends warn friends about bad choices for the bedroom, didn’t they?
“You be careful with Braaad.”
Jessie had to smirk at how Jack drew out Brad’s name. “He said something about calling me next week. I’m not even sure I’ll go out with him.” Now why did she tell him that? Maybe because when he said the other man’s name, he did so with a frown. Unease about the entire evening started to seep into her bones.
Jack stepped back. “Well, good night.”
“Night, Jack.”
Closing the door, Jessie was
grateful for the easy exit. No drama, no fuss.
Famous last words.
When she twisted the key in the ignition, the car groaned, then moaned, then gave up trying to start altogether. She twisted it again, but the car made only a clicking noise in response.
Oh boy. Just what she needed. Jack watched her through the windshield. Jessie threw her hands in the air and tried to start it again.
Nothing.
Frustrated, she opened the door and swung her feet out.
“I don’t get it; darn car wasn’t acting up on the way over here.”
“Pop the hood.”
“You know about cars?” Jessie leaned in and pulled the lever.
Jack opened the hood, but the dimly lit parking lot made viewing the engine minimally possible at best. Jack fiddled with a couple of things anyway. “Try again.”
Jessie did, but nothing changed. She pushed out of the car a second time and stood with Jack over the worn-out engine. “I hate this car. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”
“How many miles are on it?” Jack asked as he stood and lowered the hood.
“Two hundred and some change.”
“Thousand?”
“It’s an old car, Jack.”