Travis wordlessly lifted his hands into the air in frustration, then got up off the couch. He held his hand out for Kacey and pulled her in for a hug. “Seriously, Kace, don’t worry about it. I promise. Jake’s just being Jake, okay?”
She nodded, but she wasn’t convinced. Because for the first time in years Jake actually looked… sad about the way that his night had gone. He looked anything but happy and, that was the thing: he’d never let a girl affect him like that before. Not even when she and he had been together. Which really made Kacey wonder if he was falling for her best friend.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Can you drive faster?” Char asked, a bit annoyed that it was taking them so long to get back into the city. She had exactly forty minutes to get ready and be at the office.
“Sure. I’ll just get a speeding ticket,” Jake said.
“It’s not like you can’t afford it.”
“What is up with you?” He pulled into the carpool lane. “Everything was fine last night and then all of a sudden you’re a cold b—”
“If you value your life, you won’t finish that sentence.”
“Brat.” Jake grinned and sped past another car.
Char ignored his ridiculously flashy smile and looked out the window. “It’s fine; everything’s fine. I just have a lot to get done if I’m going to take all that time off from work for the wedding.”
They fell silent.
After a few minutes, Jake asked. “Is it something I did?”
Something he did? Was he really that dense? He was toying with her feelings! Making her fall for him when he really had no interest beyond friendship. “No,” she lied. “I’m just tired.”
“I’m sorry.” He pulled the car on to Queen Anne Hill. “You know, if it was me, I didn’t mean to upset you with your parents or get us arrested or—”
“Jake.” Char interrupted. “It was the best birthday ever. I promise. I just have to return to reality, you know?”
Gosh, how depressing did that sound? Returning to reality, where she wasn’t a princess, Jake sure as hell wasn’t her prince, and she worked at a job where people still snickered behind their clipboards.
He seemed satisfied with that answer because he didn’t say anything, just parked the car and let her walk away without as much as a good-bye.
It was better that way.
It had to be.
*
By the time Char made it to work, she was already ten minutes late and had missed her morning coffee.
A few people whispered when she walked by, which really wasn’t all that odd. She made her way to her desk amidst all the stares. Please! It wasn’t as if she was doing the walk of shame, not that she’d been opposed to the idea last night. Ugh, how could she be so stupid! The man was her kryptonite! One kiss and she was powerless. The man needed a warning label or an act of government to warn unsuspecting women.
“Hey.” A man she’d never seen before stopped her. “Happy Birthday, Char. Hope it was awesome.”
“Um, yeah, thanks.” Self-consciously, Char looked around the room and noticed every eye on her. Keeping her head down, she made a beeline for her desk.
It was covered in roses.
Hundreds of yellow roses.
With shaking hands she picked up the card. Written inside was a simple note: “Sorry you cried. Hope you had a great birthday. I’ll pick you up at five to finish the list—Jake.”
“Damn.”
“Who are those from?” Her boss, Mark, walked up behind her and smiled. “And why didn’t you tell us it was your birthday?”
“I, uh—”
“You don’t have to tell me. But I need to see you for a few seconds, okay? When you’re ready.” He lifted his coffee cup in the air, giving her a waft of the caffeine she so desperately needed, and walked off.
Char set her purse down inside her desk and stomped off toward Mark’s office. After closing the door, she took a seat.
“You didn’t tell me you were going to be in the Titus wedding,” he began. No hello, no hi, how are you? Nothing. Just a simple fact. She’d failed to mention she was going to be in the wedding of the century. Whoops?
“I, uh, was trying to respect their privacy.” The lie came swiftly; really she was just trying to push the attention away from her and Jake, again. Eventually, word would get out and she didn’t want to be hounded by all her female co-workers, asking what he smelled like.
“I want you to cover it.”
“But I’m in it.”
“Exactly.” He leaned forward and folded his hands across the desk. His gray eyes gleamed as the fluorescent lights drew attention to a vein in his forehead. “Ever since the incident—” That’s what he called it. The incident where she showed up for a news report completely wasted after a one-night stand with Seattle’s infamous bachelor. Would she never live that down?
Mark paused and cleared his throat. “You’ve been doing a few stories for us here and there, but have yet to gain your spot back as one of our premier reporters. It’s not you. It’s our reputation that’s at stake. We can’t have a girl with your type of—”