We glare at each other, our gazes warring for victory as we wait to see who will back down first (or, more likely, just end this by leaving). The flinty resolve in his eyes tells me Jack isn’t used to losing, though.
Well, news flash, Jack: Neither am I.
Nat breaks in. “Okay, you two. I’m not gonna lie, this has been really entertaining, but I think it’s no longer constructive.” She tugs on my arm, shooting me a pointed look.
I’m grasping for the perfect witty-yet-biting parting shot when one of the article’s tips pops into my mind uninvited: Never ridicule his masculine achievements or show contempt for his ideas. Building him up should be your highest priority.
I cringe as I realize that Gran’s meddling advice and those stupid tips seem to have infiltrated my brain against my will—but almost as quickly as the thought dissolves, a new one materializes in its place:
Use him.
The idea breaks through the clouds like a wartime airdrop; a sudden, providential gift delivered into my outstretched hands on a clear, sunny day. It’s a brilliant beyond brilliant idea. Maybe the best one I’ve ever had.
But one thing’s for sure: To pull it off, I’ll need to perform the about-face of a lifetime.
“You know what?” I say, making my tone appropriately sheepish. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“What?” Jack and Nat say in unison.
I lock eyes with Jack and pray my face conveys regret rather than duplicity. “I don’t know what I was thinking, blaming you for what happened with Brett. You’re absolutely right, it has nothing to do with you. It’s obviously still pretty raw—I must be looking for a scapegoat.” I drop my head and look away, feigning embarrassment, and hear Gran’s voice echoing in my head: Men want to pursue, provide, and protect. They want to feel needed.
I peek up at him from beneath my lashes, doe-eyed and repentant. He looks stupefied and more than a little suspicious. Take pity on me, you big, strong man. I’m a delicate flower.
“I took my frustration out on you, and that was wrong of me. It was probably that fall—I must’ve hit my head.” I chirp a laugh like a potential concussion is hilarious. “I’ve been out of sorts. Nat will tell you.”
I turn to Nat and she’s gaping at me like I’ve just morphed into a werewolf. I send her a pleading message with my eyes: Just go with it.
She blinks and turns to Jack. “It’s true,” she continues seamlessly. “Brett was a total shit to her and she’s been on the warpath ever since. Wild mood swings, snapping at people. It’s like twenty-four-seven PMS. Don’t take it personally.”
I shoot her a look: Really, was that necessary? She splays her palms like, What?
I grind my teeth and turn back to a still-shell-shocked Jack. “Anyway, I apologize. I let a silly work feud get the best of me, but that’s really between you and Cynthia. And also”—I lean into him like I’m confessing a grave sin—“I probably shouldn’t admit this, but that recent piece you guys posted on equal work in the bedroom? It was actually really funny.”
Just saying that last part burns my throat like bile. Frankly, I’m amazed I could even vomit the words up. Please God, do not smite me for speaking with such a forked tongue.
I pause to gauge my progress, assessing his body language to see how I’m faring. He’s studying me carefully, his expression inscrutable. He hasn’t spoken a word since I flipped the script on him, so I have no idea if he’s buying this in the slightest. He probably thinks I have multiple personality disorder.
I don a coquettish smile. “I hope I haven’t scared you off.” I bite my lip and Look at me, I’m pleasing and submissive and exactly the type of woman you want. I lightly brush my fingertips along his forearm, and his eyes flare. “I’m still game for that date—that is, if you’re still offering.” I stop, my case rested, on tenterhooks now as I wait for his final verdict.
He wants to agree, I can tell he does, but still he waffles. Behind those navy eyes I can see his mind working, the gears spinning as he tries to make sense of my one-eighty. He’s at war with his own intuition.
A lightning bolt of inspiration strikes me. Men like him—masters of the universe, kings of all they see—love a challenge. Appeal to his manhood.
“Of course, that’s if you think you can handle me,” I say suggestively, throwing him a sly grin and a wink for good measure. I’m daring him to claim me.
It does the trick. “Consider yourself handled.” His eyes gleam and I know I’ve got him. “It’s a date.”
Chapter 4
So then it dawned on me—Jack is my story. These tips are just begging to be tested on him.”
It’s the next morning and I’m in Cynthia’s office, relaying every sordid detail of my run-in with Jack while Nat provides pithy commentary from Cynthia’s blush-colored love seat. Behind her, a wall of glass provides an unobstructed view of the newsroom floor, a hive of worker bees orbiting their queen, their low buzz of activity throwing off a lulling ambient noise. If I were the boss I’d want a little more privacy—good luck picking so much as a wedgie without someone seeing—but I think she gets off on surveying her kingdom like Mufasa.
“You should’ve seen how she had him eating out of her hand by the end of it,” Nat reports gleefully, swilling her coffee. “Not an actress, eh? Could’ve fooled me.”
I flush with equal amounts of pride and embarrassment. “Honestly, I don’t even know where it came from. I felt possessed.”
After I somehow managed to convince Jack to hop aboard the crazy train, I practically threw my number at him while Natalia made some excuse and we hightailed it out of there as fast as our heels could carry us. Back at the apartment (and after I explained myself), Nat and I spent the rest of the night workshopping my new-and-improved plan for the vintage dating story. When we finally called it a night, I spent hours blinking at the ceiling, my brain racing with ideas, too keyed up to sleep. I woke up blurry with fatigue, yet somehow so jittery I was forced to eschew my morning coffee. An EKG machine would have a field day.
“I’ll tell you where it came from,” Cynthia says, matter-of-fact. “Your reporter’s instinct. You recognized a once-in-a-lifetime story and went for it.”