“Hell, no.” I blinked and took a step back. “You’re not coming.” She opened her mouth to protest so I cut her off. “Don’t even pretend to like her, when you’re at each other’s throat all the time.”
“That’s not true…okay, maybe a little, but you know what I like even less? Being forgotten by my best friend on a Tuesday night. Come on, Brooke.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you have any idea what might happen if I spent a night all alone?” She paused for dramatic effect. “Someone could break in. Or I could get so bored that I might end up finishing all the booze and make out with our neighbor from number 4.”
Gross. The guy from number 4 was a major creep who walked around in a bathrobe. Every time we stepped out of the building, he was in the hallway, as though he knew we’d be leaving.
“Oh, come on, Brooke. Pretty please, I don’t want to be all alone on Tuesday the 13th.”
I rolled my eyes. Sylvie loved melodrama and, in particular, if it helped her get what she wanted. Soon bargaining would follow, and if that didn’t do the trick she’d revert to good old blackmail. She had followed the same patterns for the last twenty years, or ever since I refused to give her my lunch box in kindergarten. I wasn’t going to stick around for that.
“I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine,” she whispered. “You want to know what Jett said?”
“Who’s Jett?” And that’s when it dawned on me. Mystery Guy. He had introduced himself the evening we met, but the name was so unusual I didn’t really catch it. I thought it was something like Jack, or Jake, or Jeremiah, and the strange pronunciation was the result of his Southern accent.
Even his name sounded sexy and forbidden. I couldn’t help but picture me moaning it while he kissed me all over my body. My face grew hot and hotter. Dammit. This was all Sylvie’s fault. She knew more than I did. If she wasn’t so openly ready to trade in her information, I wouldn’t be literally panting at the sound of a guy’s name.
“Jett...I mean, Sylvie, I don’t have time for this.”
Crap. I was under his spell. I needed to get him out of my system. And quick before I ended up making a complete fool out of myself. I clutched my handbag to my chest and walked out the door, ignoring Sylvie’s incredulous gawking.
“Wait, Brooke! Don’t leave me hanging,” she shouted after me.
Throwing glances over my shoulder to make sure she wasn’t following, I dashed for the parking spot around the block and jumped into my car, ready to head out for a day of hard work, or what was left of it now that it was almost lunchtime.
CHAPTER THREE
New York traffic was a nightmare. By the time I fought my way downtown I was already three hours late. Dammit. Not only was Jett—aka Mystery Guy— messing with my life, he was also ruining my career. My boss, James, wouldn’t be pleased. In fact, as I reached the office and dropped into my swivel chair, my fingertips starting to type furiously on the keyboard to check emails and appointments for the day I could almost feel the hot waves of anger coming from James’s office. Maybe he hadn’t noticed my absence. Oh, who was I kidding? The guy knew everything. And, for a gay guy, he sure knew how to yell, which was what I was about to hear in three…
Two.
One.
“Brooke! Move your sweet ass over here this instant!”
The office dragon had spied me. Now I was in big trouble. With a deep sigh I sat up, smoothed over my pencil skirt, and headed for the inevitable with slow, measured steps. In my mind I could hear the scary pounds of a drum warning of imminent doom. Wendy, the receptionist, shot me a pitiful look. I smiled back and fought back the urge to pretend I had to leave again for a business meeting. I was a grown up and by no means scared of James.
“Close the door,” James said as I entered his office. I did as he bid and settled into the chair opposite from his huge mahogany desk. My hands folded in my lap, I looked up to meet his angry gaze.
Even though he had to be at least ten years my senior, he didn’t look a day older than thirty. His highlighted blond hair was brushed back from his smooth forehead. His skin had a golden glow which everyone attributed to weekly tanning sessions, and it stood in strong contrast to his crisp, white shirt and black suit. His piercing blue eyes focused on me, measuring me up and down. I wrapped my suit jacket tighter around me as though to protect myself from his inquisitive gaze. Why was he staring at me like that? Why wouldn’t he just start his usual tirade, include a warning or two, and get it over and done with?
I was about to apologize for my lateness when a knock rapped at the door.
“Come in,” James said, looking up from me to our new intern, a twenty-something guy called Tim.
“Here are your papers, boss.” Tim smiled shyly, which in turn had James’s face lighting up like a Christmas candle. Tim had a great body with well-defined muscles and taut skin the color of melted chocolate, which made me believe he spent a lot of time at the fitness center.