I scowl. “Not funny.”
Ignoring Hannah, I turn to address the only furry critic in the room. “You think I look good, don’t you, Mr. Felix?”
Felix, perched on the chair next to my makeup table, stares as if he gives zero fucks with his grumpy face. “Rowr.”
I stick my tongue out at him. “Fine, forget you. I’ll remember that come feeding time.”
Mr. Felix still doesn’t give a fuck, giving a yawn and resuming his mean face.
“Really, you look beautiful,” Hannah says, dropping her humor. But she pauses, a serious expression coming over face. “Still, though, I wonder . . .”
I turn to appraise her. “Wonder what?”
She swings her leg over the side of my bed and gets up, shaking her head slowly. “Do you think you should be seeing him outside of work?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“It was all fun and games before, and if it were anyone else, I still would tell you to go for it. But Jake is your boss now. And considering how you tried to screw his brains out on your first meeting, I’d say y’all aren’t starting on the right foot professionally.” She takes a deep breath. “I just don’t think this is a good look.”
I place my hands on my hips, trying to think of every damn excuse I can to justify going. “Just because he’s now my boss doesn’t mean I can’t go meet with him. Which he guilt tripped me into doing, I might add. Plus, I still have to give him his wallet.”
“Yeah, I know that but—” Hannah starts, but I hold up a hand.
“And who’s saying I’m going to sleep with him?”
At least not tonight.
Hannah opens her mouth to speak and then sees the look on my face. I’ve seen it before. It’s one I’ve inherited from my mother and my sister, the one that says Proceed with caution. Your ass is on thin ice. She takes another deep breath and lowers her voice. “Look, all I’m trying to say is that it’s different when you work with someone. Especially someone who’s your boss. If this is going to be friendly cordial, keep it friendly cordial. I just don’t think you should let it go beyond that, even if that’s how this all started. You don’t want people saying shit around the office.”
I want to deny Hannah’s words, but I have to admit that the same thoughts occurred to me as soon as Jake asked. But I’ve tried to ignore them. I just want an ending to our first night, dammit! I’m hungry for it. I want to know what lies behind those gorgeous eyes and that sun-bright smile. And yeah, part of me feels guilty and wants to make it up to him for leaving him like that in the club. That was a dick move on my part.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I finally say. “You’re right. It won’t be good if this turns into something else. So I’ll keep it all business. Strictly professional.” I almost sound like I’ve convinced myself. “I’ll go there, give him his wallet back, let him know I’m truly sorry for everything, and leave it at that.”
Hannah lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Don’t be mad at me. I just want what’s best for you.”
“I know,” I say. “Come here.” I hold my arms out to her and we embrace. “You’re not Mindy, but you make a decent placeholder.”
Hannah laughs. “Oh, shut up.”
Mr. Felix just rawrs.
On the way over to the club, Hannah and I talk very little. My mind is filled with what I’m going to say to Jake. The first night I met him, my mind was overrun with hormones and I couldn’t even focus on what he was saying. All I could see were those eyes that could command me to do anything. But now . . .
We pull up to the club. Surprisingly, there’s a lot of cars for a Monday night. This is a nightclub, not a sports bar showing Monday Night Football.
“Remember,” Hannah says as I get out, “keep it business.”
“Right. All business,” I say as we hug briefly. “I’ll be back by ten. Jake said he’ll give me a ride home, but I’ll be home by eleven at the latest, okay?”
“Okay,” Hannah says, giving me a look in the eyes. “Ten would be better.”
“Okay, Mom,” I half tease, patting her on the cheek. “You know he said you could come too.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he would like that,” Hannah teases, giving me a wiseass grin.
The line isn’t out the door like it was Saturday night, but still, the place is fairly busy as I go inside. The music is good, more low-key than it was over the weekend. Thankfully, Jake is expecting me. I doubt I’d get in right now otherwise. “Hi,” I tell the doorman. “Mr. Stone is expecting me. Roxy Price?”
The doorman, still one of the MIB crew, checks his tablet before nodding. “Just a moment, Miss Price.”
He turns and talks quietly into his earpiece before nodding. “Is there a problem?”
“Not at all,” the doorman says as another of the MIB come over. “John, here, will take you to see Mr. Stone.”
“Right this way,” John, who looks like he should be in the Secret Service instead of working nightclub security, says with a slight bow of his head. As we make our way through the club, I see that my first impression was wrong. This place is nearly packed.
I think the difference is the clientele. Over the weekend, most of the clubbers were younger, twenty-and thirty-somethings. This group is at least a decade older, and the music reflects it. I’m hearing some stuff that hasn’t been in heavy rotation since the turn of the millennium. Then again, Will Smith is pretty smooth on Switch.
As John walks with me past the bar, I feel a moment of rising anxiety as I look around for the creepy bastard who tried to drug me, but I don’t see him. John notices and gives me a reassuring smile. “All clear tonight, Miss Price. Come, Mr. Stone is waiting for you upstairs.”
I look up and see Jake leaning on the railing of the VIP section, giving me a little wave. I wave back, and John leads me up, giving me the same little nod before he peels off to watch the steps to the VIP level. I’m surprised when I see that Jake’s alone up here. We have the whole level to ourselves.
“You’re looking dapper,” I comment as he comes over. He’s changed from the suit he wore to work into a slightly tighter fitting, brighter gray suit that just barely gleams in the club lights. “How many suits do you own, anyway?”
“Enough,” he says easily, and as he steps closer, I’m just staggered again by his magnetism. He has this confident ease about him that isn’t cocky. It’s more like he’s saying Yes, I have the looks, but I’m more than that. “Come on, I have a booth for us.”
He leads me over to a nice booth, all done in black velvet with a low ebony table in the middle. “Let me get you a drink,” he says, signaling the waitress. “A Little Mermaid,” he says, “and a Highlander.”
I give him a raised eyebrow, and he chuckles. “You’ll like it, relax. You look amazing, by the way. Love what you did with your eyes. It totally changes your expression from work.”
His eyes roam over my face, causing my skin to feel like I’ve got a low grade sunburn. I feel sexy, and when I do a switch on my legs, crossing my right over my left, his eyes watch every movement. I love the way he makes me feel. It’s like we never left off. “Are you saying I looked bad at work?” I ask playfully. “Less feminine?”
Jake licks his lips and laughs. “Hardly. But you looked scared out of your mind. Not like you do now. You look at home.”
I shrug, reaching into my purse. “Here’s your wallet. Uh, just to let you know, I robbed you blind.”
He chuckles and takes it from my hand. “I doubt that.”
Without even opening it, he takes the wallet and slides it into his jacket pocket. I stare at him for a moment, shocked. “You’re not going to count the money?”
“I trust you,” he says confidently. “You look more like an angel than a thief.”
I blush, then I laugh. “Okay, just don’t get mad when you get the credit card bill for that trip to Hawaii I booked, complete with matching Louis Vuitton luggage.”
Jake laughs again. “You’re not the type for LV luggage.”