“Mark, I had no idea it was this widespread.”
Mark sat back and exhaled loudly. He’d dressed casually for their meeting in a pair of khakis and a white polo shirt. His thick dark hair and brows gave him a brooding look. Jamie had seen him at his best and his worst. Mark was a workaholic. Jamie’s weekends at the Cape had always seemed like a luxury compared to Mark’s stringent work schedule. When Jamie first brought up that he’d be working remotely and spending the summer at the Cape with Vera, Mark had nearly had a heart attack. He’d spent three weeks trying to convince Jamie it was a bad idea, and not for selfish reasons. He had valid points about employees easing up on their work if the boss was gone and giving division directors more leeway to make decisions than they already had. Jamie, however, couldn’t be swayed. Vera wasn’t getting any younger, and if his employees worked a little less diligently, that wasn’t the end of the world. They worked their butts off every day of the year, just as he did. And now, having met Jessica, he realized that coming to the Cape had been the best decision he’d ever made.
“I figured you didn’t realize it, and I forgot about the ridiculous cell phone reception out here. Can’t you do what normal millionaires do and go to the Hamptons?”
Jamie silenced him with a no-way stare.
Mark held his hands up in the air. “Fine, whatever. I get it. Your grandma’s place, family ties and all that, but, Jamie, you’ve taken sidetracked to a whole new level.”
“Yeah. I get it. I’ll be more on point. I got a little lax.”
“A little lax?” Mark laughed. “Dude, a year ago you would have driven back to Boston the second I said the word issue. You built OneClick with nothing more than your brain and those talented programming fingers. Don’t mess it up.”
He’d never allow anyone else to talk to him that way, but Mark had stuck with him when he first opened the doors to OneClick and could barely pay him a tenth of what he should have. Days when Jamie wasn’t sure the hard work was worth it, Mark had talked him off the ledge. He owed Mark the respect of answering his emails in a timely fashion.
“I’m not messing it up. It looks like our team has a handle on it.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve taken care of it all as best I could, but you’re the best programmer there is, Jamie. Interpreting code is in your DNA. But these reports?” He slid a stack of papers across the table to Jamie. “You used to go over these with a fine-tooth comb. If you’d looked at them you might have caught this before it blew up.”
He hadn’t reviewed the trouble reports in a week. Mark was right. He’d messed up.
Jamie turned at the sound of Amy’s car pulling into the driveway across the road. He peered over Mark’s shoulder as the girls got out of the car. The first thing Jessica did was look over at his cottage. He watched her beautiful eyes skim over his car, to the front deck, then around back. Their eyes caught, and he felt her gaze all the way to his gut.
He smiled and waved.
Mark turned and looked at Jessica. “This is the girl?”
“Yes. Jessica.”
Mark leaned toward Jamie and lowered his voice. “She’s pretty, Jamie, but pretty women are a dime a dozen for a guy like you. What is it? Does she give the best blow jobs on the East Coast?”
Jamie gritted his teeth against his rising annoyance and reminded himself that this was how Mark had always joked. He ignored Mark’s comment altogether and went to greet Jessica as she came into the yard.
“Hey, babe.” He stepped off the deck and kissed her.
“Hi. I don’t want to interrupt.” She smiled at Mark, who lifted his chin in response.
Jerk. He could be a jerk. Jamie knew it and had always overlooked it, but when that jerkiness was turned toward Jessica, it struck a whole different chord in him.
Jamie shot Mark the narrow-eyed stare that Mark had seen a million times in business meetings when Mark wanted to play the tough negotiator and Jamie was sure it wouldn’t suit the situation.
Mark stood and held out a hand. “Mark Wiley, Jamie’s attorney.”
Jessica shook his hand. “Jessica. Nice to meet you.”
“Jessica…?” Mark waited for her to answer.
Jamie knew exactly what he was doing—fishing for information.
“Jessica Ayers.” She drew her brows together in question.
“Sorry. I’ll remember your name if I have the full name in my head. There are a million Jessicas out there.”
A million Jessicas? Jamie’s patience was wearing thin.
“So you’re the pretty little filly that’s been keeping Jamie from concentrating on work. I can see why,” Mark said.
“Watch it, Mark,” Jamie warned.
Mark lifted his chin in acknowledgment. “What do you do, Jessica?” He slid his hands into his pockets. Jamie knew the casual stance all too well. Mark was trying to put Jessica at ease while he slithered in to gain information, and even though this was what Mark did with most of the women Jamie dated, when it came to Jessica, it made every nerve stand on end.
“She plays for the Boston Symphony Orchestra.” Jamie put a protective arm around Jessica’s shoulder and walked toward her apartment. “I’ll be right back, Mark. Go ahead and do your thing.”
When they were on her deck, safely away from Mark, Jamie took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. “I’m sorry about Mark. He can be a jerk around women, and he’s very protective of me. But I’ll set him straight. You won’t have to worry about that kind of stuff anymore.”
She circled his waist with her arms. “He didn’t bother me. Well, except for the million Jessicas comment. That kind of felt like he was trying to make me jealous.”
“Don’t worry. You’re the only woman I want in my life.” He tilted her chin up and took her in a sensuous kiss. “I missed you, and I’m sorry this is taking so long. The issue goes much deeper than I thought.”
“That’s okay. Will you be there tonight to hear me play? It’s okay if you can’t. I don’t want to stand in the way of your work.”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world, and you’re never in the way. Work is work.” He shrugged, but he knew Jessica would see right through his shrugging it off so easily.
“Well, I’m sorry that you have a much bigger issue to deal with.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” He glanced over the quad and caught Mark watching them. “I’d better get back if we’re going to be done in time. We’re going to work straight through dinner. I’m really sorry, babe. I hate to leave you hanging.”
“That’s okay. Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you that the guy with the baseball called. He gave it to his grandson and doesn’t want to sell.”