“So, you’re Ace Newman’s girl?”
The question surprised me for several reasons. Was I Ace’s girl? Ha, I didn’t think so. And why would that be his lead question?
Whitney glared at me from across the table as I struggled for my answer. “No, we’re just friends. Ace isn’t the settling down type,” I managed to spit out.
“Well, he’s a damn fool.” His words made me blush, and my nipples tingled against the thin silk of my dress as I stared into his seductive blue eyes. Wow, this was one attractive man!
Whitney gave me an approving look.
“That explains that then,” Jack announced calmly.
“Explains what?” I asked.
“Why you’re here and not at his party tonight.”
Wow. That punch in the gut hurt a little more than it should have, but I didn’t allow my smile to falter. Ace seriously had a party on the night I arrived and didn’t even bother to invite me?
Remember, Holly, he probably didn’t remember the phone call. And you never said when you were coming.
I smiled, nodded, and picked up my drink.
Calvin introduced Jack to Whitney, but his eyes lingered on me and were full of concern. He knew I was playing tough. We’d known each other long enough for him to realize I’d be bothered by being ignored by Ace in such a way.
Whitney was upselling me pretty hard, telling Jack that I was the best baker in Indiana, soon to be New York.
“So, you’re staying here now, in New York?” he asked.
I nodded, sipped my drink, and forced myself to stop twirling my hair around my finger like a schoolgirl as I did my best not to appear like a small town idiot playing dress up with the adults.
Jack proved to be one smooth operator, not in the way Ace operated, but on an entirely new level. He was sweet and very attentive, something I wasn’t accustomed to, but there was something that bothered me below his polished surface.
“So, tell me about this bakery,” Jack said, lifting his beer to his lips.
But I wasn’t paying attention, not until Whitney kicked me under the table.
“Holly makes some of the most amazing creations,” Whitney said, rescuing me as I rubbed my shin.
His eyes remained on my face. A slight smile emerged, and I couldn’t stop from admiring how beautiful and full his lips were.
“What got you into baking?” he asked, obviously willing to give me a chance at redemption.
Damn, I hated these types of questions. “I’m not sure exactly. The smells. The warmth of the kitchen. The joy of taking bits of this and that and creating something that makes people smile.”
“Did your mother bake?”
I didn’t really want to get into the whole mom passed away, dad was a drunk, and I hid in the kitchen story. “No, it started more as a comfort and just evolved.”
“So you didn’t study anywhere?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested.
“My degree is actually in business economics,” I admitted.
There was that smile again, but this time not so slight. His eyes danced on mine as I quickly broke contact and gripped my pink drink.
“So, not exactly the same thing.” He laughed, not at me, but in a way that told me he was amused by me, maybe even intrigued.
“Holly always does what she wants to do,” Calvin interjected.
I wondered if he was referring to the high school quarterback — one of my biggest mistakes — or if he was actually being sweet.
My phone vibrated on the table, lighting up like a Christmas tree. “I’m sorry.” I scooped the phone up and glanced at the screen. And blinked twice. It was a text from Ace.
Ace: Cum snuggle me?
I didn’t bother to reply, but the text certainly shook me a little. A part of me wanted to go, to spend one last night with Ace before he was whisked off to Daytona Beach. I knew he’d be fully immersed in spring training and other stuff, mainly drinks, women, and well, more women. Ugh!
I shoved the phone into my purse and sipped on my drink. Calvin and Jack were talking about the spring break schedule while Whitney stared daggers through me. “Excuse us,” she said too sweetly.
She stood up from the table and motioned for me to follow her towards the ladies’ room. Jack stood, pushed his chair in and allowed me room to pass. Wow, what a gentleman.
Whitney wrapped an arm around me, and picked up the pace towards the large white door with “Ladies” written across it in bright gold letters, practically yanking me along.
“What’s gotten into you?” I hissed once the door was firmly closed behind us.
“Who was that?” she demanded.
“Who?” I played dumb.
She heaved out an irritated breath. “On the phone.”
Hell, she already knew, so I might as well confess. “Ace.”
Her face turned a light shade of pink, and I knew it was anger working through her as she dug in her purse for a tube of lipstick. “So, I guess you have to go?”
“Not at all,” I assured her, checking my own lipstick in the mirror. “I’m enjoying my conversation with Jack.”
Her entire body relaxed, and I could almost feel the relief pouring out of her. “So, what did he want?”
I pulled my phone from my purse and let her see for herself. She rolled her eyes and sighed as she turned to the mirror and applied the lipstick.
“After he’s done partying, he has time for you?” Her tone was exhausted and matched the look on her face.
“I wasn’t expecting him to call me tonight. I didn’t think he even knew I was here.”
She met my gaze in the mirror. “Calvin probably told him.”
I didn’t expect Whitney’s attitude towards Ace to be all warm and fuzzy, but it was hurtful when she became so cold about someone I liked.
“Are you going to call him?” she snapped, popping her lips with the newly applied shade of pink.
“Yes, but just to tell him I won’t be able to make it tonight.”
Her look didn’t exactly scream approval. I knew she would much prefer I blew him off like he had me so many times before. It was the right thing to do to call. Two wrongs don’t make a right… I know I’ve heard that somewhere before.
Whitney leaned against the bathroom sink, her arms crossed over her chest. “Okay, well, call him before we get back to the table.”
I dialed the phone and waited for Ace to answer. His voice was sleepy, like he had already been in bed. “Hey you,” I said softly while Whitney continued to watch me.
“Are you here?” he asked.
“Yes. I got into New York this afternoon.”
“No. I mean, here, at my house?” he clarified.
Wow, had I been so accessible that he thought I’d be at his doorstep ten minutes after his text?
“No, I’m out with Whitney.”
“Darlin’, it’s cold in this bed without you. Come snuggle with me, baby.”
“I’m not sure how long we’ll be out tonight.”
It was tough trying to stand my ground. I knew if Whitney wasn’t staring at me I would have made my escape with some lame excuse and jumped into that large bed with him.