An Unexpected Attraction (Love Unexpected Book 3) (6 page)

“Okay, I’ll take the wine. Since you’re twisting my arm,” she said.

“That didn’t take much,” Jay said in an amused voice.

Brenda sipped the coffee, listening to the rain pelt the windows and the roof, a steady attack that didn’t sound as if it would let up anytime soon.

“We should get together more often,” Jay said. He picked up his mug of coffee and took a sip.

“We should. All of us.”

He set his mug on the table beside him where a lamp illuminated one side of his face. He didn’t respond or react to her suggestion.

“So you really like your job?” he asked.

“I love it, and I’m glad I’m back in Atlanta.”

“Being an entertainment editor suits you.”

“Oh really? What does that mean?”

He cocked his head, eyes narrowing. “You’re a people person. You ever thought about acting?”

“No way!”

“Why not? You have the personality for that, too, I think.” He studied her with a thoughtful gaze.

“And what kind of personality is that?” She pinched a corner from the brownie and ate it. Delicious. She moaned quietly to herself, tasting the espresso and the chocolate, a potent combination that had her in dessert heaven.

A slow, knowing smile formed on his lips. “Good?”

“Mhmm.” So good, she picked up the plate and sliced into the dessert with the fork.

“Okay, what kind of personality is that…” Jay steepled his fingers. He seemed in deep thought, which amused her. “Actually, I have no idea what kind of personality that takes. I assume it takes someone who’s outgoing and friendly.” He shrugged.

“First of all, thank you for that compliment.”

“You’re welcome.” He inclined his head in a pretend salute to her.

Brenda slipped another piece of brownie into her mouth. After she’d swallowed, she said, “I wasn’t entirely truthful when you asked me about my interest in acting. You want to know a secret?”

“Sure.” His eyes filled with curiosity.

She’d never told anyone this before. “I used to want to be an actress. Even took classes. I imagined myself on stage or on screen like my favorite stars.”

“What happened?” He was frowning now.

She’d seen acting as a way to escape a tacky life with a single mother who embarrassed her with tawdry behavior, and a sister who became her responsibility simply because Brenda was eleven years older. The classes had been ridiculously cheap and offered by a former stage director at the community center near her home. For an entire year she’d saved the meager allowance her father sent, and when the classes started, she’d taken her sister with her twice a week for the one-hour sessions.

“I took the classes and…” Brenda took a deep breath and stared down at the almost empty plate. She’d eaten more of the brownie than she realized.

It was so long ago but it still hurt a little. When you’re fifteen years old and want something so bad, when you see it as your escape from the distastefulness of your immediate environment, the words of someone you admire can cut deep.

“I took the classes, and at the end of the course, the director told me I didn’t have what it takes to be an actress.”

“Why the hell not?” Jay sat up with a start, offended on her behalf. She appreciated his passionate response.

“He said I was too much.” Her cheeks and neck burned from embarrassment.

“Too much? What does that mean?”

“He said I overdid every scene, overdramatized the dialogue and my actions. That I was an…over-actor.”

“Oh.” Jay settled back into the chair. His response was very comical, as if he agreed with the director. She broke into a fit of laughter.

The fact that she’d held onto this secret for so long, as if it somehow defined her, was ridiculous. Holding onto the secret had given the incident much more power than it deserved.

“He was right, too,” she said in between laughs. “I sucked at acting.”

Jay laughed and covered his mouth with a fist. “I can see that. You can be very dramatic.”

“
Shut up
.” She tossed one of the pillows at him.

He easily caught it and set it on the floor beside him. “See what I mean?”

When they stopped laughing, she looked across the room at him and smiled. “I’m doing what I should be doing and right where I should be,” she said.

Instead of becoming an actor, she became someone who chronicled the highs and lows of their lives. But she admired their skill and the sacrifice—though others may not see it that way—they made to pursue a career in the public eye.

“I think you’re right. You’re right where you should be,” Jay said.

His steady gaze hinted at a deeper meaning behind the words. At the mild uptick in her pulse, Brenda’s eyes skittered away from his to look out the window. The rain had eased up enough that she couldn’t hear it anymore. Still, she stayed put.

“I think Terrence is interested in you,” Jay said.

“I think so, too.” She wanted to start dating again but didn’t think dating someone who worked for Jay was a good idea. She picked up the coffee. “What’s the story with you and Helen?” she asked carefully. Her pulse beat a little faster, apprehensive about his response.

“I thought it was obvious. There is no story.”

“You’re being mean.” She looked up at him. “You know she’s interested in you. It’s so obvious.”

Jay shook his head and tapped the arm of the chair. “She’s a friend who wants more, but a relationship wouldn’t work between us.”

“Why not?”

“She’s not Italian.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“My father insists that’s why my marriage didn’t last. Because my wife wasn’t Italian. I’ve been advised that the next time I marry, I should marry a nice Italian woman.” He grimaced.

“Parents are something else, aren’t they?” Jay had as much parental drama as she did. Her mother constantly embarrassed her, and his father never approved of anything he did. “Your father sounds almost like my mother.”

“How so?”

“When she found out I was moving back to Atlanta, she was happy because there are a lot of quote, successful black men, unquote, here. She hopes I’ll find a good black man and finally get married.”

Jay stopped tapping the furniture and his body grew very still. His gaze fixed on her. “Is that what you want?”

“To get married? Sure.” She’d actually thought she would be married by now. Finding the right man was taking longer than she’d expected.

“Does your husband have to be black?”

She’d never really thought about it much, but the question was easy to answer. Nowadays, people had options and fewer concerns about societal approval, unlike the days when her neighbor, Mrs. Chen, had met and married her husband. “No, he doesn’t have to be black.”

Jay resumed tapping the arm of the chair.

“What about you?” Brenda asked. “Do you have a preference?”

“No. I’d like to be married again, though.” His answer surprised her. She assumed Jay had so much fun dating, marriage was not a priority. “I don’t care what she looks like.”

“So five hundred pounds, a unibrow, and a beard would work?”

His shoulders shook with laughter. “That’s not really my type, but…”

“But you’d give her a shot?”

“I’d give anyone a shot.” She didn’t even want to examine why his response was a relief and why she breathed easier because of it. His choice of future wife had no bearing on her personal situation.

He lifted his coffee and held it out toward her. “Here’s to finding happiness with someone. No matter what they look like or where they’re from.”

She lifted her cup, too. “Agreed.”

The toast signaled the end of their conversation. She finished her coffee and Jay removed the empty dishes to the kitchen before walking her out to the car. Standing beside the Jetta on the dark street, there were no lights on in most of the houses, and the neighborhood was quiet except for a dog barking several doors down.

Brenda shifted the plastic bag with the goodies he’d given her from her left to right hand. “Guess I’ll be sleeping late tomorrow.” She faked a yawn, ready to break away before awkwardness descended between them.

“Thank you for staying and all your help.” Jay pulled her into an unexpected, one-armed hug. “I had a good time,” he murmured. He held his mouth close to her ear, his beard brushing her skin.

She froze, turning into a stiff column, even as heat and arousal merged between her thighs. She kept one hand between them so they didn’t get too close. “I had a good time, too,” she mumbled.

She tried to withdraw, but his hold tightened by a fraction, enough to keep her in the embrace. His splayed out fingers ran up and down her spine, and her body became even more rigid. The way he brushed his hands over her back sent a wave of heat to wash down her body. This was a man touching a woman, not a friend touching a friend.

Flattening her hand against his chest and gently pushing, she made an effort to break free again. This time he lifted his other hand to her arm. He had to know she was trying to get away from him, but she was at a mild disadvantage with one hand still holding the bag of brownies and wine.

“Good night, Brenda.” He placed a soft kiss on her cheek. A chaste, innocent kiss that didn’t feel chaste, didn’t feel innocent coming from him. Not when his mouth was moist and the rough hairs of his beard scuffed her cheek and made her throb with want.

She shoved hard against his chest and bounced half a car length away from him. Oddly enough, she missed the closeness and his touch, even while she acknowledged guilt for craving those things.

“Why did you do that?” she demanded. Her pulse had elevated, beating fast at her temple and the base of her neck.

“It was just a—”

“Don’t act as if you don’t know what you did. As if it was nothing.”

He shoved his fingers through his hair, chest visibly lifting with labored breathing.

His face tightened. “Why did
I
do that? Why do
you
do that?” He shook his head and laughed, a humorless and angry sound. “Why do you always act as if my touch is the worst, most disgusting, most horrible thing you could imagine?”

“You shouldn’t have kissed me!”

“Maybe I couldn’t help myself!” he shot back. He let out a heavy breath and fell back against the car, scraping his fingers through his hair again. “Maybe I’m an asshole and not a fine, upstanding citizen,” he said in a tired voice.

Closing her eyes briefly, Brenda gathered the resolve necessary to leave. When she lifted her lids, he was staring at her. She didn’t know what he thought. Nor did she care. He’d crossed a line.

“Goodnight, Jay.” Her voice should have been firm, but it came out soft and throaty.

A defeated slump to his shoulders, he stepped away from the car, giving her plenty of room. She edged to the driver door. Fumbling, she attempted to put the key in the hole, failing to accomplish the task three times while he watched. She finally opened the door and hopped in, eyes averted from his silent figure.

She started the car and made a U-turn, driving away without acknowledging him but lifting her eyes to the rearview mirror just the same. Jay stood in the wet road, feet spread apart, arms hanging loosely at his sides. Dressed in all black with black hair and black shoes, he looked more like a shadow than a person standing there. He remained in the same spot even after she turned onto the next street.

Brenda breathed easier once he was out of sight. Her muscles relaxed and the heat in her abdomen subsided. Being alone with Jay was never, ever a good idea, and she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

She tightened her hands on the steering wheel and focused on the road ahead. She couldn’t wait to get home and as far away from Jacopo Santorini as possible.

Chapter
Six

His staff hated Friday meetings, and hated them even more on sunny afternoons in June, but Jay couldn’t wait to give them the good news.

“We’re having another great quarter.” The seven-member executive team seated around the glass conference table clapped and cheered. “The creative services department continues to do an incredible job with the ad campaigns and image rebranding. Feedback from our clients through the surveys continues to be overwhelmingly positive. Special thanks to Talia and her team for an outstanding job.” He inclined his head toward the only female in the room, and everyone clapped.

Talia smiled her appreciation at the public acknowledgement.

Jay then went down the list, complimenting the media buying department for negotiating impressive discounts, account services for excellent customer service, and finance for keeping everyone within budget. “Good job everybody,” he said when the clapping had died down. “Now get your asses back to work.”

Chuckles filled the room, and the group filed out, talking amongst themselves. Jay was the last to leave. He stopped in the break room and filled a cup with herbal tea before heading back to his office. He passed his executive assistant’s empty desk, went into his office and closed the door. The first thing he did was call his father, Gino Santorini, in Italy and give him the same update as the staff.

Gino had retired from the company years ago and, concerned about Jay’s playboy ways, hadn’t expected it to run so smoothly under Jay’s leadership. Ironic, considering his father hadn’t been faithful to Jay’s mother during their marriage and regularly traveled the world with his latest girlfriend. Yet he’d handed over the reins of his successful advertising firm, and to put his father’s mind at ease, he kept him abreast of goings on at the firm.

Thirty minutes later, he was signing contracts when his secretary called.

“Yes?”

“Your ex-wife is on the phone.”

Jay slammed the pen on the pile of papers. She still had the power to spoil his day with a single phone call. “Put her through.”

The line went silent, and when the call was passed through, he greeted his ex-wife. “Hello, Jenna.”

“I hope you don’t mind my calling,” she said.

“How can I help you?” His tone was scrap-the-bullshit sharp. She knew how much he disliked taking personal calls at work, yet she frequently called during business hours. That was typical of her, though. She didn’t care if her desire to have or do something inconvenienced other people. He supposed such behavior was the result of being doted on by an indulgent father.