Calling All the Shots (3 page)

“I actually know Deidre,” he said. “And I’ve had a couple of
chats with Peter. My guess is that Peter said or did something that scared
her.”

“Like what?” Willow asked. She was a little embarrassed to
admit that she didn’t think that Jack was sensitive enough to notice anyone
else, much less be aware that they had nuances.

“Well, Deidre talks tough on her show but in real life she’s
very sensitive. I’m betting Peter thinks she’s tougher than she is and probably
pushed her too fast.”

“You think?” Willow asked. “Deidre seems very much in control
and bossy to me. I was guessing she told Peter to do something and he didn’t do
it.”

“Might be. They both like to be in charge,” Jack said. “If she
gets a new man, would we have to start all over again with them?”

“Yes. It would mean three weeks of wasted filming,” Willow
said. “Do you know Deidre well enough to call her up and chat with her?”

“Yes, I do.”

“How do you know her? She doesn’t move in the Hollywood circles
you do,” Willow said.

“She was my therapist after my accident. She was the one who
helped steer me toward broadcasting.”

Willow hadn’t thought about how he’d transitioned to his
current career. She’d just thought…well, that he was the golden boy so things
worked out for him. She’d been a little jealous of how easy his life looked from
her point of view but she was getting glimpses of him that made her realize
Jack’s life wasn’t as effortless as it seemed.

“I’d love it if you would call and talk to her. Can you do it
now? I’ll text Mona and tell her to wait before she talks to Deidre.”

“Yes, I can do it, but only if you promise you’ll do me a favor
in return,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

“Don’t you want to know what I want?”

“Nope. I need her to stay matched to Peter so I don’t have to
throw out three weeks worth of work.”

Jack lifted one eyebrow at her. “Whatever I ask for you’ll
do?”

She would probably regret this. “Yes, a favor of your
choosing.”

“Good. Drink your coffee while I save the day,” he said before
going upstairs.

She stood up and walked around his apartment. She was surprised
that his walls weren’t lined with photos of himself and celebrities. He gave the
impression that he’d have lots of those but there weren’t any on display.
Instead there was a painting by the celebrated Texan Charles Beckendorf. The
craggy valleys of the Texas canyons provided a backdrop for a longhorn steer
that stared out at the viewer.

She had one of his paintings hanging in her brownstone in
Brooklyn. As soon as she’d started making real money she had decided to invest
in art and had begun by supporting artists from her home state. She had also
endowed a scholarship for girls from her high school.

She moved past the painting, feeling a little homesick for
Texas after viewing it. Next was a picture she recognized from their high school
yearbook. It was their state champion football team. She didn’t have to search
to find Jack in the photo since she knew exactly where he was—in the second row,
center. His smile was wider than the Texas sky. Coach Masters stood in the
middle of the group and all of the starters crowded around him.

“I’ve never been as happy as I was in that moment,” Jack said,
coming up behind her. He reached around her to run his finger over the trophy in
the picture. “I thought that my life was set.”

She glanced over at him. That photo had been earth-shattering
for her as well. Seeing it had made her think,
This is it;
I’m going to figure out how to hurt him like he hurt me.
But hearing
Jack talk about it with a tinge of wistfulness in his voice, she realized that
even back then his life hadn’t been as perfect as she’d thought.

“What did Deidre say?” she asked. For Willow when life got too
uncomfortable she turned to work. And thank God that she and Jack had a job in
common.

He rubbed the back of his neck and then smiled at her. “She
said she’d give him another chance. I think one of us, maybe you, should pull
Peter aside and tell him to slow down just a little bit. He’s going too fast for
her.”

“But that’s how I get good TV,” Willow said.

“I know, but if he doesn’t he’ll scare her off, and you don’t
want that, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” she said. “It’d be so much easier if we could
script things for them. But I know that the viewers wouldn’t enjoy it as
much.”

“You’re right. Just think—you couldn’t have scripted that
moment when Alex Cannon first held little Bella Ann. That was pure heartwarming
television. You could see him melt,” Jack said.

“Yes, you could. And let’s face it, if Gail and Russell, Alex
and Fiona, and Rikki and Paul could make it work, so can Deidre and Peter. He
must have something that she wants.”

“He must,” Jack said.

Willow glanced at her watch. It was almost nine. She should be
going soon. But first she texted Mona to say that the problem had been solved
and that there was no need for her to find another match for Deidre right
now.

“I guess I should be heading home. We’re shooting early
tomorrow,” she said.

“Before you go…” he said.

Damn, she should have known she wasn’t going to get out the
door without doing this.

“Yes?”

“You owe me a favor, remember?”

Of course she remembered. She had been so desperate to keep
Deidre on the show that she’d acted rashly. Or had she? A part of her realized
that she wanted to owe Jack something so that she’d have an excuse to keep on
seeing him.

“So what exactly do you want from me?”

“A kiss.”

Three

A
kiss.

Really, she shouldn’t be that surprised, and since he asked for
it as a favor, she could just enjoy it guilt free. She’d be lying if she didn’t
admit that she had once spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about
kissing him.

“Okay,” she said, trying hard to sound blasé. But instead her
voice did a squeaky thing and she felt as lame as she had in high school when
he’d asked her to go to the Dairy Queen for a cone.

He laughed, but it wasn’t unkind, and for the first time since
she’d entered his apartment she felt like she was seeing a glimpse of the real
man. Because in that laugh was a hint of her own nervousness. And that made him
human. She got what he’d been trying to explain earlier—that despite the success
and fame he’d found, at heart he was still just a regular guy.

“Are you sure? I don’t want a repeat of when I tried to hug
you,” he said.

She nodded, not trusting her own voice. She wanted to kiss him.
She’d never gotten a kiss back in high school and though she’d moved past living
as that girl she still had an imaginary bucket list that included kissing Jack
Crown.

He leaned down toward her and she tipped her head back, not
realizing until they were this close how much taller he was than her. She closed
her eyes as his hands settled on her shoulders and he drew her in toward him.
Though their bodies didn’t touch, she could feel his body heat.

She felt the warmth of his breath over her mouth first. It had
the pleasant scent of the coffee he’d drunk after dinner. The brush of his lips
over hers was exhilarating; she felt tingles from her lips down her neck and to
the very core of her body.

It was a gentle start but not tentative at all. She sensed he
was taking care not to scare her off.

His mouth opened slowly on hers and she held her breath, trying
to analyze this moment so she could pull it out and examine it later, but
thought was impossible as a wave of sensation rolled over her. He tasted
perfect, and unlike some of the men she’d kissed in the past, there was no
awkward desire to pull back from him.

He feathered his tongue lightly into her mouth as he massaged
her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. Then his tongue went deeper into her
mouth, until shivers of desire coursed through her body.

She felt like she was falling into a world where there was just
Jack. She reached out for something to steady herself. Her hands brushed over
his chest. It was strongly muscled and radiated warmth. Even through the fabric
of his shirt she could feel it. His hands moved down her back to her waist and
drew her in until they were pressed together.

She didn’t want them to fit together the way they did. As if
they were meant to hold each other this way. His kiss continued to inflame her
senses. She loved the way his fingers felt at the back of her neck as they
tangled in her hair.

He lifted his head and sighed. She opened her eyes to look up
at him and was surprised by the look on his face. There was desire, of course,
but something else. He framed her face with his hands and whispered her name
before he kissed her again.

This embrace lacked the restraint of the first time. She
couldn’t think as passion swept over her. She went up on tiptoe so she could
take more of his kiss. She wanted something more from him.

He caressed her neck and shoulders and then slid his hands down
her back to cup her butt, pulling her tightly against him. She gasped at the
feel of his erection pressing into her stomach and moisture pooled in her
center. She had known she wanted him but this was different. This was white-hot
desire and she was desperate to touch more of him.

To have more of him…more of Jack. She slid her hands under his
shirt and up his back. His hands tightened on her as his tongue plunged deeper
into her mouth. He shifted until he leaned back against the wall and she was
supported fully by his weight.

He lifted his head, and she felt cold without his mouth pressed
against hers.

“One kiss…I thought it would be enough, but I want more,” he
said.

She did, too, but this was Jack. And now that his mouth wasn’t
on hers…she pushed away from him and he let her go, his hands trailing over her
hips until they fell to his sides.

“That got out of hand,” she said.

“I don’t think so, but I guess you’re not ready for anything
more,” he said.

She sensed the frustration behind his words and she felt it,
too, but she wasn’t going to rush things with Jack. She still didn’t know how
she felt about him, and instead of making matters clearer, this night had only
served to muddle them.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t rush into this. I thought you were a
shallow me, me, me, guy when I came here tonight,” she admitted.

“And now?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. She wasn’t sure about anything
anymore. Revenge was something that she’d craved and giving it up just wasn’t an
option, but now she understood the saying about it being a dish best served
cold. Because this heat between them melted her resolve.

“That’s why I need some time to think about this,” she
said.

He nodded. “Fair enough. You’ll have plenty of time to mull
things over because I leave for L.A. after we finish shooting in the morning. I
won’t be back in New York for a week.”

She felt a sense of loss at the thought of him leaving and she
knew that she had to get her head straight. It was a good thing he was going
away because right now she’d have to say she was still stupid where he was
concerned. But she’d miss him. And she hadn’t expected to.

“Will you have dinner with me again next Saturday?” he asked.
“Not here, but on a proper date where I pick you up and take you out.”

“Yes,” she said and her voice did that squeaky thing again. She
shook her head. “Hopefully I’ll be able to speak when you see me next week.”

“I like you just the way you are, Willow.”

She wished she could believe that was true, but he didn’t know
her. He hadn’t back in high school and he didn’t now. On the set she treated him
the way she did all talent—with a certain indulgence coupled with disdain. But
he was talking about liking her. How could he? She wasn’t even sure she liked
herself.

* * *

“Ah, you’re just saying that…aren’t you?” There was a
hint of something fragile in her voice.

Jack felt as if Willow was still running away from him, and he
knew no matter what gestures he made to bring her closer, he was treading on
thin ice. He could literally navigate his way on thin ice—he’d been to the South
Pole with explorer and entrepreneur Jefferson Haldon eighteen months ago—but
this was different.

And personal relationships had always been harder for him. Give
him a physical obstacle and tell him it was impossible and he’d find a way to
conquer it. But give him a woman and tell him that she was impossible and he was
stymied. It was frustrating to think he’d come such a long way from Frisco,
Texas, and still hadn’t figured women out.

This woman. Frankly, she was the only one he really wanted to
unravel and strip bare. But every time he thought he had a handle on her she did
something unexpected…like the squeaky voice thing. What did it mean?

Why was this making her vulnerable? He was the one putting
himself on the line…or was he the only one?

“Willow, I’m being honest. There is something about you that
intrigues me. Even when you’re giving me the cold shoulder.”

“I’d put that down to ego,” she said.

“Me, too,” he admitted. “I’m not used to being ignored.”

“Then you don’t know for sure that you like me,” she said.

He crossed his arms over his chest, wondering if honesty was
the key to this woman. Honesty was tricky because the truth wasn’t always as
nice and pretty as people wanted it to be. “Want to know a secret?”

“Sure,” she said.

But there was a guarded look in her eyes, as if she was
expecting him to say something…hurtful? He couldn’t read it. Never had been able
to. The flashes he had of her from high school were just those big eyes of hers
and that guarded expression on her face.

“I’m not sure if I like myself.”

Dammit, where had those words come from? He had meant to feed
her some line about how she couldn’t expect him to like her if she kept him from
truly knowing her. What he couldn’t tell her is that he’d lost the ability to
care about anything but a challenge a long time ago.

“I didn’t expect you to be that honest,” she said. “What’s not
to like about you? You’re charming—”

“I didn’t think you’d noticed,” he said, flashing her a
calculated grin because he needed to get them back on familiar footing instead
of staying here where he felt so damned vulnerable.

“It’s hard not to when you are wooing everyone in sight.”

“That’s my job. I can’t be successful if no one wants to talk
to me. I’m the host.”

“You’re right about that,” she said, tucking a strand of hair
behind her ear. “So it’s just for show?”

He shrugged. “I genuinely like talking to people and hearing
their stories. They fascinate me.”

That hadn’t always been the case. There had been a time in his
life when he’d been so focused on himself he didn’t know others even existed.
But his accident and hitting rock bottom had changed that. He’d needed people
and had been amazed at how many had reached out to help him.

“Me, too. As long as they are moving toward helping me finish
whatever I’m working on,” Willow said. She was driven, and he could respect
that.

“Is work all you ever think about?” he asked. She had always
struck him as a workaholic. Then again, he only saw her in the context of the
set, so he thought he might have it wrong. Now he wasn’t so sure.

She shook her head, but then grimaced. “It is. Even when I’m
out with my friends I’m always thinking of my next project. But you know how it
is in our business. If you take a break for a second someone will pass you by
and that’s it. No one remembers your name.”

“You can take a small break. How about when I get back to the
East Coast you play hooky for one day?” he suggested. He needed to have her to
himself so he could see if she was worth all the crazy she brought to his
life.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I want to give you something you can’t give yourself.”
He wanted to get her to notice him, and charm and expensive gifts weren’t the
key to Willow. He could see that now.

“I don’t know that I want that kind of gift,” she said.

“Too bad. That’s what I’m claiming as my favor.”

“Uh, you already had your favor and it was a smokin’-hot
kiss.”

“Dang, that’s right. Okay, fine, we’ll wait until after our
date or better yet, I’ll make our date a no-talking-about-work one.”

“If that’s what you want,” she said, nibbling her lower
lip.

“I really should be going,” she said.

But she made no move toward the door. She seemed as reluctant
as he was to see this night end. “We didn’t get to really enjoy our coffee since
we had that little work crisis to attend to…want another cup?”

She shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I can’t or I’ll be up
all night.”

“How about seeing where that kiss could lead?” he asked.

“I want to say yes. I think that’s why I’m still here. But I
don’t get why I’m attracted to you,” she said. “It would have been so much nicer
if your kiss tasted gross.”

That startled a laugh out of him and he shook his head. “You
really are one of a kind. Sorry for not being gross.”

She gave him a really tender half smile that let him see how
vulnerable she could be. And it was odd to see that expression on her face
because she was always in charge. Always so in control of herself and her
surroundings, but now he had a glimpse of a different side of her.

“It just makes everything so much more complicated.”

“Surely you’ve had that happen before,” he said. He couldn’t
believe she’d get to thirty and not have found a man she could like kissing.
“Dating is never as simple as we want it to be.”

“I don’t really date,” she admitted. “As you noted earlier I’m
pretty much always all about work.”

“No man asks you out?”

“They do but I’m busy and no one has intrigued me enough—”

“Enough? Enough to what?”

She tipped her head to the side, studying him with that clear
cool gaze of hers. “To risk getting hurt.”

“Not every relationship equals hurt,” he said.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” she said, turning on her
heel and heading toward the door.

“Who hurt you?” he asked. “Was it a lover or your father?”

She glanced back over her shoulder. “It doesn’t really matter.
At least not now.”

* * *

Willow was surprised by how intuitive Jack was and she
didn’t necessarily like it. A fun bet with Nic was one thing; actually letting
Jack past her defenses was something else. She’d meant it when she’d said she
wished he wasn’t a good kisser. She didn’t want to like him.

She understood why Nichole had wanted her to come on this date.
But Willow hadn’t realized how much she had hidden away from her past until now.
The emotions she’d thought she’d forgotten were all there stirring inside of her
and making her say and do things that her common sense said not to.

“I think it does matter,” he said. “I don’t want to fight a
ghost of a man. Tell me the details so I know what I’m up against.”

No way.
She didn’t want to get all
deep and Greek tragedy on him. She always thought of her epic quest for
vengeance as some sort of ancient tale. It made it easier to wait for
opportunities to strike back at Jack. Vengeance wasn’t an instant gratification
process.

“This was our first date,” she said. “You are supposed to be
thinking about asking me out on a second date, not about the other men I’ve
dated.”