Driven to Date (9 page)

“She actually canceled on me.” I grimaced, waiting for him to salute me then hit the road.

Instead, a small line appeared between his brows. “Are you disappointed?”

“Not really,” I said, discovering it was true. “I just feel bad that I dragged you out for nothing.”

He rubbed my arm. “Then you’d better make it up to me on the dance floor.”

“You’re going to stay?” I peered up at him, wondering if he hadn’t come tonight just as a favor. Maybe, just maybe, he
wanted
to be here with me. My heart rate kicked up a notch as the corners of my mouth turned upward. “That’s . . . nice.”

“You’re starting to see I’m a nice guy. Progress.” He thrust a hand to his chest, making me laugh. Then he gestured toward the guy who was still dancing with Ginger. “Greg and your friend seem to be hitting it off.”

“Greg?” My eyes narrowed as the realization sank in. Ryan wasn’t staying to spend time with me. He couldn’t ditch his friend.

Ryan sipped his beer, then glanced at me. “Uh-oh. The scowl is back. Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” I shook my head, knowing those sexy hazel eyes had distracted me. The comfort of his arm around me wasn’t helping either, so I stepped away. “How do you know Greg?”

“Grade school.” His brows came together when I moved away, but he merely took another sip of his beer. “Greg lives in San Diego, and flew up for an interview this morning at Marmaduke Medical Center. If all goes well, he’ll be moving to Sac.”

I nodded, then spotted Sarah making her way over to us, bringing a man in tow. “Jill, look who I ran into.”

A blond, beefy guy appeared before me, and I recognized him from the lounge at the Geoffries hotel. “Bud. Nice to see you again.”

“The pleasure is mine.” He smiled, revealing straight white teeth, then eyed me up and down. “You are looking just as gorgeous as ever.”

My mouth curved upward. “Well, thank you.”

Ryan stiffened beside me. “And how do you two know each other?”

“He bought Jill a drink last weekend,” Sarah said, matter-of-factly.

I turned and glared at Sarah, but she just shrugged as Ginger and Greg walked over and joined us.

Bud crossed his (very) muscular arms. “Then I asked Jill to run away with me, but she turned me down. You must be the boyfriend, who’s keeping the woman of my dreams away from me.”

Ryan eyed Bud’s outstretched hand, before gripping it in a way that appeared more firm than necessary. “That’s correct.”

Noticing Greg’s wide eyes at Ryan’s comment, I wrinkled my nose. “I’d like to point out that Ryan’s not
keeping
me from anyone. I make my own decisions.”

“But I don’t see a ring on your finger.” Bud’s gaze lifted from my hand and he turned his attention back to Ryan. “You plan on making it official?”

Ryan’s horrified expression spoke volumes, so I looked at Ginger and then Sarah. “We about ready to head home?”

“Uh, sure.” Sarah slipped her arm through mine, then led me several feet away. “I would rather stay and watch these two guys duel it out over you. F.Y.I.”

“Ryan’s my boss.” I rubbed my forehead, knowing nothing could ever happen with him. “He’s the partner’s nephew.”

“And you like him.” She put her hand on my shoulder, and leveled me with a look. “Admit it.”

I shook my head. “He’s not my type.”

She laced her fingers together in prayer position. “He’s
every
woman’s type. And he likes you, Jill. Give him a chance.”

I glanced over at Ryan, who was talking intently with Greg and Ginger. “All I want to focus on right now is getting back on the partner track. Love doesn’t last forever, anyway. Look at my parents.”

A wide grin spread across Sarah’s face. “Did you say love?”

I crossed my arms. “You know what I mean.”

“I think I do.” She smirked, then turned as everyone joined us.

“Greg and I thought it would be fun to get a snack at the diner around the corner.” Ginger gave me a meaningful look. “Do you guys want to come?”

I squinted, trying to decide if she wanted us to join them or not. “No?”

A relieved look spread across her face. “Since I picked you up, Ryan offered to drive you home.”

“Very sweet of you, Ryan.” Sarah stretched her arms above her head, then gave Ginger and me hugs. “Since I have my car, I’ll head out. Thanks for the fun.”

Ryan’s gaze met mine, and my stomach flipped.

I was so in trouble.

Chapter Seven

In the parking garage, Ryan pressed a button on his key ring and the rear lights flashed on the black BMW with new plates. He opened the passenger door and I slid in. Inside, I took a deep breath, and inhaled the combination of leather and new-car scents. My brows pinched.

Ryan got a new car, my job, and his friend up for the weekend, while I was stuck pretending to have a boyfriend so my potential new boss would hire me.

My life was golden. Not.

My head fell back against the headrest, and I shut my eyes. I’d go home, get some sleep, and start fresh in the morning—maybe afternoon.

The driver’s door opened and I heard him slide into his seat, and that delicious spicy scent wafted up my nose. I gave him a side-glance. “Your date duty was over. I could’ve taken a cab.”

He started the car, and the engine purred to life. “Am I making it harder for you to hate me?”

Yes. “No.”

He turned my way, then leaned toward me. His eyelids hooded, just like they had right before he kissed me last time.

My belly fluttered, and I held my breath. . . .

But he reached past me, pulled the seatbelt across my lap, and clicked it into place. “Safety first, buttercup.”

“Thanks.” I let out my breath, frazzled that I’d forgotten my seatbelt, since I was religious about buckling up. My mind was ready for this night to be over, even though my body wanted so much more. I waited for the car to move. When we remained parked, I twisted to see what the hold up was. “Why aren’t we rolling?”

“I don’t know where you live.” He brushed a lock of hair back from my face, like somehow he had needed to touch me. “We were having a good time inside. What happened?”

My eyes burned, so I immediately closed them, and faced forward. “Get onto J Street, and hang a left at forty-third.”

With a sigh, he thrust us in reverse, then sped off. We arrived at my house in less than ten minutes. Ryan got out first, then I pushed my door open, and we ambled up the walkway in silence. A cool breeze blew by, and my bare arms prickled.

He put his arm around me. “Cold?”

“Tired.” Drained. Worn out. Like my heart had been run over by a Ferrari.

I felt his gaze on me as I reached into my pocket for the keys. A war waged inside me. I knew I should unlock the house, run inside, then slam the door behind me. But for some reason my body hovered on the doorstep, unable to insert the key into the lock and end this night.

Finally, I lifted my lashes. “Thanks for going out tonight.”

“It wasn’t exactly an imposition.” He laced his hand through mine, rubbing his thumb in soft circles that had my insides doing flip-flops.

My breath caught. “You don’t have to hold my hand. There’s nobody here to witness it.”

“We’re here.” He lifted my chin, then lowered his head slowly until his lips brushed mine.

Tingles flashed across my chest, then turned to raging fire as he nudged my mouth open, and brushed his tongue against mine. He teased my lips again, and repeated this method several times before my keys dropped to the porch with a loud
clank
.

I threaded my fingers through the back of his hair. As his mouth flirted with mine, teasing and tasting, he ran his thumb along my jawbone leaving a trail of heat along his path. Then he slipped his hand behind my neck, massaging the base of my skull in slow circles that matched his delicious kisses.

After heavenly minutes, his mouth stilled against mine, and he placed soft kisses across my cheek before enveloping me into his arms. He gave me a gentle squeeze, before releasing me. Then he planted one last kiss on my lips, and whispered. “Good night.”

“Good night,” I gasped, barely able to get the words out as I gazed into those heavy-lidded hazel eyes. Feeling like I was floating, he bent down and picked up the keys I’d forgotten I’d dropped. I slowly turned, fumbled to unlock the door, then slipped inside.

Unable to stop myself, I scurried over to my front window, and peered out between the wooden slats of my plantation shutters. I watched him walk down the path, open his car door, then disappear inside. His headlights came on, then he sat there a moment fiddling with something, before he pulled away from the curb and sped down the street.

Beep! Beep!

My heart pounded as my cell went off. Had he decided this was a huge mistake? Had I scowled one time too many? With shaky hands, I pulled my phone from my pocket, then ran my finger across the screen:
Sweet dreams, buttercup. I’ll be thinking of you.

Me too
, I typed back, and meant it.

****

I arrived at the office Monday morning wearing my favorite black, pinstriped pants suit. The suit was symbolic since I’d worn it the day the partners had denied me the promotion. It was essential that I move back into professional mode, because that’s who I was, and that’s what I enjoyed. No more complaining. No more pity party. Just good, old-fashioned, hard-working Jill to make myself feel right again.

It would be a little challenging on only a few hours of sleep, since I’d cozied under my covers and relived Friday night’s kiss over and over in my head until the wee morning hours. Ryan had texted me on Saturday, then again on Sunday. He was visiting family all weekend, and said that he’d see me at work. I’d had a ton of catch up work to do thanks to my going out Friday night, but it was weird. Usually, I happily took a break from a guy. But with Ryan, out of sight was definitely not out of mind.

I strode through the glass entry door to Corbett, Gray & Shaw at eight a.m. The receptionist was already on the phone. She twirled her gray and black, peppered hair as she spoke quietly into the receiver. Personal call.

Ruth covered the mouthpiece with her hand, and gave me a guilty look. “Good morning, Jill.”

“Good morning, Ruth.” I nodded. The old me would’ve frowned at an obviously unimportant personal call. But, after the last two weeks, I figured she should take all of the personal calls she wanted, because if Stan’s cousin needed a receptionist job, he wouldn’t think twice about booting Ruth out.

I strode past Scott Broderick’s office, gripping my briefcase in my hand. I spotted Valerie leaning her hip against his doorjamb. She wore a red, knit shell over tight white slacks, and her hair tossed over one shoulder.

As she passed by, Val met my eyes with a look that said ‘I have a secret’. Her bow-like mouth puckered and her nose twitched. “Hi, Jill.”

A dreaded feeling came over me. Could she know about Friday night? Maybe Ryan had played basketball with Scott and let something slip to the team. Would my name be passed around Corbett, Gray, & Shaw like in a men’s locker room? My legs felt like jelly, but I kept my face blank as I nodded in her direction. “Morning, Val.”

I rushed to my office, plopped into my chair, then dropped my briefcase with a
thud
. Really, what was the likelihood that they were talking about me? I unbuttoned my suit jacket. My power suit. Must show control. Must get back into work mode. True, my career had sunk deeper than the Titanic, but it had nowhere to go but up. And I was nothing, if not motivated.

Time to make things happen at work. Like I used to. Now was the opportune moment to bring my career back from the dead. As of today, I’d be asking for, no
demanding
a raise. One so big it would take the edge off them hiring Ryan for my job. Then, I’d (hopefully) be hired at McKenzie of McKenzie, Atkins, Haugan, & Hall on Friday and could leave with my head held high.

I turned on my computer, then checked messages to see if Stan had responded to my Friday email. No dice. Not a great start to my week.

I unlocked my briefcase and pulled out the Somerset files. Despite Ryan’s picayune interference, this was my case. My biggest case. The trial was only a month away and my client was counting on me. I thought about Marie Somerset, who’d filed a wrongful death action against Peter Perkins. Perkins was a Sacramento lobbyist who had driven his SUV into Stanley and Marie Somerset’s compact car. Marie’s husband died a day later as a result of his injuries from the accident.

I heard a rustle in the doorway and looked up to see Sarah enter, drop the weekend mail into my in-box, and turn to leave without so much as a “good morning.”

“Sarah, would you sit down for a moment?” I closed the Somerset file, wondering what was with her tightly wound face. “Close the door behind you.”

She shut the door, took a seat in the black leather chair, and crossed her legs.

“Something’s bothering you,” I said. Even though that was obvious, I figured I should spell it out just in case. Then, I waited. My specialty when questioning a witness was to state the obvious then wait. Nine times out of ten, the witness would explain himself without ever realizing he hadn’t been asked a question.

Sarah wasn’t falling for it. She simply crossed her arms.

I sighed. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re not going to like it.” Sarah kept her eyes level with mine. “In fact, you might not speak to me ever again.”

“Of course I’ll speak to you. You’re my assistant.” For some reason it felt weird saying that. “And my friend.” There, that was better. “So spill.”

She grimaced, then stared at the ceiling. “Bud and I have been seeing each other all weekend.”

“Bud?” I asked, wondering who he was and why I’d care. Then it clicked. “Oh,
Bud
.”

“I’m a horrible friend.” She started wringing her hands. “He totally tried to pick up on you first. But then I went to the restroom at The Oasis after you all left. When I came out, he offered me a drink. Then we danced. Then we went to Six Flags Discovery Kingdom on Saturday, then the Sacramento Zoo on Sunday.” She gestured with one hand as she spoke. “You know how I
love
animals.”