Jessie Slaymaker's Rules of Engagement (The Jessie Slaymaker Series Book 2) (17 page)

‘Is this the place?’ Jessie asked as she struggled out of the taxi. Tom had selected a pair of ridiculously high heels for her, heels she’d bought on a whim when she didn’t know if her lost luggage would ever materialise. The shoes, coupled with her dark glasses and an uneven pavement, made the simple task of getting out of a taxi and walking a couple of paces something akin to putting a man on the moon. Not impossible, but far from straightforward.

‘Think so,’ Tom replied, nodding to a guy dressed as a pirate, presumably not his usual garb. Then noticing Jessie was faffing, he effortlessly swooped round to her side of the car, looking all debonaire and swish, every inch a James Bond rake. There was no denying he wore a tuxedo well. He beamed his straight white teeth at her, and he had a glint in his eye which made Jessie briefly wonder why. Then that thought disappeared from her mind as she concentrated all her efforts on navigating her way up a couple of steps.

‘I don’t know how VB does this,’ Jessie muttered under her breath, feeling like an old lady as she leaned on Tom for support.

Tom guided her into the bar and they were led to a high table off to one side. Jessie scanned her surroundings and saw that Tom had brought her to a cool place. She wasn’t sure the fancy dress thing was entirely necessary, but the bar was nice. It was all dark wood and brickwork, and had a nice atmosphere. It was a place where she’d be comfortable whiling away a few hours with Tom until she could go home.

‘What’s the name of this place again?’ Jessie asked, raising her voice at Tom over the music. She was glad to be perched rather than having to cope with being on her stilts, but sitting on a stool meant she had to concentrate on her posture. It was literally impossible to slouch in her tight VB dress, and she fidgeted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position.

‘Sit still,’ Tom scolded. ‘You look great. And to answer your question, it’s called Greene’s. Spelt with an e.’

‘That’s funny,’ Jessie mused, as a waitress placed two glasses of champagne down in front of them.

‘Why?’ Tom asked, taking a sip and pulling a
not bad
face at his drink. Tom was something of a champagne snob.

‘That’s my mother’s maiden name. I know it’s not uncommon, but I haven’t come across it much,’ she commented, taking a sip of perfectly chilled bubbly. Then she took another sip and another. Just to check.

‘You don’t like it?’ Tom asked at her perplexed face. ‘Do you want a different drink?’

‘No, it’s fine. Lovely, in fact. I think it’s my favourite one.’

‘Hmm,’ was all Tom said, as all of a sudden a piece of invisible lint on his tux required his completely undivided attention.

‘Tom,’ Jessie said firmly, studying his every movement. ‘What is this place?’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Tom replied, finally meeting her eye, flicking that piece of imaginary lint away.

‘No, it’s not. But I feel like you’re not telling me something. And don’t answer a question with a question,’ Jessie replied, feeling her irritation levels start to climb.

‘You’re a clever woman, Jessie. Put it together. Your mother’s maiden name, your favourite champagne. Not to mention the countless other Jessie-inspired details around the place that you’ll discover soon enough.’

‘Huh… Jack’s done this?’ Jessie said slowly. It was a half-exclamation, half-question.

‘Don’t sound that surprised when you see him, for God’s sake,’ Tom warned. ‘If I were you, I’d say something like, “Jack, I can’t believe how well you’ve done. I’m sorry we fought. I love you, so let’s not let that Sonia bitch come between us again,” before you smother him in kisses, I suppose. Or something similar would do.’

‘Thanks, Tom,’ Jessie said snippily, as she made ready to leave. She didn’t like the idea of Tom orchestrating her love life.

‘Oh, don’t be missy,’ Tom said, placing a firm hand on her forearm. ‘I did this for your own good. You can’t be mooning around all the time waiting for something to happen to you, when you’ve got unfinished business with lover boy. You’ll have to see him sooner or later.’

‘I suppose,’ Jessie sighed eventually. Maybe Tom had a teeny-tiny point. But that didn’t stop her from shooting him one of her best evil looks, although through her sunglasses the impact was considerably diminished.

But now she had something else to worry about. What would she say to Jack if she saw him? What if he didn’t even want her to be here? It wasn’t like he’d invited her.

‘Oh streuth!’ Jessie exclaimed angrily as she lowered her eyes and tried to become invisible. Something, or rather someone, had provided a monumental distraction from her internal worries over Jack.

‘What’s the matter?’ Tom asked, a note of irritation in his voice.

‘You remember when you said that it was unlikely my boss would be here? Well, she is.’

‘Is she wearing the same dress as you?’

‘No.’

‘So, there’s no problem, then. What has she come as?’ Tom asked, turning around in his chair to try and clock a glimpse of the woman who had been making Jessie’s work life difficult.

‘Barbie,’ Jessie replied, deadpan. That clearly was not what Tom had been expecting her to say, as he spluttered his champagne down his chin.

‘You’re joking,’ Tom said, wiping up his spillage with a napkin. When he’d done choking he looked around again and cast his critical eye over Barbie. Barbie Rachel was chatting away to a circle of girlfriends, clad in a pink PVC minidress. Aside from her blonde locks, she looked the complete antithesis to how she usually dressed for work. ‘Well, that nickname is going to stick,’ Tom added, rolling his eyes.

‘Do you think she’s lovely?’ Jessie asked. She hated to sound so insecure, but if she couldn’t be insecure with Tom, then she couldn’t be insecure for the briefest moment with anyone.

‘Who? Barbie?’ Tom asked, his eyebrows going skywards as he pulled a suitably disgusted face. ‘You must be joking. She looks trampy as hell. Honestly. Barbie… ugh.’

‘You should see her at work. She’s smart and sophisticated. And she has everyone wrapped around her little finger. All she has to do is stick her inflated chest in someone’s eye line and hey presto! She gets whatever it was she wanted. Do you think I’d suit being a blonde?’

‘Don’t you even think about it. You’re… well… you’re…’ Tom said, stumbling to find an adjective.

‘I’m what?’ Jessie asked, filling the gap. ‘Pretty? In a pale and interesting sort of way? Nice?’

‘What I’m trying to say is, she’s not a patch on you, Jesserella. You’re bloody gorgeous and in an infinitely different league altogether than that Barbie girl. Now, are you done fishing for compliments?’

‘Yes,’ Jessie said, feeling only slightly scolded. It was nice to hear a compliment. She hadn’t heard one for what felt like a long time. Even if it did come from one of the most biased men in the world, as far as she was concerned, it was still very welcome.

‘Oh my God. Is that who I think it is?’ Jessie said loudly.

‘Who? What now?’ Tom asked, whipping his head around to follow Jessie’s eye line. When he clocked what she was looking at, his jaw dropped slightly. ‘That stunning beefcake?’

‘Yep, the guy who’s come as Troy. Well, Brad Pitt from the
Troy
movie interpretation. What part did he play again?’ Jessie asked absentmindedly as she tried not to stare at the man’s bulging biceps. They were huge.

‘Achilles,’ Tom replied, his eyes never leaving Mr Achilles as he unashamedly admired the cut of his jib. You know him?’ Tom asked, his eyes widening.

‘Sure do,’ Jessie smiled as she downed the rest of her champagne. ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you,’ she added brightly, slipping off her stool—which was no small feat considering the height of her shoes and the tightness of her frock. She landed and paused for half a second, ensuring she had her balance, before she grabbed Tom in a firm grip and strutted over to Achilles like she owned the place.

‘Jessie, stop. I don’t want to talk to him. I’m too shy. He’s probably not even gay. What will I say?’ Tom whispered angrily to her back as she tugged him across the room.

‘It’s for your own good,’ she snapped back at him. This would serve Tom right for meddling when it came to her and Jack. He was going to get a bit of his own medicine and be forced to talk to Achilles whether he liked it or not.

‘Trey!’ Jessie schmoozed as she reached Achilles and lifted up her sunglasses.

‘Jessie?’ the mountain of man asked hesitantly.

‘You remember me,’ Jessie beamed at him warmly.

‘Of course I remember you,’ Trey replied, scooping her up in a familiar hug. ‘I decided to extend my stay here in Hong Kong and I hoped we would run into each other again,’ he added genuinely.

‘Great costume,’ Jessie said as her gaze fell to some honey-glazed and hyper-defined arm muscles. ‘Trey, this is my friend Tom, from England,’ she said, shaking her head slightly as she remembered why she’d made her brazen dash across the bar. The guy was seriously buff. ‘Tom, this is Trey.’ Achilles and James Bond shook hands, each of them sizing up the other with what could only be classed as unadulterated looks of lust in their eyes.

From his spying position at the bar, Jack surveyed his new empire, clocking all the usual superheroes that rocked up to these kinds of fancy dress parties. He wasn’t going to fight it, but he couldn’t explain for the life of him why the Hong Kong crowd loved a costume party. He’d lost count of the number of Batmen and Spider-Men he’d seen. The men were woefully unimaginative at these kind of things, although to be honest, the women weren’t much better. There were several mandatory sexy nurses knocking around, fluttering their false eyelashes at him, and at least two PVC-clad women had come as Catwoman.

Jack had almost lost hope that the one woman who he did want to flutter her eyelashes at him wasn’t going to come. Then a familiar figure with curves in all the right places walked slowly through the entrance. At least he was pretty sure it was Jessie hiding behind those huge sunglasses. Either that or Victoria Beckham had decided to grace his little bar opening with her presence. What Jack
hadn’t
expected to see was Jessie clinging onto Tom, her supposedly ex-boyfriend’s arm. Of course, he hadn’t expected her to come out solo, maybe with some work colleagues, but he never thought in a million years she’d show up with Tom. As Jack sat there slack-jawed, he wondered what the hell Tom was doing in town. Had he come to be a shoulder for Jessie to cry on? Had they managed to patch things up? They did go way back after all, Jack silently concluded as he swallowed back a lump of frantic panic.

Jack continued to watch Jessie and Tom from afar, trying to figure out if there was more between them than friendship. What with Jessie playing a sulking Mrs Beckham to a tee, he couldn’t tell for sure. She didn’t look overly happy and enthused to be here, that much he could tell.

A little voice in the back of Jack’s mind wondered if Jessie had deliberately brought Tom with her to hurt him. He’d never put her down as vindictive, but all of a sudden he felt unsure.

Five minutes later, Jack watched Jessie gracefully dismount from her stool and stride over, bold as brass, to a Brad Pitt lookalike, embracing him like they were old friends.

‘Jesus,’ Jack muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
That’s that guy off the plane
, he realised, unable to stop a multitude of bad thoughts from entering his mind concerning Jessie and her fidelity towards him. Just how many men did she have in her thrall exactly?

Jack had seen enough. First he’d watched Jessie,
his
Jessie, come into
his
bar with her ex-boyfriend. Now she’d practically thrown herself into the Aussie muscle’s arms. What the hell was she playing at? Jack felt a surge of jealously course through his veins, and he knew he had to stop this now. Whatever game she was playing with his heart, it was over.

Jack silently approached Jessie from behind, balling his hands into fists. The mood he was in, he could have quite easily taken a swing at both of the men she was talking animatedly to.

‘We need to talk,’ Jack said gruffly into Jessie’s ear, grasping her firmly above the elbow. He felt her tense under his touch.

‘If you’ll excuse me for just a moment, gentlemen,’ Jessie said pleasantly to her all-male company before allowing Jack to lead her across the room.

Jack clocked an odd look from Tom as he towed Jessie away. It was a combination of hello and warning. Tom didn’t seem at all surprised to see him though, which told Jack that Tom knew exactly whose bar he’d strolled into that evening.

Jack made a beeline for his office, down a couple of side steps off to one side. Once inside, pliant Jessie disappeared in the blink of an eye, replaced by someone who was clearly very annoyed.

‘Yes? Can I help you?’ she snapped at him, shoving him off her and rubbing her arm where he’d been gripping her.

‘Actually, you can. You can explain to me why the fuck you’ve come to my bar opening with your ex-boyfriend in tow and have subsequently been throwing yourself at that bloke from the plane.’

‘Why? Jealous?’ she asked, clearly challenging him.

‘Yeah. I am,’ he answered, taking a step towards her. He realised his mounting jealously at seeing Jessie in the company of other men was only compounded by the fact that she looked the way she did. She looked amazing.

He reached over and whipped off her sunglasses quickly before she could stop him. To his delight, he saw the fire of anger flare in her eyes, and he knew in that instant that they were far from finished. He took another step towards her, placing a strong arm behind her back and pulling her to him. Jack paused as he drank in the obvious delight in her eyes before he crashed his mouth into hers. She resisted at first, placing her hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away, but after a few seconds it was as if a switch in her flipped, and her mouth and body began to respond hungrily as she pressed herself hard against him.

‘God, you’re amazing,’ Jack breathed heavily into her neck, his wandering hands trying to figure a way to gain access into her form-fitted dress. Seemingly growing impatient, Jessie turned her back on him abruptly.