Possessed By You (Overworld Underground Book 1) (14 page)

I dug my phone out of my purse and stared at it before tapping in Jack's number. Then the next huge question arose. Text or call? I decided a text was less serious. That, plus he couldn't hear the tremble of desperation in my voice.

Hi, this is Emily. I was thinking of getting some dinner, but I don't know of a good place to go. Any recommendations?

I studied the message for a long moment before sending it. It seemed innocent enough. I hoped he would take the bait and save me from a night in PJs and a bathrobe as I spooned ice cream directly from the tub and into my mouth.

Minutes ticked by with no response. I turned the phone screen on and back off to be sure I hadn't accidentally missed anything. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Good lord, it was really starting to bother me, I realized, and turned on the telly to distract myself. A full half-hour later, my phone chimed, and I nearly cried in relief.

There are tons of places. What kind of food?

I didn't even bother waiting the prerequisite ten minutes or more that text etiquette requires when the person you've just texted takes an obscene amount of time to reply.

No preference, really.

A pause of two minutes ensued, though I knew he possibly needed allowances to search his memory or the internet for restaurant suggestions.

A friend and I are going to eat in an hour. Want to join?

"Yes!" I threw both arms straight up in the air. My ploy had worked to utter perfection. Although Dad told me I was a lot like Mum, I knew it wasn't the case. Surely, she would have simply texted someone,
Let's go eat, and bugger your other plans.
I'd never actually seen my mother text anyone, lacking a modern phone and all, but she'd certainly done the equivalent in person.

This time, I forced myself to pause for a couple of moments before replying. I found I suddenly needed to file my fingernails, and pluck an errant eyebrow hair before going back to the phone.

Sure.

He arranged to pick me up outside the flat and I practically sighed in relief. No lonely night for me,
no sir
. Find a man, put him in the friend zone, and Bob's your uncle. I truly did feel a bit bad for using him like this, but Jack seemed a decent sort. While men were utter pigs when it came to dating, they could sometimes be good friends, if for no other reason than they kept on their best behavior in a vain hope that one day their female friend would decide to sleep with them.

Men really are clueless.

I brushed my hair, touched up my makeup, and put on the same boots I'd worn to brunch with Dad, then examined myself in the mirror to be sure I was presentable. I wondered if the boots might be a bit much for going out with a guy friend, but they were so comfortable I decided to leave them on.

Jack pulled up in a silver sedan a few minutes after I walked outside. I reached a hand for the front door handle only to realize someone was already in the passenger seat, although I couldn't see who in the dark. I opened the back door and climbed in.

Jack turned to look at me, an unreadable expression on his face. "Hey, Emily. This is Ana."

A very pretty girl with long dark hair and fair skin turned, smiled, and with a Russian accent said, "I'm Jack's girlfriend. Pleased to meet you."

Chapter 12

Girlfriend?

That pig. He'd been hitting on me all this time and he had a bloody girlfriend? I smiled and shook her hand. She returned a soft wimpy shake that made me want to squeeze her hand until the dainty little knuckles cracked. Not out of jealousy, of course, but just because I instantly disliked her.

"Pleased to meet you," I said. "I love your scarf." Really I did. It looked like silk with little pink hearts on it. I could appreciate a woman's clothing without liking her.

"Thanks." Her eyes didn't seem to smile along with her mouth. She was probably wondering why Jack would pick up another woman to eat with them.

And it was a very good question. I thought back to the times I'd talked with Jack. He'd been very friendly, even offered to pay for lunch, but had he really been hitting on me? Or had he—no—surely he hadn't friend-zoned me first? It took some effort to keep a smile on my face as I contemplated that. Apparently, I had inherited my mother's ego, thinking Jack was falling all over himself for me when in reality he had this stunning girlfriend.

"So, ladies, how about some Colombian food?" Jack didn't wait for an answer, taking off without another word.

"You work with Jack?" Ana asked, her Russian accent light and her English perfectly understandable. She didn't seem to be the mail-order type.

"I do," I said, leaving it at that.

"Do you like Colombian food?" Jack aimed the question at me since I presumed he knew exactly what Ana liked when it came to food and beyond.

"I love it. Especially empanadas." My knowledge of Colombian cuisine was actually rather limited, and I only knew about empanadas because I'd once eaten them with a friend at a Spanish-themed restaurant.

"Arepas with cheese are simply to die for," Ana said, rolling the "r" in "arepas" and shining her bright blue eyes back at me.

We arrived at a rather run-down establishment a few minutes later. Jack didn't seem the least bit worried about the dilapidated environs and held the door open for us. I followed Ana, noting how tall and skinny she was, yet her bum was quite round as opposed to the boy bump some petite girls had. Her breasts swelled against her tight sweater. C-cups at least, I estimated. They couldn't be real. Nobody could be that skinny with those boobs. And her bum had to be padded.

Bitch.

A curvy woman with skin the color of cinnamon greeted us with a happy smile, a few incomprehensible words in Spanish, and guided us to a booth instead of a table. I suppressed a grimace at the sight of the seating.

How awkward
.

Why not a bloody table? It would be impossible to hide my third wheel status by sitting opposite the happy couple, but at least it was better than sitting home alone sucking on Dove bar sticks I managed to scavenge from beneath the couch cushions. I slid in, and was a bit surprised when Ana sat down next to me.

"Going to the bathroom." Jack detoured from the table and headed toward a door in the back.

"How long have you worked with Jack?" Ana's accent thickened a bit.

"Just a couple of weeks."

"And he gave you his number?"

The question made me uncomfortable, but I turned my gaze on her and said, "Yes." Before she could volley another question at me, I posed her a question. "How long have you known Jack?"

"For very long time."

"Years? Months?"

"Much longer than two weeks." Ana smiled, revealing perfect little white teeth, and emphasizing her high cheekbones.

"What brought you to America?"
Human smugglers?
The thought of her cramped in a cargo container on a ship in a storm-tossed sea almost made me smile.

"I took a modeling job here."

"How wonderful. Do you have to starve yourself?"

"I can eat what I want." Ana's eyes gleamed. "And I never work out."

Okay, I really hated her now. I opened my mouth to ask her how much money those boobs of hers cost when I saw Jack coming.

"Hey, ladies," Jack said, sliding in across from us. "Decide what you want to eat?"

"We're just getting to know each other," Ana said. "You did not tell me she was so pretty."

Jack rubbed his hands together. "I'm gonna get something with steak in it."

I wasn't sure if I should respond to the "pretty" comment or not, because I didn't believe her sincerity for a second.

Jack, however, solved the dilemma. "Hey, they have empanadas!" His enthusiasm sounded a bit manic, like someone trying to ward off a catfight by tossing scraps of meat in opposite directions in the hopes the two felines would forget one another.

I ordered empanadas and some kind of chicken soup, figuring it would be safe. Ana ordered a dish that made the waitress give her a once-over before asking if she wanted the half-sized version, speaking in broken English and pantomiming cutting something in half.

"No, I want full size," Ana said. I could have sworn she gave me a triumphant look.

This girl obviously saw me as a threat to her and Jacky-Poo's happily ever after. Jack was doing his best to make small talk and ignore the elephant in the room. And me? I'd just wanted company to keep me from going mental at home.

It's no bloody wonder people warn you to be careful what you wish for.

"You certainly know all the good places to eat," I said after biting into one of the empanadas. It was absolutely delicious. The chicken soup looked a bit frightful, populated as it was by half a chicken with the bones still in, and a whole cob of corn, but it tasted wonderful. "I do believe you're now my official culinary consultant."

Ana paused in her gluttonous attack on a large flat piece of beef over beans and rice to give Jack a venomous look. "You're so sweet to help new girl."

I was beginning to think when she left definite articles like "the" out of her sentences it meant I'd scored a particularly brilliant point. "Jack is very sweet." I unleashed my full British accent. "He's helped me out immeasurably since I started working at OnTech."

Ana stabbed her beef with a fork, and slashed it with a knife while her eyes raked over Jack. "He has very tender heart. Every time he sees homeless person, he gives them money. I tell him it is a waste, but he cannot help himself, I think."

Did she just equate me to a bum?

Before I could retaliate, Ana gave me a concerned look. "Emily, you are not eating enough. I know you must worry about putting on weight with your"—she looked me up and down—"stocky frame. Perhaps you should avoid starches."

I shoved an empanada in my mouth to keep my lips from curling into a snarl. I smiled as I chewed to show her I didn't have a care in the world about all the potatoes and starchy goodness inside the fried shell.

"Did you hear that Jameson is thinking of selling the company?" Jack said, almost comical desperation in his eyes.

I shook my head, unable to speak due to the aforementioned stuffing of face with an empanada.

Ana narrowed her eyes. "Will that hurt your job?"

"I doubt it," he said. "The company wouldn't be able to do much without programmers. They tried outsourcing a long time ago, but some of our customers won't buy our products if they know the code was handled by a firm outside the country."

I took a gulp of water to wash down the food. "When did you hear about this?" If Jameson really was planning to sell the company, I doubted the intern position would stick around. The thought of losing my job felt like a blow to my stomach.

"I heard Kevin talking about it." Jack shrugged. "Probably just rumor. From what I know, the company is doing great right now."

"I hope you are certain," Ana said.

As if she cared about anything but his paycheck. Jack was handsome. But Ana seemed like the type who could land a bigger fish with a fatter wallet if she put her mind to it. Or maybe I was wrong. She certainly was protective.

When the waitress came with our bill, I noticed Jack didn't say a thing about paying for me. Not that I wanted him to or anything, but a part of me wished he'd offered just to throw that in Ana's face. I used some of the cash Dad had given me to pay for my part. Jack took out his wallet and looked at Ana for a fleeting moment before putting down enough cash to cover the rest of the bill.

"Let's grab some drinks," Jack said, as we left the restaurant and got into his car.

I almost refused, but the thought of going back into my cold lonely flat made me shudder. It was still early, only nine, and I simply didn't want to face the silence alone. Jack took us to a bar in a place called the Virginia Highlands. Young guys in slacks and button-up shirts who appeared as if they'd just left fraternity meetings hobnobbed with girls in pastel sweaters and skirts.

Jack forced his way through the throng at the bar while I followed in his wake. Since my credit card had a ridiculously low limit, I paid for a martini with more of the cash Dad had given me while Jack ordered for Ana and himself. By the time we got away from the bar and back to the gathering area, Ana had talked a couple of guys out of their seats and patted one of the cushions for Jack.

Fine. I have no problem standing
.

Jack scooted his butt against Ana, sliding her over in her chair so they could share it, and motioned for me to take the empty seat. A wave of gratitude swept over me, and it was all I could do not to give Ana a smug look. The seats were more like padded divans with plenty of room for more than one person to sit, but I considered it a win nonetheless.

The roar of the crowd mixed with loud music forced us to shout to be heard by each other. With Ana on the other side of Jack, it was all but impossible to hear her, a fact for which I was immensely grateful.

After her first drink, Ana went to the bathroom, though not before telling Jack what she wanted for her next drink.

"She's not really my girlfriend," Jack said the minute she was out of earshot.

I raised an eyebrow to highlight the skepticism I felt over that statement. "She certainly seems to think she is."

"We used to date." He shrugged. "I didn't expect her to be like this after meeting you."

A part of me felt very pleased to have caused Ana's reaction. "Well, she seems very sweet," I said.

Jack burst into laughter. "Oh man, you haven't seen her temper yet." He stood. "You want anything else?"

I gave him some money and let him go to the bar while I saved our seats. He returned a few minutes later, but still no Ana. I looked around, but with all the bystanders it was difficult to see.

"Would you check if she's still in the bathroom?" Jack said.

"Of course." I set my drink on the table between our chairs and headed that way. I hadn't gone far when I spotted the tall girl, a drink in hand, as a guy with his back to me chatted her up.