Prove Me Wrong (12 page)

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Authors: Gemma Hart

BOOK: Prove Me Wrong
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              Jonah took a sip of the cheap wine and gave a casual shrug. “But the good thing of being an adult is the ability to make your own family with whom you can share those priceless moments with.” Jonah gave them a warm nod. “Clearly, Miss Daniels has chosen well.”

              Joel grinned in pleasure with the rest of the table blushing in appreciation.

              And for the next hour, Jonah continued to charm the pants off of everyone at the table until they would’ve gladly taken a bullet for the man. Eventually, with gentle suggestions, Jonah encouraged everyone to find their cabs back home.

              “It
is
late,” Joe said looking down at his watch. “Mary, wanna share a cab?”

              Everyone rose, deciding who would ride in whose cab and which route would be best to get home.

              Joel looked down at me. “Boss? Wanna share a cab?”

              Before I could answer, Jonah replied, “I can take Miss Daniels home.”

              Joel gave Jonah a grin, automatically feeling good whenever he heard the billionaire’s charming voice. Jonah had done a thorough job in pulling everyone under his spell.

              “See you tomorrow, boss!” Joel said as he clambered back up the stairs.

              I watched in slight desperation as Joel and the rest of the team disappeared.

              I turned around and stared at Jonah.

              “What was all that about?” I asked finally, now that we were alone. The dim restaurant lights glowed warmly about us.

              “I’m sorry about the papers,” he said, keeping his eyes pinned on mine. “You know that I would never have wanted any of that.”

              I looked down at the table before nodding. I did know that. If for no other reason that he must be tired of all the constant press he got. He would never take pleasure in having my name splattered across the papers in conjunction with his.

              “Also,” he continued, reaching out and gently putting a hand on top of mine. I tried to pull back but he held on, forcing me to look up at him. “I had nothing to do with the Su Lo Designs contract.”

              I looked up at him probingly. “Really?” I asked him.

              He nodded. “Really.” He gave a small smile. “You got that all on your own, sweetheart.”

              My heart skipped a beat at seeing that once familiar warmth in his eyes. Hearing the endearment spoken in his deep voice made heat ripple within me.

              I tried feebly to pull my hand away again. I shook my head. “Your fiancée…” I mumbled suddenly, remembering the cold judgmental look of the raven haired socialite.

              Jonah snorted. “Jesus, you really must’ve been busy holed up working to have missed that press shitstorm,” he said. He had a bit of a wry smile curling the corner of his lips but I saw that his eyes were sincere. “Vanessa and I were finished months ago. I haven’t seen her in nearly a year.”

              My brows furrowed. It made no sense. If their engagement had been so easily broken, why had he come to the store that day in that dramatic fashion to—             

              My thoughts were interrupted by Jonah suddenly rising to his feet. He reached his hand out towards me. I instinctively put my hand in his, watching it be swallowed up by his large fingers.

              “Come on, let me take you home,” he said, pulling me to my feet.

              But I resisted a little, keeping myself in my seat. I fixed him with a look. “Only home,” I said firmly. “You’re taking me straight to my apartment.”

              “Only home,” he replied solemnly. “Scout’s honor.”

              I couldn’t help but chuckle. I doubt Jonah was ever in the Boy Scouts. He seemed too rebellious for something like that.

              I looked around the empty restaurant as we exited. “I didn’t know this place was opened this late,” I remarked. “I thought they closed earlier.”

              “They do,” Jonah said simply as he held the door open for me. “But I asked them to keep it open for a few more hours. I wanted to make sure I got to speak with your friends first.”

              So he had come in with a plan. He had waited a few hours to let our group celebrate and relax. Then once we had had some fun, he had come in by himself and purposely sat far away to highlight his aloneness. Once invited to sit at our table, he had made sure to immediately fix any damage that had been done by the press. None of it had been directly his fault but he had taken responsibility for it all the same.

              My throat almost choked at the thought and detail that had gone into his scheme. It made me feel as if I was speaking to the same Jonah I had known a year ago. The one that had made me laugh in the day and moan at night.

              Outside on street level, a sleek black sedan waited for us. Jonah opened the door for me and I slid in, feeling the hesitation and fear in my heart melt a little.

Chapter
Fifteen
Clara

              “That was still a sneaky thing to do,” I said through my teeth as I smiled for photos.

              “It was a necessary thing to do,” Brenda said, also through her teeth as she smiled on the sidelines.

              We were at a press event. Su Lo Designs was holding a press event to announce all the designers they had recently signed contracts with. Two other designers stood next to me, beaming, as photographers snapped photos of us.

              Each of us was standing next to one piece of our own designs. I stood next to a small side table I had made. The other two designers looked out into the sea of photographers proudly. And proud they should be; signing with Su Lo was no easy feat. They only took on a handful of designers every few years.

              After the photo session was over, there was a small reception of press, other buyers there just to congratulate, and various celebrities both in the entertainment world and the design world. I had spotted a few famous fashion designers as well.

              It was an exclusive event but small in size.

              Standing next to Brenda, holding a glass of champagne, I sighed as another well wisher walked away. I was not good at the mingling and schmoozing designers often had to do.

              “He would’ve found a way to meet with you regardless,” Brenda said, picking up our conversation. “It was better that it was in a controlled and private environment.”

              “Controlled?” I said, turning to her. “It was a public restaurant filled with my friends.”

              Brenda gave me a patient but slightly exasperated look. “Did you see any other customers while you were there?”

              I thought about it. Surely there had been other customers while we had been eating. But the more I thought about it, I realized there hadn’t been. It had just felt like it because our party had been so large.

              Brenda gave a satisfied smirk. “See? He probably had made sure no one else had come into the restaurant after you kids. He made sure no one else was around in case anything was misunderstood,” she said. Then in a gentler tone, she said, “He was trying to do right by you, honey. You know that right?”

              I took a sip of my champagne, not answering. But of course I knew she was right. But the question was, why? Why was he suddenly doing this for me? And after the dramatic break up from a year ago? Why the change of heart?

              And the most important question: could I trust him?

              I sighed. “I have a headache,” I murmured. “These events always stress me out.”

              Brenda squeezed my arm in support. “Just a couple more hours,” she said. “Su Lo knows press like this drives interest and sales. The more your name is out there, the better.”

              “I don’t need to be here for my name to be here,” I whined as I took a sip of my champagne for extra courage.

              Brenda opened her mouth to say something but froze, her mouth still agape, as she caught sight of something over my shoulder. Suddenly a small smile began to curl at her lips and I saw the corners of her eyes wrinkle in amusement.

              She looked at me suddenly with a knowing warmth. “Well, something tells me you’ll soon have a lure to keep you here,” she said. And with a final squeeze to my arm, she disappeared into the crowd.

              Before I could chase after my moral support, a deep voice behind me said, “You seem to be quite the superstar today.”

              I whirled around and saw Jonah standing behind me in a tailored suit that looked custom made for his tall broad body.

              My eyes widened. I heard people twittering like mad behind him, just as surprised by his appearance as I was.

              “What are you doing here?” I asked. This was a closed press event. But then again, I realized, where
couldn’t
Jonah Lowell get in?

              He gave me a soft smile that nearly melted my spine. “I came here to support the newest star in the home goods world.”

              Cameras began flashing around us. I knew they were taking photographs of us. I knew I should push him away and remove myself so nobody misunderstood our relationship.

              But after seeing how carefully he had taken care of my reputation last night and how good he looked today, I couldn’t find it within me to do it. I was surprised to find myself
glad
he was here. I
wanted
him here.

              I bit my lower lip, a smile playing on my own lips. “Then don’t you think you’re being a little forward?” I said. “There are a lot of people that have been waiting to meet me. It’s rude to just jump the line.”

              A grin flashed across Jonah’s chiseled face, instantly transforming him into that tantalizing playboy that the papers titled him as.

              “I’m afraid when it comes to you, Miss Daniels,” he said, taking my hand, “I can’t help but always be a little forward.”

              Cameras flashed around us. People whispered and stared in our direction. I knew we were causing a flurry of attention. Jonah Lowell hadn’t been invited to this event. Which means he came for one reason and one reason only.

              But he had done his duty. He had tried his best to rectify the first stories in the press and my own friends. He showed the world that I was a respected designer in my own right.

And now he was recreating the story by his terms. Here was the billionaire, come to pay court to the star designer on her turf. It made it look as if he, the playboy, couldn’t help himself but crash the event the sought after designer was at.

It gave me the power.

I looked up at him, a smile playing at my lips.
Just as he had probably planned.

“Care to show me your piece on display?” Jonah asked politely.

I gestured towards the small stage where three pieces were on display. “Follow me,” I said, turning towards the stage.

A deep voice murmured behind me, “Anywhere.”

I shivered in response but continued walking.

At the stage, Jonah gave a very convincing portrayal of man enthralled by side tables as he carefully examined mine. As we stood, admiring the table, he said to me in a voice only I could hear, “Knocking them dead as usual, kid?”

I suppressed another smile. “Trying to,” I said. I took another sip of the champagne. “But I’m not a fan of these kind of mingling events.”

He gave a sidelong look at the glass in my hand. “I’m surprised you’re still a fan of champagne.”

I had to hold back a snort of amusement. “It’s my liquid courage. I can’t abandon it just because of one bad night.”

He turned to me, looking down fully at me with those powerful dark eyes. “Clara,” he said, making me shiver hearing my name spoken by him. “Look around. You don’t need to mingle. You don’t need to charm. You’ve got these people hook, line, and sinker. All you need to do is be you.”

It was as if his words were like strong hands that pulled my shoulder back, my back upright, and my chin high. I could feel myself feeling a little bolder and a little stronger with each word.

“I wanted to say…thank you,” I said softly. “For last night.” At Don Maggio’s. I realized the care he had taken that night on my behalf.

Jonah shook his head. “It was the least I could do.”

I looked around the room. Although the mini uproar Jonah’s entry had stirred had died down some, I could see that we were still attracting quite a few looks. And cameras were still busily snapping away at us.

“Are you sure you want to stay here?” I asked. “There are a lot of cameras here, even for a small press event. I know that the last time you had gotten in the press for a woman it hadn’t ended…prettily.”

He pressed his lips lightly, as if giving me a considering answer. I had done my research, even though I had sworn to leave everything related to Jonah alone. I had seen the smear campaign Vanessa had created against Jonah after their separation.

“Press comes with the territory of the Lowell name, I’m afraid,” he said, flicking a dismissive glance at some of the photographers. “So I try to use it to the best of my advantages. Whether it’s photographing me entering one of my work sites in promotion or…”

He turned slightly so he could give the cameras the full benefit of his electric smile.

“To make sure one designer outshines the rest, thanks to a certain business mogul’s infatuation,” he finished, looking down at me heatedly.

My cheeks warmed.

“Infatuation?” I echoed.

“Trust me,” he said. “It doesn’t require much acting at all.” He turned me around, guiding us back towards the crowd. “Or any.”

Following Jonah’s lead, I was able to chat with more of the room. He made sure that I introduced myself to the leading members of the press, ensuring good coverage of my name and work. I chatted with some of the other buyers and designers. I spoke haltingly (while mentally squealing with excitement) with a top fashion designer who said she loved some of my chairs and was waiting to put in an order for some more.

We were just leaving another buyer when a journalist walked straight into me without looking, spilling his red wine across my peach satin dress.

Immediately, Jonah pulled the journalist away from me while pulling me simultaneously closer to him.

“Oh my god,” the journalist said in horror as he looked at the blossoming stain that crossed the entire front of my dress. “I am
so
sorry, Miss Daniels! I wasn’t watching where I was going—”

“Clearly,” Jonah growled coldly.

The journalist shrank back a little. “I’m really sorry,” he said. But as he spoke, I could see him reach around for a camera that was slung behind him. He had made a genuine mistake but no use in wasting a good shot of a designer in a ruined dress. I was horrified and disgusted.

Jonah was neither. He was angry.

              He stepped towards the man. “Take one more photo the rest of the day and I promise you I will buy out whatever piece of shit rag you work for and destroy you,” he said in a low lethal voice that left the journalist frozen in fear, the camera hanging uselessly in his hands.

              Before I could figure out what to do, Jonah quickly led me to a side room that was normally used for storage. But at the moment it was empty save for a few scattered chairs and an empty crate or two.

              Once the door was shut behind us, Jonah turned around and assessed the damage.

              “That dress is ruined,” he said simply, looking at the severity of the wine stain. The journalist had spilled what looked like an entire glass of the stuff down the front of my dress.

              I plucked at it wetly. “You’re telling me,” I said. As much as I hated being out in front of press, I would’ve been frozen in fear if I had been left alone when that accident had happened. And god knows how many ridiculous photos would’ve been taken of me in a dripping dress, looking stunned and stupid.

              Thank god Jonah had been there with enough presence of mind to quickly shield me under his arm and take me away into a secluded room.

              Jonah shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around me. “I can get you out the side exit,” he said, holding the jacket tightly around me, pulling me in towards him. “There shouldn’t be any photographers in that direction.

              The jacket smelled of him. That spicy, manly scent. I inhaled deeply. God, I had missed him so much. I had denied it and denied for a year but smelling this familiar and warm scent, it brought back just how much I had missed him.

              I looked up at him, my heart pounding. I wasn’t sure what had changed in him but something definitely had and I could feel my heart opening towards him.

              With him holding his jacket around me, pulling me close, we were just breaths away from each other.

              “Jonah, I—”

              Before I could finish whatever it was I had wanted to say, his mouth descended on mine, his lips crushing fiercely against mine. Immediately I yielded to him, aware just how much I had been longing for this exact kind of touch.

              His tongue plunged deeply into my mouth, taking my breath away quite literally. He tightened his hold on his jacket, keeping me imprisoned within its silky bounds. He yanked me closer and I could do nothing but follow his lead.

              His mouth explored mine with a newness and a familiarity. The dichotomy was dizzying. His lips, his taste, were all so achingly familiar and yet the passion and ferocity with which he kissed me felt brand new and exhilarating.

              Finally, we broke away, both a little breathless. My heart was pounding a mile a minute. Taking my courage in my two hands I looked up and said, “Jonah, I want to talk.” I took in a deep breath. “I want to talk with you.”

              His eyes warmed as if he had been waiting for me to say those very words for weeks. He wrapped an arm securely around me. “Alright,” he said, his voice deep and gentle.

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