Shameless (5 page)

Stopping in front of her, he held out his hand. “I’m John Everest.”

Shaking it, she looked him straight in the eye and said, “Sorry. You should have picked Door Number Two.” She tapped the press tag on her chest. “I’m here to work, not play.”

Damn, she was cool. He gave her his most disarming smile. “Well, you know what they say about all work and no play.”

Her answering smile didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. “Go find yourself a plaything, Mr. Everest,” she said for his ears only. “I’m busy.”

Adele came up behind him. “Hey, you two,” she said in a scolding tone. “I’m not opposed to intimate little conversations, but the rest of us would like to be in on this, you know?” She laughed and moved between the couple. She glanced at the tag on Sam’s chest then wagged a finger at John. “John, you naughty boy, she’s not a member of our audience. She’s with the press. You can’t have her.”

Sam shot him an “I-told-you-so” look, smiling smugly. Not removing his gaze from her face, he said, “I was told I could choose anyone in the room.”

A woman from a nearby table said, “That’s not fair. She didn’t buy a ticket.”

Sam glanced over to see an attractive but overweight woman staring at her with envy. She wanted to tell her a man like John Everest would never look past a couple of extra pounds, he’d never get to know the woman behind the externals, having met his type many times during her heavier days. She felt a new surge of dislike toward him. She smiled at the woman before turning to Adele.

“She’s right. It wouldn’t be fair to everyone who bought a ticket if Mr. Everest chose me. I’m flattered,”
gag
, “but I’ll have to decline.” She expected to see a frown on John’s face, instead he wore a cocky grin. Bastard.

“I’ll tell you what, Adele,” he said. “How about I pay for her ticket?”

“Uh, that won’t be necessary,” Sam said.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you’ll pay for it?”

He knew damn well that’s not what she’d meant.

“I’ll pay double the price of the ticket.”

Adele whooped and addressed to her audience. “Boy, he’s persistent, isn’t he?”

Sam wanted to kill him. She stepped closer to him. “Are you trying to
buy
me?” she muttered between clenched teeth.

“Yes,” he whispered back. He turned to Adele. “I’ll pay triple the price of her ticket.” The audience roared. “If she turns that down, these charities are out 300 bucks.” He met Sam’s eyes again, daring her to say no.

She was about to tell him exactly where he could stick his 300 bucks, when she met the eyes of that overweight woman in the crowd, who would probably give a month’s pay to go out with a man like John Everest. If Sam turned him down, it would be a slap in the face to this woman and all the others in this room. Taking a deep breath and shooting a dagger-filled look at John, she said, “Now how could I possibly say ‘no’?” She hoped the smile she gave him was as sickeningly sweet to see as it was to wear.

The audience applauded as Sam followed Adele to the stage with
him
right behind her. Adele directed her to the stool John had previously occupied. He moved in close behind her, not touching, but his body heat radiated into her back. The big man on the next stool chuckled softly.

Adele stood in front of them. “I’m sure our audience would like to know what kind of woman caught the eye of Bachelor Number 6. Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?” She pushed the microphone in front of Sam.

Sam forced a smile. “My name is Sam Rossi and I work for the
Statesman
.”

“A woman of few words,” Adele said to the audience. To Sam, “How do you feel about landing such a hot date?”

“I’m speechless, Adele.”

Adele’s brows lifted slightly and she turned to John. “John? What kind of a date do you have in mind with this speechless lady?”

“Something private, where we can get to know each other better.”

The audience
oohed
.

The other bachelors snickered.

Sam seethed.

Adele moved on to Bachelor Number 7.

“Samantha,” John murmured, his warm breath grazing her scalp. “The name suits you.”

“Gosh, thanks. But it’s
Sam
.” His soft laugh created a slow shiver down her spine.

He dropped his hands on her shoulders and she tensed. The son of a—! She took a couple of calming breaths. His touch was possessive, like he was staking his rights to her. She gritted her teeth and prayed for the end of this thing.

After what seemed like forever, Adele wrapped things up by announcing, “Remember, ladies, next year we’ll be having the Extravaganza in December, just in time to bring home a hunk for Christmas.” The audience cheered loudly, then dispersed.

Sam jumped from the stool and whirled around. “Okay, Everest. Game’s over. I wish I could say it’s been fun, but…” She raised her brows and gave him a phony smile before moving into the audience to talk to the attendees. When she was sure she had enough notes, she folded her pad and put it and the pencil into her purse. From the corner of her eye, she noticed John speaking to another couple on stage. She took the opportunity to scurry out of the room.

A group of women crowded into the elevator. “Hold it!” Sam called, hurrying for it, but the doors closed before she reached it. “Dammit.”

She annoyed herself by constantly looking over her shoulder for
him
. She wasn’t running scared. She’d put enough men in their place to know she could handle John Everest if he happened to catch up with her. The elevator bell pinged. Finally. When the metal doors opened, she stepped inside and pressed the button for the ground floor. She turned around and John stood right behind her. She jumped.

“Samantha,” he scolded. “You left before we set a time for our date.” His masculine presence made the spacious elevator seem tiny and cramped.

Did he really think—? “Cut the bull, okay? I have absolutely no intention of going
anywhere
with you. I only went along with this little charade because I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your adoring public.” She swore under her breath when the elevator went up rather than down. No wonder none of the other women had followed.

“Are you always this nasty?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Because I’m not a nice person. You’d better call off our date now, before you regret it.”

He leaned against the back panel of the elevator, his muscular arms folded across his broad chest. “If we call  it off, then I want my $300 back.”

“Excuse me?”

“I paid $300 for your ticket. If you’re not going to fulfill your end of the bargain by going out with me, I want my money back.”

“I didn’t
ask
you to pay for my ticket.”

“I’ll take a check.”

“Look, Everest. I don’t care how much money you paid. It ain’t gonna happen. Period.” The elevator stopped on the top floor. The doors opened, but nobody got on. She punched the ground floor button several times.

“That won’t help.”

She whirled toward him. “I know you.”

John blinked twice. “What?”

She tapped his shirt with her red fingernail. “I’ve met your type before. You’re all the same.”

He flattened his palms on the paneling behind her, his forearms paralleling her head, his face just inches from hers. “You don’t know me at all, Samantha. I’d like to change that.”

“Not interested,” she said, resisting the urge to look away when his blue gaze bore into hers.

“How about tonight?”

“Are you always this persistent?” she asked, annoyed to hear her voice crack. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. His slow grin told her he had.

“Absolutely.” His eyes glittered with the challenge.

If she didn’t agree to go out with him, he’d keep after her until she did. She sighed. “Okay,” she said wearily. “But it’ll have to be next weekend. I’m busy tonight.”

“That won’t work. I’ll be out of town.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll have to cancel. Darn.”

He smirked. “No way. I can be patient when I have to be.”

“Uh huh.” She rolled her eyes and handed him a business card. “Here’s my work number.” No way was he getting her cell number.

He flicked the card with his fingers. “I’ll call you.”

She gave him a false smile. “Fine.” The elevator finally reached bottom and the doors opened. “Look, Everest, just so you know. After our ‘date’ — and I use that term loosely — I have no intentions of going out with you again.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners and he leaned against the back panel of the elevator, arms crossed over his chest. “Thanks for setting me straight, especially since two minutes ago you said you had no intention of going out with me at all.”

Chapter 3

“No! Samma make it!” Two-year-old Zachary Garrett’s bottom lip quivered and his big brown eyes filled with tears. “Samma make Zachie sammich.”

His mother, Nina Garrett, looked at Sam. “Would you mind?”

Sam smiled, took the knife from Nina, and dipped it into the jar of peanut butter. “Zachary knows Samma makes the best PB&J sandwiches in the whole world, don’t you?” She reached over the tile countertop to tickle his chin. The toddler giggled.

“Thanks so much for doing this, Sam,” Nina said, squatting to pick up eight-month-old Emily before she pulled the trash can over. The blond and blue-eyed baby was the spitting image of Nina, whereas Zachary Jr. looked just like his father with his dark hair and eyes. “I thought we’d have to cancel when our sitter called in sick. It was Zach’s idea to call you. I thought for sure you’d have a date.”

Sam cut the sandwiches into quarters and arranged them on the plastic plate along with some peeled and cut grapes. “Spending the evening with Zachary and Emily is much more fun than going out with an arrogant, egotistical man, who thinks women are property to be bought and sold. Isn’t that right, buddy?” Little Zachary nodded exuberantly.

“Does this man have a name?” Nina asked.

Sam made a face. “John Everest.” She gave Nina a brief run-down, ending with how John coerced her into a date. “If you hadn’t asked me to watch the kids, I’d have had no excuse not to go out with him tonight.” She opened her mouth and stuck her finger toward the back of her throat, in a ‘gag-me’ gesture. Zachary erupted into laughter and imitated the move.

“What exactly is wrong with this man?” Nina pulled Zachary’s sticky fingers from his mouth.

“You mean besides being married and divorced two times before the age of thirty?”

“Oh.” Nina’s brows rose. “But here’s the important question. Is he hot?”

Sam shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Good body?”

“Yes.”

“Then I predict true love in your future.”

“Oh, please,” Sam said, rolling her eyes.

Nina laughed. “Remember when I first met Zach? I couldn’t stand him, but you convinced me to give him a second chance if for no other reason than he was so cute.
Remember
?”

Sam fluttered her hand in the air. “Yes, yes. I remember. But this is different. John Everest and I…” She shuddered. “No, no, no. Not in a million years.”

Nina bit her lip as if restraining a smile. “Anyway, thanks again for tonight, Sam. I promise to return the favor when you have your little one someday.”

Sam sighed and rubbed her temples. “Well, someday is a long way off, as of today.” She screwed the lids on the peanut butter and jelly jars, and dropped the dirty knife into the sink.

“Your period came?”

Her husband, Zach, walked in. “I think I’ll pass on this conversation.” He started out of the room.

“Garrett, don’t be such a wuss,” Sam chided. “I was just telling your wife I’m not pregnant.”

He turned back, his expression sympathetic. “I’m sorry. You’re sure?” He snatched Emily from his wife’s arms and rubbed noses with the cooing baby.

“Yeah.”

“That was your fifth attempt, wasn’t it?” Nina asked.

“The sixth. And last.”

“Your last? But Sam, I thought you were so set on—”

“I am. I’m just not going to do the sperm bank route again. The stuff is frozen and my doctor told me it sometimes takes longer to conceive that way. Probably why I haven’t gotten pregnant.”

“So, what now?”

“Now,” she sighed, “I need to find a donor.”

“How would that work?” Zach asked.

She sucked a smudge of peanut butter from her palm. “Well, the man would give me a specimen, then I’d fill a syringe and insert it—”

“No, no,” Zach said quickly, his cheeks reddening. “I don’t really need to know
that
.” The women laughed at his chagrin. “I meant, how do you go about finding someone to help you? That’s not exactly something you can put on Craigslist.”

“Actually, it is,” she said. “A couple of women in my support group found their donors that way.”

“Oh, God.” He rolled his eyes. “I forgot you joined that group. Why would you want to hang around a bunch of bitter, man-hating women who get off bitching and moaning about how much better the world would be without men?”

“Honey, your language,” Nina reminded him, glancing at the children.