Rachel Dyken - The Wager

“But—”

“This is your career, Char. Do you really want another chance or not? Because if you don’t, the door is behind you.” He turned on his computer and didn’t give her another glance. “We’re done here.”

Char rose carefully. “Yes, sir.”

“And Char?”

She turned.

“I would think very seriously about your future. Maybe KOMO news isn’t the right place for you. There are plenty of other eager college graduates willing to take your place.”

Fighting back tears, Char stalked out of the office and made a beeline toward her desk. The scent of the roses literally choked her. Or maybe that was fear. She wasn’t sure.

With shaking hands, she picked up the phone and dialed Kacey’s number.

Voicemail.

Of course.

They were probably flying.

The thing was, Char knew that Kacey wanted privacy. It was one of the prime reasons they’d chosen to get married at Titus Abbey rather than in a big church. Their house was private property, therefore they could control the paparazzi. Granted, Travis wasn’t as famous as Jake, but their family owned basically half of Seattle and had been featured in Forbes more times than Char could count. The wedding was big news. They were millionaire business moguls. And people were obsessed with the Titus brothers, almost as much as they were with the Seahawks.

It was a cranky start to Char’s day; she worked through lunch and by the time five arrived she was so ready to leave she almost bolted out the door the minute the big hand hit the twelve.

“Ready?” a voice said behind her.

More whispering and gasping, a few swear words, and then a moan. Yes, one woman had actually moaned out loud.

“Jake.” Char swallowed and turned around, ready to face the god himself. He had on tight ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. Sweet mother of God, he was beautiful.

Now she understood the moaning.

Pretending not to be fazed as his hazel eyes met hers, she reached for her purse and stood. “I’m ready if you are.”

A few cell phones were lifted in the air, pointing in their direction. Jake’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. In fact, he looked almost… angry. Licking his lips, he gave a small wave to the people standing around them and turned away. A few women began talking loudly next to Char’s cubicle.

“Great.” He smiled and helped her to her feet, then put his hand on the small of her back as he walked her down the hall.

A few more snickers were heard as they passed offices.

And then a cat call.

The touch of Jake’s hand was burning itself into her back. It wasn’t lost on her that when she walked by Mark’s office she could see he had a satisfied gleam in his eyes. Bastard. They were almost home free.

Char hit the down button on the elevator and prayed it would go faster. You could seriously hear a pin drop, the room was eerily quiet of it’s usual buzz and laughter.

“Jake? Jake Titus?” A woman cleared her throat.

Both Char and Jake turned.

Michelle Klike was the reporter that had replaced Char on the five o’clock news. She had bright blond hair and was Barbie-doll small; her nickname was Legs.

“Yeah?” Jake licked his lips and flashed that fake smile again.

“Michelle Klike. I’m sure you’ve seen me on the news.” She tossed her platinum hair and winked. “We should do lunch sometime. I’d love to get to know you better.”

Right. Char snorted softly. Michelle sent her a glare and then turned her attention back to Jake.

“I, uh…” Jake shook his head and wrapped his arm around Char. “I’m busy.”

Michelle’s smile turned feral as she eyed Char, and then Jake and then Char again, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Well,” she pulled out a card, “you just let me know when you’re done with Char and I’ll set up a date.”

Done? Char’s eyebrows shot upward, most likely getting lost in her hairline as she took a step toward Michelle.

Jake’s muscles flexed as he gripped Char with his arm and took the card with his other hand. “Thanks, but I’ve already got a reporter I talk to.”

“For now.” Michelle flashed that damn smile again and strutted off.

The elevator doors opened, thank God.

Jake pushed the button for the doors to close at least ten times before they actually did, and then cheesy music blanketed their awkward silence.

“Sorry,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “It’s not normally that bad. I mean—”

“Jake,” Char held up her hand. “You don’t have to explain. I know who you are and what you are, okay? Let’s just leave it at that. And who knows? At least now you won’t have to go to the club for your next booty call, right?”

Nostrils flaring, his eyes went cold for a brief moment before he looked away and shook his head. When the elevator doors finally re-opened, he let Char step in front of him and again placed his hand on the small of her back. What was he doing? She’d just pushed him away again and he was still, what? Being nice?

She eyed him suspiciously. “What’s your game here?”

He shrugged as they made their way through the parking garage.“I thought we’d eat before we finish off the whole wedding gift and cake topper thing,” Jake said as he unlocked a white BMW. Seriously, how many cars did the guy have?

“Sure.” Char got into the car and was reminded yet again how many straws she was attempting to grasp by even thinking she could be with a guy like Jake. He was playing with her: that was his angle. The minute she was gone he’d call Legs. “Where to first?”

“Well.” He put the car in drive. Merciful God above, what was he wearing? What type of cologne was that? She leaned forward and felt her face flush when she actually shivered at his scent.

“What are you doing?” Jake asked. The car was back in park. His eyes were twinkling with amusement.

“Er.” Char jerked away. “Just helping you see.”

“See?”

“The traffic.” She pointed behind them to nonexistent cars going by them in the parking garage.

“I think I’ll be okay on my own.” He winked and continued backing out while Char prayed for the car to swallow her whole.

“So this restaurant.” Changing the subject, she dug into her purse for some lip gloss. “It’s by the cake place?”

“Yup.”

“Cool.”

Holy crap. Was it going to be this awkward the entire time? “Thanks, for the flowers. They were really pretty.” There, she made her peace.

“They were yellow.” Jake pointed out as he maneuvered the car onto third street.

“Right,” Char said slowly.

“That means forgiveness.”

“Okay.”

“Just thought you should know.” He shrugged.

“Jake, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He didn’t say anything. Just kept driving while Char managed not to look like a dog in heat as his smell continued to radiate off of him.

Jake pulled the car into a parking spot by a small restaurant and ran around it to help Char out. “I know it looks like a hole in the wall but it’s really good. I promise.”

The building was old and brick, like most buildings in downtown Seattle. The door to the restaurant was red, and spray-painted beside it was the word “Fork”. Hmm. She shrugged and followed him inside.

People were scattered about, sitting at mismatched tables with checkered tablecloths topped with giant glasses of wine. Hmm, maybe she would like this place after all. Jake grabbed her hand, took her to the corner table, and pulled out her chair.

“You already ordered?” She pointed to the full wine glasses on the table.

“Nope.” He grinned. “That’s how the tables are. The wine is all inclusive, as much as you want, at all times. The first glass is always the house wine and then they bring you whatever your preference.”

“Holy crap.” Char looked lustfully at the glass of wine. “You’ve brought me to heaven.”

His smile was so large that Char gasped before looking down at the menu on the table. It was handwritten on a small chalkboard that sat like a placemat by her silverware.

“You like it?” he asked.

“I love it.” Char met his gaze and smiled. 

It had been an accident. He’d only meant to order one damn flower. But then he thought of Char’s dejected face, and how sad she’d looked when she got out of the car. So he ordered a few more. It was seriously like he had no control over his mouth as he talked to the florist.

When the florist asked why he was sending flowers, well. That’s when things spiraled out of control. Because he couldn’t help that his imagination began conjuring up images of what Char’s face would look like when she went to work and saw her desk littered with flowers. He was convinced nobody had ever taken the time to do something nice for her. He’d bet his life on it.

So fine. It had been excessive.

Perhaps too excessive.

But it was a peace offering. Whoever said peace offerings couldn’t be excessive? He’d wanted her to feel good.

Mission accomplished.

Until he saw her face again.

He really needed to stop seeing her in person. It was making him feel things he didn’t want to feel, like vulnerable and stupid.

And now she was looking at him like that again. The same look girls got on their faces when they were falling. Normally he hated it. But now? He craved it. Slowly, she was ruining him. He wasn’t sure if he should run the other way or just kiss her and get it over with. But that same irritating fear was still blocking all logical thought, making him re-think every damn choice.

He knew he was an ass and didn’t deserve her. He also knew he would most likely mess up and she’d hate him.

And then there was also his past with women. Add that on top of all the shameful things he’d done to Kacey and he wasn’t sure he could trust himself, let alone allow someone else to put their trust in him.

With a sigh he looked back down at the menu and tried to find something to order. Everything looked fuzzy; nothing sounded good, nothing but her.

And sadly, Char wasn’t on the menu. Maybe if he could find some chalk he’d put her on there and ask nicely.

Then he’d nicely push everything off the table.

And nicely strip her of her clothes.

Then nicely lay claim to her—

“Jake?” Char interrupted. “You’re all flushed. Are you okay?”

Hell no. He was not okay.

He gripped the sides of his chair and gave her a curt nod. “I was just thinking.”

“Care to clue me in?” Char laughed. “Your thoughts seem exciting.”

Oh, if she only knew.

“Ready to order?” A waiter popped out of nowhere.

Damn. If Jake would have actually been looking at the menu he could’ve fired something off, but his mind had gone completely blank, and now he was staring at Char’s mouth, like a starving man. Perfect. He was turning into a lunatic. Grandma would be pleased with herself.

“I’ll have the chef’s salad with a side of fries.”

Jake laughed and pointed at Char. “Same for me.”

She took a sip of wine and closed her eyes.

Mouth completely dry, Jake watched as she savored the red wine and finally swallowed.

He’d be lucky to get out of the restaurant without dying from arousal. He cleared his throat and managed to look away. “So, fries and salad, huh?”

“Best of both worlds.” Char answered.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that the glass of temptation, aka the wine, was back on the table. He exhaled and managed to gain a bit more control over himself as their eyes met again.

“So we eat.” Char chewed her lower lip. “Then we get the cake topper, and only one more task?”

“Yup.”

“Should be easy.”

“We’ll be done in no time.” Jake winked. 

“We really need to stop saying things like that.” Char sighed as they watched the elderly woman type into the computer using only her pointer fingers.

“Now.” Blanche, the owner of the cake shop, stopped typing. “What was the last name?”

“Titus,” Jake said slowly.

“Can you spell that, please?” The lady smiled, revealing a large set of teeth that looked like the perfect dentures.

“Uh, sure. T, I, T, U, S.”

“T.” She typed and looked up.

Char managed not to laugh but only barely. She had to look away.

“I.” Jake paused.