Page 128 of Jaked

"I gave him a flirty smile. "I don't know. Don't you want to leave'somethingto the imagination'?"

"Notthatmuch," he said. "Smart-ass."

I moved forward, revealing the whole outfit. Jake gave a slow nod. The sales clerk appeared around the corner and stopped to look. "It looks like you have a winner," she said.

"Well, technically, it's for him," I said. "I'm just modeling it."

Ignoring the taunt, Jake turned to the sales clerk. "Got any scissors?" he asked. "She's gonna wear this out."

"I am?" I looked down at my tennis shoes. It suddenly occurred to me that this might explain why a few stores ago, Jake had insisted on buying me some black heels for no apparent reason.

When the clerk left to retrieve some scissors, I lowered my voice and told Jake, "You're awful devious. You know that, right?"

He reached into one of our shopping bags and pulled out the exact shoes I'd been thinking of. "Don't you know it," he said.

I was just slipping into the new shoes when the clerk returned with an oversized pair of scissors and started removing tags. When she finished, Jake accompanied her to the register while I ducked into the dressing room to grab the clothes I thathadbeen wearing.

When I finished gathering them up, I sidled up to Jake at the register and paused. The clerk was ringing up second outfit exactly the same as the one I was now currently wearing. I gave Jake a perplexed look. "What's that for?" I asked.

Jake shrugged. "You seemed to like it. I figured you'd want a set for you, too."

"Oh," I said, conscious that the sales clerk was listening. "Thanks. That's really thoughtful." Even if it made absolutely no sense.

After Jake signed for the purchase, we headed straight to the car and hit this amazing Italian restaurant on the way back. Looking around the place, with its upscale décor and even more upscale patrons, I could see why my yoga pants weren't exactly appropriate.

We laughed all the way through dinner, about silly things ranging from the idea of him actually wearing that little black skirt to the pros and cons of schoolmarm-themed attire. So far, I was having the best day of my life.

It was funny too, because the day hadn'tallbeen terrific. Parts of it had sucked pretty bad, actually. But the parts that were good? Well, those more than made up for it.

We were halfway through dessert when a stranger appeared at our table. It was an elderly lady in upscale, conservative clothes. I braced myself, wondering if I'd been laughing too loud at what Jake had just been telling me.

He had spent the last few minutes giving me a blow-by-blow, literally, about the first time he'd gotten thrown in jail for fighting. The story shouldn't have been funny. But the way Jake told it, even going so far as to mention that he'd lost a meatball sub in the cop car, I just couldn't stop laughing.

But now, looking at the lady standing beside our table, I clamped my lips shut and tried to look respectable. In college, I had worked at enough restaurants to know there always seemed to be that one obnoxious table, where people laughed way too loud and weren't nearly as funny as they thought they were.

Werewethat table? God, I sure hoped not.

But when the woman started to speak, I knew that something else was going on entirely.