Page 67 of Jaked

Chapter 25

I glanced around. Sure enough, a good-looking blond guy in expensive-looking clothes was stalking toward us.

I glanced toward Jake. Draping a protective arm over my shoulder, he pulled me close. "Don't worry," he said into my ear, "the guy's a pussy."

I snuck another glance in the guy's direction. He didn't look like a pussy. Okay, so maybe he didn't have Jake's powerful build, but still, he didn't look like a wimp either. And from the expression on his face, I had the distinct impression that he'd like nothing better than to beat Jake with a nearby sculpture until there was nothing left – of the sculptureandof Jake.

When the guy reached the alcove where we stood, he barreled up to Jake and said, "You asshole!"

Around us, a few people turned to look.

Jake looked at him with a faintly amused expression. "Yeah?"

Although Jake's demeanor was easy, I could feel his hard muscles tensing at my side. If the guy wanted a fight, he'd probably get it, and then some.

The guy leaned in close. "Do you know how much money you cost me today?"

Earlier today, I'd asked Jake an eerily similar question. It boggled the mind. How much damage could one guy do in twenty-four hours?

Jake grinned over at him. "How much?" he asked.

"Half a million. You cocksucker."

"Cocksucker?" Jake frowned. "I thought I was an asshole."

"Stop fucking around," the guy said. "That video of yours, it just cost Dirk one hell of an endorsement deal."

I repeated the name in my head. Dirk. As in Dirk Leonard? The Chainsaw?

"Yeah?" Jake said. "Which deal?"

The guy practically spat the answer. "Power Shot."

"Eh, their product sucks," Jake said. "I did the guy a big favor."

"A favor?" the guy said. "You costhimten million." His jaw clenched. "And you made him look like an asshole."

Jake's reached up to scratch his chin. "Wait. I thoughtIwas the asshole."

"Go ahead," he told Jake. "Keep goading me. You think I'm gonna lose my cool? You think I’m gonna yank you out of your car? Start a fight? Make myself a laughingstock?"

Jake looked at him with mild interest. "You're not?"

"No." The guy's voice ground to a low menace. "That's not the way I work. But let me tell you something, whenIhit you, it won't be with my car, and it won't be with my fist. But it'll hurt like a son-of-a-bitch just the same. So you remember that the next time you fuck with one of my people."

With that, the guy turned and stalked away, jostling his way through the crowd until he disappeared from sight.

I was still staring after him when I heard Jake's voice, low in my ear. "Want another drink?" he asked.

I whirled toward him. "What?"

He flicked his gaze to my empty glass. "You're out of champagne. Want me to get you a refill?"

"Forget that," I said. "Who was that guy?"

"Who?"

"Cut the crap," I said. "The guy who just left."