Page 96 of Jaked

Chapter 35

Inside the penthouse, Vince gave a humorless laugh. "At least."

I let out a long breath. "Wow."

"Yeah," he said. "It really ticked me off too."

"Really?" I said. "I didn't notice."

He gave me a sheepish grin. "Right. Well, the thing is, I worked my ass off to get that deal. And here, it's gone–" He gave a quick snap of his fingers. "–just like that. I'm not one to lose my cool, but, eh, what can I say? It happens."

In spite of myself, I felt a tiny tug of sympathy. "So there's no chance of working it out?" I asked. "I mean, you probably had an official contract or something, right?"

"Not yet," Vince said. "We were set to sign next week."

"Oh. I’m sorry to hear that." And for some reason, I meant it too. If someone costmethat much money, I'd definitely go for the silverware.

I glanced toward the balcony. Through the glass doors, I saw Bianca talking into her phone, looking anything but happy. Still, something made me lower my voice when I turned back to Vince and asked, "So, have you known Jake long?"

"You could say that," Vince said. "Funny, we used to be friends."

I laughed. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not kidding," he said.

My laugher faded as I studied his face. "Really?" I said.

He gave a half-shrug. "Friendly enough, anyway."

"But you're not anymore?"

"Hard to be friends with someone who costs you that much money."

I winced. I could see his point. "So," I said, "you were friends until today?"

"Nah. Not today. A few months ago, we had a falling out."

"Over what?" I asked.

"The truth?" he said, looking slightly embarrassed. "A girl."

For some reason, this wasn't the answer I wanted to hear. "Oh."

"But forget that," he said. "So, about my apology." He grinned. "Do you accept? Or do I have to beg?"

I looked over at him. Somehow, he didn't look the begging type. "Would you?" I asked.

His gaze met mine. "Wanna try me?"

I couldn’t help but return his smile. "I almost feel like it would be rude not to."

"Good," he said, "because I'll tell you a secret." He motioned me closer. When I moved forward only a fraction, he said in a low, oddly intoxicating voice, "because I hate to beg."

I glanced down at my empty hands. Suddenly, I wished I had a drink or something, anything to take the edge off. I thought about Jake. Would he be gone all night? And when he returned, would he be alone? Or with a guest?

"So," Vince asked, "are you and Jake just friends, or…" He met my gaze. "—something more?"

The question hung in the air. What was I to Jake? That kiss had felt so achingly real. But the whole thing had been a shame, a ruse, a lie. I was an idiot, and Jake was, well Jake.