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Smug bastard.
“Miss Sims took the train to Milwaukee and got a flight back home. She has no interest in coming back. Just like I knew she wouldn’t. Which is why I told you to ask her.”
“Fuck!”
Here we go.
The Jake show is getting boring. I roll my eyes and take a seat on the couch, then pull the blanket tight around me and snuggle into the cushions. I think I’ll just take a nap. Maybe relive our kiss. My lips tingle and I smile.
“You think this shit is funny?”
I peek up at Jake. “Huh? What? The Miss Sims thing? No. Why?”
“This is your fault.”
I shrug. “Eh. Maybe. But even if it wasn’t you’d blame it on me because I broke into your house.”
He does that silent stare thing. I think he experiences some internal battle when he does this. Like maybe he’s trying to talk himself out of killing me.
“Do you have any idea how much money you cost me when you got in the backseat of my car?”
I yawn. I’m totally not feeling this conversation. “You forget. I didn’t even know how to pronounce Uber until just a little while ago. So no. I have no idea how much a car ride cost you.”
“Not the car ride….” He pauses and presses his mouth in a thin line. Either he’s trying to squeeze the lingering taste of me from his lips, or…yeah. That’s what he’s doing. Pretty sure of it. “Fifty thousand, Penelope.”
He has my attention. “Jake say what?”
“I spent fifty thousand dollars just in agency fees to find the perfect woman to take to my Grandfather’s retirement party. Ask me why.”
“Why?”
“Because despite what you think, I would move heaven and earth for that old man. Not because I’m trying to earn his respect, but because he has mine. So when he asked me to find someone who wasn’t the usual, obvious whore I wear on my arm to these events, I promised him I would. That promise didn’t come cheap. And now she’s gone. All because you stole a bag of fucking dog shit.”
Actually, I bagged the shit myself. But whatever.
“That’s very admirable of you to go to such lengths for your grandfather. But did you really pay fifty grand for one night with this chick?”
“I did.”
“You couldn’t find like a coupon or something?”
“For fuck’s sake….”
“What? I’m just saying. I would’ve done it for half that.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep. Pay me twenty-five grand and I’ll be whoever you want me to be for the night.”
Jake smiles. It’s…a scary smile. I don’t like it. “I’m not going to pay you twenty-five grand, Penelope.”
I shake my head at him. “It was a joke. You couldn’t pay me to hang out with that butthole grandfather of yours.”
“Good. I’m glad you feel that way.”
I eye him warily. “Why?”
His smile only widens. “Because you’re going to do it for free.”Chapter Eight“Is this like that time you told me Jason Aldean knew we were going to be on his tour bus, and then we got arrested for trespassing?” Why, three years later, does Emily still try to make me feel like shit about that? And why now? After I just gave her the best news of our lives?
The first thing I said after Jake told me I would be going to the party with him was, “Oh shit! I have to call Emily!” So I did. And now she’s coming at me with this blast from the past instead of just being happy for me.
She’s probably just jealous.
“So we got arrested for trespassing. It’s not like we were charged. I got those dropped, remember? And you got a selfie on a celebrity’s tour bus. And remember that pair of underwear I smuggled out for you?”
“They dropped the charges so they wouldn’t have to see your face again, Penelope. You didn’t do anything.”
“But you got to take selfies.”
“They confiscated our phones and deleted all of the selfies! It was part of the deal when they dropped the charges.”
“Those underwear though….”
“You sold them to the deputy—“
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, for a half-eaten Subway sandwich and a bag of stale potato chips. Say what you want but that food saved our lives that night. We probably would’ve died from alcohol poisoning without it.”
“I got alcohol poison that night.” Her tone is bitter. “Probably because you refused to share the fucking sandwich.”
“You’re missing the point, Em. A billionaire just asked me to go to a party with him to impress his grandfather. I’m living our dream. Be happy for me. And most importantly, lie to my mother and tell her you’re surprising me with a trip to New York and that we’ll be back in a week.”
“Fine.”
“And don’t forget to stay indoors and keep all the lights off so she doesn’t drive by and get suspicious.”
“How about I just take a bunch of pills and sleep for the next three days? Or eternity?”
