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Jax watched as Celia Armstrong attempted to seduce his brother by whispering in Jameson’s ear and rubbing her palm against his chest. Jameson grabbed her wrist firmly yet gently.
“Take a walk. I’m not interested,” Jameson nearly growled. Jax watched as the blonde wiggled her way over toward another group of men. Wealthy men Celia would love to trap. He locked gazes with Jameson, and Jameson glanced around the room as if totally bored and ready to bolt. That expression he used on Celia was priceless. Jameson was over six foot two, just like he was. With their muscular builds and that military attitude thrown in, they reeked of intimidation. But that also meant that they were chick magnets. Jax gave up hope of meeting someone nice and respectable. His brother hadn’t shown any interest in any woman.
“This Belogio is not my cup of tea. Too much mishmash of colors and odd images,” Roldolpho said.
“So what plans do you have for upcoming talent? Any unknowns?” Jax asked as Jameson sipped at a glass of champagne. His brother was uptight and had a bad attitude, but he was a good-looking guy. Jax was a man of action. He was demanding and expected a lot in return. When it came to women, he took extra precaution to not shit where he ate. He knew better. He felt that tightness in his chest as he tried to maintain a conversation with Roldolpho and Freda while thinking about his brother Jameson. They were close, and Jameson meant the world to Jax.
“Yes, I do have some new talent in mind. One of the artists has his work on display tonight,” Roldolpho replied, and then Jax’s attention went to the gorgeous brunette serving hors d’oeuvres. He hardly even focused on the platter of options. His gut clenched as their gazes locked. Her eyes widened as if she was surprised to see him or recognized him, and then she smiled as she moved the platter toward Roldolpho. He knew he had never seen her before. If he had, he would so be all over that. She looked sweet, almost virginal, despite her display of just the right amount of cleavage.
“Is that caviar?” Jameson asked, and the brunette looked at Jameson, and now Jax noticed his brother completely locked on the woman, too.
“Yes sir,” she said then licked her lower lip. Jesus, her lips look familiar. What the hell?
She moved the platter toward Roldolpho and Freda, who smiled wide and took another sample. She nodded her head and began to walk away. Jax looked at Jameson, and Jameson was watching her, following her with his eyes as he held the caviar on a cracker in his hands. He and his brother hated caviar.
“So as I was saying, I do have a few new artists making their way onto the scene here in Houston. One of their paintings has been compared to Van Gogh,” Roldolpho said then took a bite of the cracker with fish eggs on it.
“I never was a fan of Van Gogh,” Jax said, uninterested in the conversation now. His eyes scanned the crowd, and he watched as men immediately took notice to the female server. One man in a tuxedo placed a bill in her hand and squeezed it over the money. He then leaned in next to her and whispered something. Jax was shocked at the possessive feeling that instantly came over him. He wondered what was wrong with him? She wasn’t his. He didn’t even know her, so why was he getting angry?
As he analyzed his feelings, he realized that he had lost sight of the beautiful young woman. She disappeared, and he felt the urge to look for her. Was he just horny? He had been in an odd state since yesterday and bumping into the skater girl. What was her name? Oh, yes, Sparks. He cleared his throat and tried to shake the odd thoughts from his head.
At that moment Roldolpho and Freda excused themselves, and Jax was left with Jameson.
“Hey, did you see that server? The brunette?” Jax asked his brother.
“Yeah, so what?”
“So what? You fucking locked on her like you used to lock onto a sniper shot target. She’s beautiful.”
“So go ask her out and do your thing.”
“What’s your problem, Jameson? You’ve been acting like a jerk lately and I’ve had enough.” Jax walked away, fuming at his brother. He knew Jameson was interested in the brunette, and the fact that they both were in a state at her spoke volumes. He was going to find out who she was. Or he was going to hit someone. He was truly on edge here.
* * * *
Jameson was staring at a picture of God knew what. It was a mishmash of colors splattered across what was supposed to be a cityscape. He turned his head sideways and attempted to figure out what the scene was.
“Hors d’oeuvres, sir?” The sweet voice came from behind him, and he turned and locked gazes with large hazel eyes. The woman was much shorter than him, even in the slight heels she wore. Her hair was pulled back into a fancy style that showed off her slim, tan neck and perfect jaw. She had a petite nose and a gorgeous set of breasts on her. She was beautiful. She stared at him and then at the painting.
“I’m good. I wasn’t too happy about the other stuff you brought over earlier.”
“Oh, I’m so
sorry, sir. Is there something specific that I can offer you? There are lots of hors d’oeuvres in the kitchen,” she informed him as she held his gaze. Her cheeks looked flushed, and he wondered if she were feeling the same attraction that he was? He licked his lower lip, and she followed the movement. Why am I thinking of a bunch of corny lines right now? You can offer me you on a platter.
He cleared his mind and tried to remember how the hell to flirt with an attractive woman. She definitely wasn’t like these other types. She looked sweet.
“I thought that Malone’s was catering the event.”
“They did, sir.”
“Jameson?”
“The drink, sir?”
“No, the name is Jameson. You don’t have to call me sir.”
She stared at him as if he had two heads. “Okay.”
