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Chapter One
Seattle, Washington, present day…
A buzzing sounded from…somewhere, and I made the horrible mistake of opening my eyes. Pain lanced through my head, carried on a bolt of sunshine. My vista was a mountain range of white sheets leading to a valley of tanned skin over smooth muscle.
Jake? Jack? I couldn’t remember. Or maybe I never knew.
The buzzing came again. I shut my eyes and let the sound guide my hand. I found my phone under my pillow and peered at it with one eye.
A text from Viv, decorated with eggplant and waterspout emojis.
Well??? How was he?
My head thundered and it felt like I hadn’t drunk any water in approximately eight years.
But tequila? I’d had plenty of that.
Just the thought made my stomach roil. The manly lump beside me stirred and resettled again, turning his face toward me. Chiseled chin. Cheekbones for days. I peeked under the sheet. Impressively endowed. The guy checked all my boxes for a one-nighter. I couldn’t remember much of the actual event, but Viv didn’t need to know that.
I typed back:Epic, of course. Came four times. U?
The rolling dots of her reply appeared, but my heavy eyes happened on the time in the upper right corner of my phone. Panic ripped through me, making me gasp. Suddenly, last night came roaring back in all its drunken clarity. Vivienne had talked me into a Thursday night happy hour at Gracia. I’d sworn up and down that I wouldn’t party too hard; I had the Nestle people coming into the agency at nine a.m., and if I landed this account, my promotion to partner would be all but assured. Instead, we met two Ken dolls in three-piece suits, and the margaritas flowed like Niagara.
I don’t remember much after that.
“Shit shit shit!”
Another text from Viv came in but I was too busy scrambling out of my bedmate’s king-sized barge of Egyptian cotton and mahogany. I was tugging on my dress that was balled on the floor when Jack-or-Jake stirred and sat up. Dirty blond hair fell over his brow in an adorable mop that I vaguely remember tugging my fingers through last night.
“Where’s the fire?” he asked with an easy smile.
“Oh, hi…?”
“Jack. Phillips.”
“Right, Jack. I…uh, I’m Faith,” I stammered, my face heating at the cringe of introducing myself to a guy I’d already slept with.
“I remember,” Jack said, smiling. “Would you like some breakfast, Faith?”
Nice smile and a gentleman, too. If only he’d been a heavier sleeper, I could’ve made a clean escape.
He started to turn back the covers.
“No, no, don’t get up,” I said, hopping on one foot to get my heels on. “I’m late for a meeting. A big one.”
“Coffee?”
“I can’t. So very late…”
I spun in a circle in search of my Marc Jacobs. Jack sat propped against his pillows, watching me, amused.
“The chair,” he said.
I grabbed my bag. “Thanks. Well, it’s been nice. Great…I think.”
“It was pretty great,” Jack said. “Can I call you?”
“Um, sure…” I mumbled, tossing my phone into my bag and shouldering it. “Looking forward to it.”
