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She turns and fixes me in a stare that only lasts a moment, but seems to reach deep into me. She flickers at the edges of her mouth and I don’t know why, but I feel I just met her approval. “Didn’t catch your name,” she says.
“Neither did I,” Jack says. “What do they call you?”
“Jill,” I reply, telling the same lie I always do. “Jill Hawthorne.”
“Jack Greene.” He picks up our drinks. “Jack and Jill. Like it’s meant to be. Shall we?”
“Later, Jack,” Valerie says as my companion turns his back on her. She catches my eye and beckons me close, her eyebrows raising. “Be careful around him,” she says in a low voice. “He’ll chew you up and spit you out before tonight’s over.”
“You sound like you speak from experience.”
“Let’s just say he’s got a reputation and it ain’t good.”
“I’ll bear it in mind, thanks.”
She reaches over and clasps her hand over my arm, holding me still for a moment. “I mean it. Be careful around him.”
“I can take care of myself.”
She lets go. “All right. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I look to see where Jack’s gone. He’s at a table over near the piano. I join him and he looks straight at me with his guard down. In the time I take to blink, he’s smiling like it never happened, but I can’t forget that moment.
It was only for a second, but it was like seeing a man in the depths of the greatest agony any human could feel. Something is hurting him, something so deep, it’s a part of his soul. What the hell could hurt someone that much?
“You like jazz?” he asks.
I take a sip of my drink as he watches me intensely. “It’s all right, I guess.”
“Good drink?” It’s like he knows I saw his pain and he’s saying anything to distract me from thinking about it.
“I’ve had better.”
“I doubt it. This shit isn’t for the public. Came straight out a deposed emir’s personal cellar.”
“I’ll take your word for it. What happens now?”
“You relax and enjoy the music. When were you due to get off work?”
“Midnight.”
“Then I’ve got you for-” He looks at his watch. A Rolex. Stolen like the car, I’m guessing. “-another forty minutes.”
“I told you. Stop comparing me to an escort.”
I open my mouth to ask him what’s hurting him so much, but he gets in front of me with his own question. “What do you want to do, Jill?”
“What? Now?”
“In life.”
“Just coming out and asking the big questions, aren’t you?”
“Why bother with small talk? It bores me. What’s your goal in life?”
“I don’t know. Work with kids, I guess.”
“You guess? That’s not very concrete.”
