AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jake
Flight delayed. Going straight home from the airport instead of coming to the office. Have a good weekend.
Before I lose my nerve, I text him back.
Need to go over some work things. Shouldn’t wait until Monday. Do you have time tonight? I can swing by your place.
Of course. See you around 7ish?
Perfect.
Jake’s penthouse is in one of the best parts of the city. It’s not surprising, given how insanely wealthy he is. My older-model sedan is definitely out of place here. I try to find street parking so I don’t have to give my poor, ugly, stinky car to the valet, but luck isn’t on my side. I hand my keys to the young guy in the red uniform, and he is kind enough to take them without blinking an eye. The doorman rushes to open the door, and I’m ushered inside. Jake had already informed them I’d be coming, so I’m able to head right for the elevator doors.
I barely notice the elegance of the lobby, my body on autopilot. Anxiety grips me as the elevator rises. With each floor that passes, my doubts multiply, and fear spreads throughout my body. I check my bag again. My uncle’s file is still there, as is my resignation letter. Not that I will need the letter. I have no doubt Jake will fire me instantly as soon as I explain who my uncle is. Jake is a reasonable person. But he has his limits, and he also has a temper. Hopefully, by coming clean like this, he’ll just fire me and not prosecute me.
The elevator continues to rise until it reaches the seventieth floor. When it stops, I’m tempted to hit L again and head back down to the lobby. But I won’t be a coward anymore. I will do what I need to do. Straightening my back, I step out of the elevator and head toward his door.
Before I can knock, Jake opens the door.
“Hey, Lana. The concierge rang me to let me know you were on your way up,” he explains at my confused look.
My initial shock came from his opening of the door so suddenly. My secondary shock came from the fact that his hair is wet, and he has just come from the shower.
I remember another time that he had come out of the shower when he was wearing only a towel. I remember the way he flirted with me and teased me, and I witnessed a playful side of him that I didn’t know existed at the time. That was when I first realized how impossibly gorgeous he is. I can still picture him in that moment, just out of the shower, water dripping down his body. My tongue had itched to lap up the water on his hard, muscular chest. His hands were on his towel, teasingly threatening to drop it. I try to clear my head of memories of that day and focus on the man standing in front of me.
But with those memories fresh in my mind, I can’t help my slow perusal as my eyes roam down his body. He’s dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man look this sinfully good in a simple pair of jeans. The way they hug his hips and thighs is enough to make any woman feel weak. And my hands want to reach up under his shirt like they did that night on the balcony, to feel him and to touch him.
Jake clears his throat quietly, and my eyes swing up to meet his knowing eyes, those eyes that miss nothing. I’ve been staring for too long. I swear he can see every thought in my head. He can probably hear my heart as it beats a wild rhythm, the same as it does every time he is near me. I should’ve waited for Monday. Meeting him at his place is too dangerous.
“I’ve already poured you a drink. Would you like to come in?” he asks.
I peek behind his back, where he gestures to the large built-in, fully stocked bar.
“Actually, you know, maybe this can wait for the office on Monday after all.” My nervousness is back but for another reason. I don’t know that I will be able to go through with my confession and resignation when I see him like this, casually dressed, in his own element. Coming to his home was a dumb idea. I don’t know what I was thinking. On Monday, we’ll be on neutral ground at the office. He will be dressed in his normal business attire. My heart won’t be beating so wildly on Monday.
Yes, that would be much safer.
He shakes his head and steps aside. He glances away and doesn’t quite meet my eyes.
“You’re already here. And I thought we could order takeout and talk. I haven’t eaten since this morning. Besides, I have something I need to talk to you about anyway. I was going to wait until Monday, but it’s best to get it over with now,” he insists calmly.
My heart misses a beat at his words. It’s hard to figure out his mood because he’s always so good at hiding his thoughts. What could he need to talk to me about that can’t wait until Monday? I’m certain that he couldn’t possibly have found out the connection between me and myuncle. But the way he said he wants to get it over with is sounds a bit ominous.
My throat is suddenly dry. That drink he offered is sounding better and better. He gestures for me to have a seat on the couch, so I prop myself on the edge of the cushion and take a sip of the whiskey that he had poured for me.
Jake starts pacing in front of me, his whiskey untouched in his hand.
I feel so out of my element here in Jake’s home. His enormous penthouse, with panoramic views of the New York City skyline behind the floor-to-ceiling windows, is so different from any place I’ve ever been. It exudes luxury and sophistication with modern decor and rich accent pieces. The plush black leather sofa that I’m sitting on is as soft as butter, and I feel myself sinking into the cushions as I watch him walk back and forth in front of me. I wish I’d insisted on waiting until Monday.
He’s nervous about something, which in turn makes me even more nervous. I sense that whatever he has to say to me isn’t going to be pleasant. I take a bigger sip of my drink, and the liquid burns as it runs down my throat. My body tenses as Jake tries to find the words to say to me. I can feel myself ready to take flight. The need to escape is grows the more he paces.
He stops pacing, looks at me, then proceeds to walk again. He clears his throat as though he is finally ready to speak his mind.
Time is up. I need to come clean about my uncle because he obviously knows something. I stand up and put my drink down with a loud clunk.
“Jake, I need to tell you something.”
“No, me first. Sit down,” he commands, a hint of steel to his voice.
