Make-up sex.
Jake's voice, harder again, chased my smile away. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"What?" Talk about verbal whiplash. "What do you mean?"
Before he could answer, I heard that dreaded sound –morethroat-clearing. I turned to look, and sure enough, there she was, Bianca, standing almost within arm's reach.
Yup. Standing.
So much for her broken foot.
I looked around and became painfully aware that sometime within the last couple of minutes, we had attracted a small audience – a dozen-or-so people, who were clustered around us, under the wide, protective awning.
I recognized a few of them as tenants who lived in the building. About the others, I had no idea. Probably, they were random gawkers, who'd been walking by and stopped because of all the commotion. Or who knows? Maybe, they were just normal people, trying to get in out of the rain.
Either way, they were all staring, mostly at Jake, not that I could blame them, all things considered.
Next to us, Bianca cleared her throat yet again. By now, it was like fingernails on a chalkboard. I decided that if I never heard that sound again, it would be way too soon.
I turned to her and said, "Just so you know, if you do that much more, I'm pretty sure you're gonna hack up an esophagus or something."
She gave me an annoyed look. "I wastryingto get Jake's attention."
"Yeah? Well, it'syouresophagus, not mine."
"Exactly," she said. "Itismine. So don't worry about it."
I wasn't worried. Mostly, I wanted to rip that thing out and use it as a muzzle.
But that was probably better left unsaid, so I looked to Jake. As far as I could tell, no amount of throat-clearing would be snagging his attention now. He was scanning the crowd as if searching for someone in particular. Finally, he turned to Bianca and asked, "Where's Vince?"
"Parking the car." She gave me a dismissive glance. "Because someone else wouldn't do it."
Yeah. That someone was me, obviously. Score one for Bianca, not that I was keeping track…much.
Jake frowned. "He's late."
That made me pause. Late for what? I turned to Jake and said, "You knew they were coming?"
"I knew Vince was." He flicked his gaze toward Bianca. "This one's a surprise."
The way it looked, it was a day full of surprises. Vince and Jake weren't exactly friends. Vince was a hot-shot sports agent who represented some of the world's most famous athletes. And Jake? Well, he had a real knack for making those athletes look like total morons.
I knew for a fact that Jake's antics – all caught on video, by the way – had cost Vince and his clients a ton of money in lost endorsement deals and who-knows what else.
"I don't get it," I said. "Why are you meeting with Vince?"
Next to us, Bianca said, "It's not just Vince. He's meeting with me, too. Remember?"
As if I could forget.
Seeking a shred of privacy, I leaned closer to Jake and asked, "But why? What's going on?"
For a few crazy weeks, I'd actually worked for Vince. During that short, tumultuous time, I'd learned a few things, and most of them were unpleasant.
For starters, Vince wasn't nearly as nice as he pretended to be. And even if he were, Jake had plenty of reasons to loathe him. Some of those reasons involved me.
"Ask me later," Jake said. "For now, wait here, okay? I'm gonna give Pete a message. And then, we'll get you upstairs."
