Chapter 27
I stared at the closed elevator doors. "The wrong foot?"
Next to me, Jake said, "Yeah. Before you came down, she was limping with the other one."
"Oh, my God," I said. "She was faking it the whole time?" I wanted to kick myself. I'd known better, and yet, she'd almost had me feeling sorry for her.
I was such a sucker.
I started to laugh. And once I started, I didn't want to stop. It wasn't even that funny, but the day had been so crazy-awful that I was beyond anxious to put it all behind me.
Still laughing, I told Jake, "Wanna hear what else she told me?"
Jake moved forward and pulled me into his arms. With a smile in his voice, he said, "What?"
"She claimed she was there last night. You know, at the convention center." I laughed against his chest. "Like I wouldn't have seen her."
Jake's arms stiffened, but he said nothing.
My laughter faded, and I pulled back to study his face. "Is something wrong?"
He looked toward the elevator doors, but made no response. His silence hung heavy between us.
"Oh, crap," I groaned. "Shewasthere. Wasn't she?"
He was still looking toward the elevator. "Yeah. You didn't see her?"
"No. Was I supposed to?"
"Well, shedidshush you."
"What?" I sputtered. "That was her?"
"Yeah. I figured you knew."
"How would I know?" I said. "I didn't see her. And if it wasn't a secret, why wasn't she sitting at our table?" Before he could answer either of those questions, I added. "She told me that you invited her. Is that true?"
Jake raised a single eyebrow, but said nothing. On his lips, I saw the hint of a smile.
Confused, I squinted up at him. "Why aren't you saying anything?"
With a grin, he pulled me tighter against him. "Because I was waiting to see if you were done."
I couldn’t help but feel vaguely insulted. Either he was teasing me, or he was avoiding my questions. Knowing Jake, it could be both.
Pushing the issue, I said, "So you did invite her?"
"Yeah," he said. "Months ago, when she still worked for me. And she wasn't sitting at our table, because I found her a new one."
"But why?"
"You've gotta ask?"
I was mulling that over when I felt a familiar vibration against my hip. It was my cell phone, tucked into the front pocket of my jeans. Guessing who the caller might be, I hated the idea of answering.
If it was Rango, which it probably was, Jake wouldn’t like it. And neither would I. Already, I'd had more than enough of that idiot for one day.
Sooner or later, I'd need to tell Jake about those calls, but I didn't want that time to be now. So I ignored my phone and focused on what really mattered.
