Page 11 of Jaked


Font Size:

Chapter 5

Inside the car, I gave Jake a murderous glare. "Let me get this straight. You barge intomyplace—"

"Technically," he said, "I was invited."

"Not byme," I told him. "And what about Maddie? She really liked you, you know."

Jake's jaw tightened. "Did it sound like she was complaining?"

Did he mean last night? God, what a bastard. I stared over at him. "In case you forgot, shedidcomplain," I said. "Remember? On the way out?"

Jake gave something like a shrug. "Eh, I’m used to that."

I made a sound of disgust. "So what'd you do this morning? Did you wake up and say to yourself, 'Hey, I think I'll ruin someone's life today.'"

"Whose life are we talking about?" he asked.

As if he didn't know. "Mine," I said. "Obviously." True, Maddie wasn't happy right now either, but at least she still had a job and a place to live.

"I had to get you out of there," he said.

"Is that so," I said. "Why?"

"You know why."

"Actually, I don't." Aside from that strange text on his phone, he'd offered up no good reason for what he'd done this morning. "You'rethe one who has some explaining to do." I turned toward the guy in the back. "Don't you think?"

"Me?" Trey said, glancing toward Jake. "I think whateverhethinks."

God, what a butt-kisser. Maybe Jakewashis employer.

"Trey," Jake said. "Headphones."

Without missing a beat, Trey reached into that same black satchel. He pulled out a thick set of headphones and slipped them on over his ears. From somewhere on the floor, he pulled out a sleek-looking notebook computer and opened it up onto his lap. He looked down at the screen and started tapping away.

I turned toward Jake. I mimicked him talking to his so-called assistant. "Trey. Headphones," I barked in an overly deep voice. Then, in my normal voice, I said, "You know, that was really rude, don't you?"

"To who?"

"Trey. Obviously."

"He doesn't mind," Jake said.

"How doyouknow?"

"Because it's in job description."

"Seriously?" I glanced toward the back seat. "Uh, Trey?" I said.

He ignored me.

"Don't worry," Jake said. "I’m paying him plenty. So go on. Spill it."

This was beyond strange. Jake had come from a poor family, and that was putting it mildly. I glanced around, taking in the exotic car, the designer clothes, and the professional butt-kisser in the back seat. Since when did Jake Bishop have employees? As far as I knew, he'd never evenbeenan employee, much less an employer.

Stalling, I snuck another glance at Trey before returning my attention to Jake. I lowered my voice. "Exactly how much are you paying him?" I asked.

"If you want, you can askhim," Jake said. "Otherwise, none of your business."