Page 10 of Long Story Short

Jake Richards in a dark suit was something to behold. My eyes trailed against my will down from his dark hair, ever so slightly still damp from his shower, to those hazel eyes you could get lost in, down to his freshly styled facial hair. Then my gaze travelled over his broad shoulders from which his dark jacket hung perfectly, the top of his crisp white shirt, and down to his long legs in his trousers and his polished shoes. He could have played James Bond if I was being honest. I swallowed hard and when I quickly moved my eyes back to his, his eyes were slightly wide, as if I had just caught him doing the same trail down my body. I highly doubted it but I was pleased he seemed momentarily surprised to see me looking so dressed up.

‘You look different,’ he said then.

‘Different?’ I repeated. Not exactly a compliment and he still looked a little bit shell-shocked. In a good or bad way? I couldn’t tell.

‘It’s not what you usually…’ He cleared his throat. ‘Never mind. Shall we?’

I nodded vigorously because this moment had become really awkward. ‘Yes. Let’s go.’

I turned towards the lifts and heard him close his room door and follow me. ‘So…’ I said, switching my brain firmly away from admiring his appearance to discussing why we were here. I tried to ignore the smell of his aftershave as we stepped into the lift together. It was sultry and appealing. ‘I think the best plan of action is to say hello to the two women who have organised the conference, and thank them for including you when we get there. Then we should circle the room and have you talk to as many authors and industry people as possible so they all know you’re here, and that you’re excited and happy to be part of the conference. Be… charming,’ I said, fixing him with a look.

‘I can be charming,’ he replied, looking down at me with a piercing gaze that caught me a little off guard. I quickly faced the front again. ‘I can do that,’ he added.

‘Excellent,’ I said brightly. ‘And we should only stay for an hour and a half.’

‘Okay. Why?’

‘So you don’t make any mistakes and so people can talk about you afterwards: about how you’ve changed, how good you look in that suit, blah blah blah…’ I waved my hand as the lift reached the ground floor and the doors opened. I stepped out.

‘You think I look good in this suit?’

I jumped a little bit as I felt how close Jake was to me, leaning down to ask me that in a low voice, his hand hovering just ever so slightly against the small of my back. And God, even though he barely touched me, I felt it like he had his whole palm on me. I strode ahead of him, unable to bear it, and hurried for the doors, hoping the noise in my throat came out as a dismissive snort and not an aroused moan because honestly, I was torn between both. ‘You look smart, which is befitting the event,’ I replied, reverting to my haughty voice again.

‘Befitting? Are we back in the eighteenth century?’

A doorman opened the door and we stepped out into the early New York evening. I ignored the amusement in Jake’s voice and glanced across the road at the tall hotel that we would spending a lot of time in this week. There was a lot of pressure on both of our shoulders and I wondered if it was making us interact in a way we never would have done ordinarily.

‘We could just walk in the opposite direction,’ Jake said then from beside me, his gaze fixed on the conference hotel too.

I glanced at him in surprise. ‘Jake Richards is nervous? Is that even possible?’

He looked down at me. ‘Don’t you dare tell anyone,’ he said, taking me by surprise yet again.

My brain felt kind of fuzzy, trying to work out his personality. One second, he was the cool, calm, all-business Jake, making me feel embarrassed for my excitement at being in New York, but the next, he was admitting he needed my help, telling me that he felt nervous and giving me a look that suggested he liked how I looked tonight.

Who was the real Jake and why did I so desperately want to figure him out?

I forced myself to focus on what we were here to do. ‘We only need to stay for an hour and half. We can do it. You’ve got this,’ I told him firmly. I took my phone out of my bag and set the timer, holding it up to show him before I stowed it away again. I nodded at the crossing telling us it was okay to ‘walk’. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Only an hour and a half. Okay then,’ he agreed, stepping off the pavement too.

We walked across the road and through the door of the modern hotel, following the sign for the romance conference and heading towards the large banqueting room.

I glanced at Jake but suddenly, the shakiness he had displayed outside was gone as if it had never been there in the first place. I blinked as he strode into the room, transforming into the confident man I’d always seen in our encounters. I thought that I could learn something here, follow in his stride, so I pulled my shoulders back from their current tense position and walked in after Jake, hoping that we were capable of turning the opinion against him with only five days to do it.

Once inside the long, narrow room crowded with people, we were greeted by a long welcome table and we joined the queue there.

‘Names,’ a bored-sounding woman said without looking up from her clipboard.

‘Freya Harrison and Jake Richards.’

There was a beat.

The woman looked up and her eyes narrowed as she took us in. I suddenly felt the gazes of the people around me. A conversation behind me ceased. Was it my imagination or did the air conditioning suddenly turn up, dropping the temperature in the room by a degree?

‘Oh.’ She paused. ‘How… interesting,’ she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘Here.’ She handed me two badges and looked down at her clipboard again dismissively.

‘Come on,’ I said to Jake, who was staring at the woman like he was desperate to say something, and based on our interactions so far, I knew that would turn out to be a very bad idea. ‘Come on,’ I said again, more firmly, putting my hand on his arm and steering him away from the queue and into the corner. ‘We were prepared for this,’ I hissed as quietly as I could manage, thrusting his name badge into his hand. I pinned mine on my dress, ruining the elegant vibes of the outfit instantly.

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