Page 6 of Finding Jacob
“Spain, although I left there many years ago. A poor immigrant,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and laughing.
“You don’t have a New York accent either, it’s…. softer.”
“I don’t live in New York. I own an apartment that I use when I’m here on business, but that’s all.”
“On business?” I wasn’t sure what I thought the Jacob I was going to meet did for a living. I assume acting since most jobbing actors often did a little escorting on the side.
“Yes. Now, I’d like you to try this wine,” he said, and then poured me a glass.
We spoke mostly about the food, of which he was very knowledgeable, and Spain. He kept a house there. He lived in many places worldwide, which is why, I guessed, he didn’t have a strong accent. It was a mishmash of countries. However, when he was talking about Spain, that accent was obvious. But would his name be Jacob if he was Spanish?
The more we spoke, the more he confused me. He had dark brown hair and light hazel eyes that didn’t quite match in colour, tanned skin, and a voice to fall asleep to. Although my body was screaming that sleep was the last thing I wanted to do!
I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been in a man’s company and enjoyed myself as much. He was attentive, wanted to know about me, gave very little about himself, other than to clarify where his accent came from.
As the evening wore on, the more I wanted him to be my plus one. Not because I wanted to ‘outdo’ my sister, but I wanted more time with him. It was with regret that our evening came to an end.
Jacob helped me on with my jacket and when his hand brushed over the back of my neck, the hairs stood on end. He took my elbow and gently led me outside where we stood on the pavement. He called for a taxi and when one arrived, he opened the door for me.
“Where to?” he asked, looking at me while leaning towards the driver.
“The Plaza.” Before I could give the full address, he nodded and repeated where to take me. He held the rear door open and then came that awkward moment of silence.
Finally, I found my voice. “Forget what I came here for originally, I’ve really enjoyed myself. Thank you for a pleasant evening.”
He took a step closer. “It doesn’t have to end here.” As if his voice couldn’t have gotten any more seductive, it just did, and a quiver rolled over my stomach.
“What do you propose?” I asked, standing upright and holding his gaze.
“The Plaza has a fantastic gin bar.”
“I don’t know, I haven’t explored.”
He held the taxi door wider and gestured with his arm for me to get in. As I slid across the cracked leather seat, a wave of nerves washed over me. I swallowed them down. I was the CEO of a major player in the fashion world, I met models and designers, arseholes and royalty on a regular basis, but nothing compared to sitting next to the Spaniard without a Spanish name. Just the sound of his breathing, deep and slow, had me aroused, and I wondered if he could smell me. I certainly could!
I crossed and uncrossed my legs several times and then I remembered something. Dory!
I needed to send her a text to let her know I was returning to the hotel with the real-life Jacob and, although our room had two bedrooms, if anythingprogressedfrom the gin bar, it was going to get awkward.
“I need to message my friend,” I said, retrieving my phone and holding it aloft for confirmation.
“Sure, go ahead.”
I sent a quick text.
You will not fucking believe this guy! Anyway, going for a drink, then…
She replied quickly and I suspected she’d been checking her phone regularly.
Woohoo! I’ve already sorted alternative accommodation for the night. Remember, MUM.
I highly doubt MUM will be necessary. But thanks, speak in the morning xxx
I sent the last text and then diverted my calls.
“All sorted?” he asked.
“Yes. She’s with my PA.”
