Page 102 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
She took the decision out of my hands when she broke away from a conversation with the bride and groom and headed directly for me.
Nerves jumped in my fingers and under my skin. Heat crept from my chest up my neck and into my cheeks. I focused on keeping my face and voice devoid of emotion as she drew close.
“Hi Wilder.”
“Good evening, Jade.”
She gave me a wrinkle-nosed grin. “Don’t call me that. It’s too weird for you to call me by my stage name.”
“Very well. How was your trip from California…Jessica?”
Ugh.Why did my voice sound like that when I said her name? Like I was lingering over it, savoring each syllable? She must have noticed it too because her breathing changed.
This wasnotstarting well—I had to turn it around.
“My firm monitored all the guests’ arrivals,” I added in a sterner tone. “Your plane was forty-seven minutes late. Did you encounter severe weather?”
“Aren’t we all business?” Her glossy red lips formed a teasing curve. “What happened to the ‘Wild-man?’”
Inwardly I cringed at my old high school nickname. “He grew up. That was a long time and many miles ago.”
“I hear you on that one,” Jessica said, suddenly seeming weary. “We’re both probably completely different people at this point.”
She bit her lip for a second then said, “We should catch up—maybe breakfast tomorrow before I fly out again? Or a drink later tonight.”
That would be a no and afuckno.
I’d learned my lesson about being alone with her. I could sum it up in one word.
Don’t.
“I’m in charge of security tonight—no drinking. And I have to keep circulating to keep an eye on things. Tomorrow morning I’ll be busy getting guests to the airport and supervising the decoy vehicles for those who are driving.”
She raised a brow, looking less than pleased at my abrupt rejection of her friendly overture. Then her mouth formed a tight, sarcastic smile.
“Okay then. Well, it wasdelightfulto see you as always, Wilder.”
“Yeah. You too. Have fun at the party.”
I turned to walk away, intending to find somewhere to be alone with the pit in my stomach, but Jessica snagged the sleeve of my tuxedo jacket.
“Hey—before you go… I’m supposed to sing a song I wrote for Sully and Angelina, but I’m not sure how I’m going to get up on stage in this dress.”
She looked down at her skintight silver gown and sky-high heels, forcing my eyes to go there as well.
“Want to give me a hand?”
A hand. My heart. Whatever you want.
I’d always had difficulty refusing her, and it was no easier now, twelve years later. In fact, in the intervening time it seemed her power over me had only increased.
“Uh, sure. Let me go find some movable stairs or a box or something.”
“There’s no time.”
Jessica pointed at the stage where the band that had been playing was leaving. “Just give me a boost, okay?”
Suddenly, I was catapulted back in time to our childhood days when Jessica’s pleas for a hand-up into her brother’s treehouse or a push on the backyard swing set had produced nothing but annoyance… and then to years later when her request for help with blocking a theatrical scene had led to a forbidden kiss.
