Three Broken Promises
Page 12

“Not everyone is a jerk.” I raise my brow.
“Are you saying I’m a jerk?”
His earlier jovial, nothing-bad-has-ever-happened-between-us mood set me on edge. I’m the one who should be suspicious here, not him. And he’s too damn close. I have to spend the rest of the day with him, driving around in his car. Looking at him. Smelling him. God. “You don’t have the best reputation when it comes to women,” I say primly.
“So you’re holding that against me.” His gaze cuts to the windshield and he looks at the restaurant, lost in thought.
I become lost in thought too. I’m a confused mess of emotions when it comes to Colin. Mad, sad, frustrated, aroused—I’m experiencing all of that at this very moment. It’s the craziest thing. All my anger dissipates the longer I look at him. Studying his beautiful face, that firm jaw I long to trace with my lips, his perfect mouth I yearn to kiss . . .
“I want to prove you wrong.” His deep, determined voice breaks through my clouded brain, startling me. “I can’t take away my past. I can’t fix the things I’ve done to you and your family.”
Frowning, I shake my head. “Things you’ve done to me and my family? What are you talking about?”
“I promised them I would take care of you. I promised your brother.” Grimacing, he waves a hand, dismissing my question and his way-too-vague answer. “You want to start a new life and I’m not going to stop you. You deserve happiness, Jen. And if being where you are now doesn’t make you happy, then you need to go out and find that happiness. You deserve it.”
I press my lips together, foolishly overcome by what he’s said. We’re sitting in the parking lot of a lame restaurant having this profound conversation and it feels surreal. Makes me wonder if I’m making a huge mistake, leaving him. Leaving everything I know behind so I can forge a new start in life for . . . what? A change? A challenge? To escape my past?
My past is creeping up on me and bleeding into my present more and more. That’s enough to make me want to run and hide.
Reaching behind me, I rub my nape, brushing against the healing scabs on my butterfly tattoo with my fingers. Touching it grounds me, reminds me that I’m changing my life for the better. I’ve been thinking about Danny a lot lately. How he wouldn’t want to see me miserable. How he wouldn’t want to see Colin miserable, either.
It makes me wonder if spending so much time with each other is exactly what’s making us so miserable . . .
“Let’s go get lunch,” I say softly, desperate to change the subject before I say something really stupid. “I’m starving, and my interview’s in little over an hour.”
Without looking at me, he reaches for his door handle. He’s just about to open the door when I touch him, my fingers curling around his forearm. “Thank you,” I murmur.
He turns to look at me over his shoulder. “For what?”
“For encouraging me.” I don’t want to let him go. His arm is pure muscle and sinew, and I can feel the soft hairs tickling my fingertips. Dropping my gaze, I study his big hand, those long, capable fingers.
“I’d do anything for you, Jennifer.” I jerk my head up when he calls me by my full name, my startled gaze meeting his. “Someday I hope you’ll realize that.”
Chapter 10
Jen
“So you’re currently a waitress.” The woman glances over my application, her mouth screwed up in distaste.
I sit across from her, a narrow table dividing us. The interview is for a personal assistant to the vice president of an advertising agency. We’re in a tiny meeting room of some sort and I swear their air conditioner is broken. The air in the room is practically stifling and I’m tempted to fan my face for some sort of relief, but I restrain myself. “I am.”
She switches to look at my résumé, the one I’d agonized over for hours a few days ago, when I lined up these interviews. Fable helped me with it. Even Owen made a few contributions; the kid is surprisingly good in English and he spotted some mistakes.
But she barely looks at it, lifting her head to pin me with an assessing stare. “Almost all of your work experience is in the food industry.”
“It’s what I know, yes, but I’m more than willing to learn.” I lean across the table, ready to launch into the speech I’d practiced in my head during the drive here, ready to bust out all of those impressive words that will no doubt push her into hiring me on the spot. At least, I hope. “I’m new to the area and am looking to line up a position with potential to grow. I’m a quick learner and I really need this jo—”
“Do you know Microsoft Office?” she interrupts.
I press my lips shut, swallowing my speech. “Some.” It’s an exaggeration. Well, I can use Word, but nothing too fancy.
“Specifically Excel? I’m in constant need of spreadsheets.” She smiles, but it’s not genuine. She knows she’s got me. “How about PowerPoint? We give a lot of presentations here.”
“I . . . I can take a class,” I offer weakly, wincing. Local community colleges offer those sorts of courses all the time and I’m dying to go back to school. Once I can afford it . . .
“I appreciate the offer.” The smile turns condescending, just like that. Ouch. “We’ll be in touch.”
That’s it? I watch her stand and I do the same, pushing away from the table and bringing myself to my feet as if I’m in a daze. I shake her hand and she practically shoves me out of the building.
And I thought the last interview had been bad. At least that man had given me a solid ten minutes of his time, listing the duties of the receptionist position I was interviewing for, his gaze straying to my br**sts every few seconds, which kinda creeped me out.
Okay, fine, it really creeped me out.
It’s not as if I’m dressed indecently or anything. Straight black skirt and heels, a white, sleeveless shirt with a delicate lace collar and pretty little pearl buttons that run down the front. My hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail, and the pearl earrings my grandma gave me for Christmas when I turned thirteen dot my ears. Respectful, earnestly-looking-for-a-job clothes, and the guy still leers at me.
I can’t win for trying.
Breathing deep, I walk across the hot parking lot, the heat from the sun seeming to radiate upward from the asphalt in waves. I head toward Colin’s car, determination filling my steps. I refuse to get upset, but talk about disheartening. Every interview I’ve had today, including the spontaneous one I’d stumbled upon while at the restaurant waiting to be seated, ended badly.
I’d overheard the man in the restaurant saying he needed a marketing assistant and I’d barged right into his conversation, turning it into an appointment so we could talk more after I finished eating. I’d had the interview not even an hour ago with the gentleman, who ran a marketing firm, and it turned into a bust.
A complete and total bust—like I am.
“That was quick,” Colin says when I slide inside the car. I breathe a sigh of relief at the cold air blasting on me from the vents and I lean forward, letting the air wash over my heated skin. “Tell me they hired you.”
“I can’t, because that would be a lie.” Tilting my head back, I close my eyes, a little sigh of relief escaping me. I had no idea how hot and sweaty and worked up I’d gotten during that stupid, waste-of-time interview.
“You’re kidding me.” He sounds incredulous, and I sorta love him for that. I need someone on my side at the moment. I’m feeling like a total failure.
“No one wants to hire someone who has zero office experience to work in an office.” I settle into my seat, my eyes still closed. I wonder if he’d be offended if I napped the entire ride home.
“How do you get office experience if no one will hire you to work at an office?”
“That’s my point exactly.” I sigh again because it feels good. It also feels good to kick off these killer high-heel shoes I’m wearing, so I do that too. I swear my toes just sighed with happiness along with me as I stretched them out. “The woman was rude. Condescending. Looked down her nose at me and asked if I had Excel or PowerPoint knowledge. Of course I don’t, and she knew it.”
And I didn’t even mention my work experience at Gold Diggers. Not that I ever would. That’s no one’s business but my own.
“Want me to go in there and kick her ass for you? I totally would.” He sounds so hopeful I can’t help but laugh.
“I know you would and I appreciate that, but no. She’d call the police on you and that would end up ugly.” I shake my head. “This was such a wasted trip. Let’s go home.” I don’t even catch myself using the word home until it’s too late. The word had already flown out of my mouth.
But Colin doesn’t acknowledge it, thank goodness. “I thought you wanted to look at apartments, too.”
“What’s the point if I can’t afford them? I don’t have a job here. I’ll probably have to settle for a waitressing position at some shitty restaurant and make it work.” The thought alone depresses me and I squeeze my eyes shut again, trying to block out the dismal possibilities. I’ve messed this all up, but there’s no going back now. “I’ll tell myself it’s temporary, but we’ll all know that’s a lie. I’ll be a waitress my entire life. Oh my God, that’s so depressing!”
“Hey.” He reaches for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’ll figure this out. I know you will. So you’ve hit a couple of bumps in the road. This won’t be the first time or the last. You’re smart. You can make this work.”
“Sure I can. Says the girl who has nothing lined up, who gave you her notice and has nowhere to go in a matter of a few weeks.” I shake my head. “I’m a complete dumbass.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just anxious to really start living the life you want to live. I get that. I totally get that.” I crack open my eyes just in time to watch him bring my hand up to his mouth, brushing the softest kiss across my knuckles. My skin tingles from the contact and I curl my fingers around his, wishing we didn’t have all of this . . . past blocking us. He’s somehow put me on a pedestal and believes the two of us can never work out.
Wouldn’t he just die if he knew the truth? Talk about falling off the pedestal! It’s bad enough he knows I was a stripper. How would he feel if he knew I was basically a prostitute, offering hand jobs and bl*w j*bs for quick cash in the Gold Diggers parking lot?
God, that sounds sordid and disgusting!
“Take me home, Colin,” I whisper, my mouth going dry when his hot gaze meets mine. I see all the heat and want swirling in the pretty blue depths of his eyes, all of it directed at me, rendering me speechless.
It’s so ridiculous, what we’re doing. Why can’t we give in to this? I’m leaving. For all I know, I’ll never see Colin again. So what’s wrong with a little sex between friends until I move out and far away from that shitty little college town I keep calling home as if I secretly want it to be?
So scary, but the only time I feel safe, the only time I feel like I’m at home, is when I’m with Colin.
Colin
I like how she told me to take her home, though it took everything in me not to acknowledge that little slip. I like even more the way she sneaks looks at me as I drive. She thinks I don’t notice, but I do. Everything she does, I notice.
Drew’s advice has lingered in my brain all day long, so I’ve tried my best to keep it light and prove to her that I want her, yet instead I made her suspicious and questioning. I guess I can’t blame her. But it had felt damn good to flirt with her this morning when I first woke her up. God, what a sight she’d been . . .
I can still see the curve of her ass peeking out from those indecently tiny shorts. How she’d looked in her sleep, her long hair down and spread across her pillow, lips parted, eyes closed as she lay on her side. One leg slung on top of the comforter, which was pushed down to her waist. Revealing the tank top she wore, which did nothing to hide what she looks like when she’s not wearing it.
It made me want to dive under those warm, soft covers with her and touch her. Run my hands over her skin and slowly wake her up until she’s a moaning, writhing, needy mess beneath me.
Yeah. Didn’t happen.
We’re quiet during the drive back home, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. Before we even left Sacramento, I turned on the satellite radio I’m addicted to and scrolled through the channels until I found a decent station. The drive isn’t bad, just about ninety minutes, and thankfully traffic isn’t too shitty. Jen falls asleep relatively fast after the occasional glance toward me and I leave her alone, thankful we don’t have to make pointless small talk.
My mind wanders as it usually does when I drive and of course, I think of Jen and what happened today. Is it wrong for me to be glad her interviews didn’t go as well as she’d hoped? It’s not that I don’t believe in her. The girl can do anything she sets her mind to and she’s smart as hell.
But I don’t want her to leave me. God, I’m a selfish prick!
Then prove yourself wrong, man. Prove yourself wrong.
Drew’s words ring in my head, the jackass. I wonder if he realizes how much our talk affected me. I’m running, just like he did before he realized his mistake. Or more like, I’m pushing her away. Doing my best to make us not happen, and now she’s on board with that thought too.
This proves I’m also an asshole.
The minute we reach the outskirts of town I turn the radio up, hoping to wake her. She stirs, murmuring something unintelligible, and I chance a look at her.