All Bets Are On (2 page)

“Yes,” Minos agreed. “Let’s do something with his boat.”

“Oh, but I love that boat,” Phlegyas responded, a look of horror on his face. “Not the boat.”

Before Derek could reply, a bell sounded and an aging bald guy walked into the showroom, a cheap blonde of no more than twenty hanging off his arm.

“Customer,” Derek said and headed out the door.

“Wait, I have one more thing to do.” Cerberus turned back to the computer and lifted the lid as the others left for the showroom.

Derek wondered again what they’d been up to, but put it out of his mind as he headed toward his customer, hand extended. This guy was all his. “Hello,” he greeted. “I’m Derek Wescott. What can I help you with today?”

As their hands touched, he could see clearly that this bastard deserved what was about to come to him. His mother wanted him to be ruthless? He grinned as he pumped the man’s hand.
No problem
.

Chapter Two

Later that evening,
as Jaclyn laced up her running shoes, the phone rang. She looked at the display then answered it. “Hi, Ellen.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m at Walmart buying supplies and the shelter’s credit card was denied.”

“Denied?” Jaclyn’s throat tightened.

“What should I do?”

“Would you mind using a personal card? I’ll make sure Trish writes you a check first thing tomorrow.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Sorry about that.” Jaclyn disconnected the phone and hit the speed dial button for Trish’s phone. It went straight to voice mail.

Damn.

As Rufus followed her, his leash in his mouth, she sat at the computer. “Just a few more minutes,” she promised, then booted up the machine. It only took a few minutes to log into their foundation’s bank accounts. She stared in stunned disbelief at the screen, her stomach plummeting. Their accounts were almost empty.

“How is that possible?” She snatched up her phone and stabbed Trish’s number on her contact list again. Luckily, this time she answered.

“Hey, Jaxs. What’s up?”

“Where’s all our money?”

Silence.

Nausea rolled through her stomach. “Trish!”

“It’s gone. Bills. You know. Running a non-profit is expensive.”

Jaclyn shot to her feet then wavered unsteadily. She grabbed the back of the chair. “But I don’t understand. Why haven’t you said something?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Worry me? We’re partners. A team. You can’t keep something like this from me. For God’s sake, Ellen’s at Walmart. Her card was denied. I told her we would reimburse her. How are we supposed to do that?”

“And we will. I’m sorry, Jaxs. We’ll be okay. We always are. There are two balls this weekend. We’ll get some donations. Trust me.”

Jaclyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She did trust her. Hadn’t Trish always come through for her throughout the years? “All right,” she said, her voice cracking over the lump in her throat.

“But speaking of the balls, I do need a favor.”

Jaclyn’s legs weakened and she collapsed into the chair. “What?”

“I need you to take my place at the Rutherford ball.”

“What? Why?” Horror seized her insides. “You have to go. We need the money. Desperately. This is your thing, what you’re good at!”

“Don’t worry, Jaxs. I promise I’ll go to the Adamson ball on Saturday, but I just can’t make Rutherford’s, even if it is at the Trump Resort in Miami Beach.”

“But those fancy parties are your purview. I’ll never survive on my own.”

“I can’t go to them all, and I definitely can’t make it to Rutherford’s. Hopefully Mr. Drooler will work out and you can take him.”

“Wait a minute. I was only joking about taking that guy. I can’t take a complete stranger. Besides, why do I need to take a date? Why can’t I go on my own?”

“You could, but it would be better if you didn’t. That way, all those old-bitty wives don’t have to worry you want more than a donation from their husbands. And if you can get your date interested, he can ask for money, too.”

Jaclyn swallowed the bitterness burning her tongue. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“You’ll be great. Wear that red dress of yours and straighten your hair. Those hoity-toity types won’t know what hit them.”

“Thanks,” Jaclyn said dryly. She pictured herself as Jessica Rabbit—all slink and sex appeal. Not. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

Trish’s voice was still ringing in her ear even after she’d hung up the phone. She grabbed Rufus’s leash and headed out the front door for her nightly run. Trish’s certainty that they could pull their asses out of the fire this weekend wasn’t sitting well. Especially since she wasn’t even going to be at Rutherford’s. Jaclyn was crazy to let her friend talk her into these things. First a blind date, and now this bleeping charity function. But what choice did she have? They needed that money, and she’d do whatever it took to get it. Even if the last thing she wanted to do was get all dressed up and go to a ball.

She hated those things, everyone in their fancy clothes looking like they were on a photo shoot from
Who’s Who
Magazine. All the while pretending they knew and liked each other. Definitely not her cup of tea. And now she had to bring a date! She ran harder and faster, trying to outrun the images racing through her head, the thoughts that her life was taking a slow circle down the proverbial drain.

When she and Trish first started their foundation, a daycare for homeless kids, they had an arrangement. She dealt with the kids, the parents, and running the facility, and Trish handled all the paperwork. Including the fundraising. Apparently neither of those seemed to be going well. Argh, she’d just have to suck it up if she wanted to get them out of this hole. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind, focused on her breathing, and cut through the park heading toward the beach.

Her shoes slapped against the pavement, the rhythm soothing her. She liked to run along the beach at dusk, where the sky exploded into rosy hues over the water as the night darkened around her. There was no place else she would rather be and as she watched Rufus huffing and puffing beside her, no one else she’d rather be with.

She didn’t need a man in her life to keep her happy. She didn’t need conversation, didn’t miss having to ask permission for what she wanted to do, to buy, and she certainly didn’t need the stress of trying to make another person happy. This way, the only person she needed to please was herself.

And Rufus.

“Isn’t that right, boy?” she yelled.

Rufus barked and she smiled.

She had Rufus, and she had her kids at the foundation. She didn’t need anything or anyone else.

She certainly did not need a man.

Or a family.

She was crazy to have let Trish talk her into a blind date. She hated blind dates. Hated dating. Period.

She sighed. Hopefully the guy wasn’t too hot, because as far as she was concerned, hot men were all around no good. And not one had ever proven her wrong. Luckily, she didn’t have to worry about that with Mr. Drooler. She’d show up at Morning Joes for a quick cup of coffee and see if her blind date could string two words together. If he could, she’d ask him to accompany her to the Rutherford fundraiser, then that would be it. No encores. No commitments.

And screw Trish—she would bring Rufus to her meet and greet. He liked coffee, too. And if Mr. Drooler didn’t like that, then so sorry, so sad. Get lost.

…

Derek waited for Cerberus and the others to leave for the night
then headed into his minion’s office. Those three had been up to something. He’d heard them wagering with one another and they each had that sneaky I’m-up-to-no-good look about them, which meant only one thing: trouble.

Cerberus’s laptop was sitting top and center of his desk. Derek pulled up a chair and lifted the lid. He clicked open the browser and flipped through the tabs until a picture of himself, a bad one at that, filled the screen on the Hot Singles website.

“What the hell?” he bellowed. “How did they get that picture? And what was it doing on the Internet?”

Minos stepped into the room, his two partners in crime filling the doorway beside him. “Really wasn’t that hard, boss.”

“A Hot Singles website? What the hell were you thinking?”

Minos shrugged. “That you needed to get laid. You’re fucking impossible to work with anymore.”

“Excuse me?” Derek flung out his hand and sent Minos soaring out the door and across the showroom floor. “How dare thy judge me!” he roared, his voice echoing through the rooms.

Cerberus crouched down, snarling, holding the hellhound within him at bay, while Phlegyas soared to his full height, turning molten as anger flared inside him. Within seconds Minos was back, tucking his shirt, puffing up his chest, his serpentine eyes slitting. “That all you got?”

Derek growled deep in his throat. “Do you really want to do this right now? Do any of you?”

“Seems to me it needs to be done.” Cerberus barked.

Derek hit the button deleting his Hot Single profile.

“Too late,” Minos said, his slitted eyes sparkling. “You already have a date.”

Derek jumped up, the walls rumbling around him as his feet pounded against the concrete floor. “Are you shitting me?” He bellowed, the showroom glass rattling with the thunderous sound of his anger as he grew, expanded, and filled the room, his skin smoking.

Gaining control of himself, Cerberus stood upright, looking human once more. “Calm down, Boss. We thought it would be the best thing for you. You need a distraction, something to sink your teeth into, so to speak. And well, she’s a real nice girl,” he added, his upper lip lifting in a smirk.

“Nice! You think I want or need nice?” Derek boomed. He leaned over and clicked open the email. One of those numbnuts had been conversing with a woman on his behalf—a Jaclyn.
A nice girl
. He felt himself shifting back into his human shape. He clicked on her profile.

“The nine circles of Hell!” he cursed. The poor woman gave definition to the word boring. No wonder she had to stoop to using a dating website. Mousy brown hair and mud green eyes covered up by dark rimmed glasses. A grandma button-up shirt. He couldn’t see her skirt but if he had to bet, he’d say it was gingham and covered every bit of her pasty white skin. And apparently he was going to have coffee with her at ten the next morning. “In a cold day in Hell!” he blurted out loud.

“What are you going to do?” Minos demanded. “Crush that poor girl’s hopes? It’s just a cup of coffee. And she’ll be so thrilled you’re having coffee with her, she might even give you a little tail right there in the parking lot. She’s absolutely perfect for you and just what you need.”

“In what century?” Derek snapped. He didn’t date homely, needy girls. He liked them busty, blonde, and superficial.

“This one. You know, the one where you haven’t been laid in the last hundred years.”

“Get over yourself,” Derek said. “It hasn’t been that long and I’m not going out with charity cases. Can you imagine trying to make conversation with that girl? She probably hasn’t spoken to anyone but her cat for years.”

“Since when do you want conversation?” Cerberus demanded. “This one will be so tongue-tied she will barely be able to speak. Seems perfect to me.”

“What would it hurt to go out with the girl?” Phlegyas asked, clasping his hands together in front of him. “I bet she’s so excited, she can’t hardly wait.”

“Yeah, imagine how her little, dull green eyes must have lit up at your email.” Minos snickered.

Derek glared at him, wishing his eyes could shoot fire. He was going to make the man pay. He didn’t know how yet, perhaps a dunk into the river of boiling blood and fire. One way or another, he would pay.

“Her small breasts must be heaving as we speak,” Cerberus said, bursting into laughter. Minos and Phlegyas joined him until all three were rolling on the floor, holding their stomachs.

“You are disgusting,” Derek said. “All of you.”

“Oh, come on, Derek.” Minos got to his feet. “We’re just having a little fun. You need to lighten up.”

“Yeah, drop a load!” Cerberus added, and they all erupted again.

Derek stormed out of the office before he did something they would all regret.

“Wait,” Minos called. “Let’s make it a wager. We bet you a wax and wash for every vehicle in the showroom that you won’t be able to get that sweet little mouse into your bed within the next forty-eight hours.”

“Are you shitting me?” Derek asked, astonished at the lengths they were willing to push this.

Minos’s lips lifted in a wicked grin. “Anything to get you laid, Master.”

“Yeah, but none of your mind persuasion tricks,” Cerberus added. “You need to get her there all on your own. If you can.”

“Yeah,” Phlegyas cackled. “Derek the human has to bed her, not Derek the Prince of Hell with any of his little tricks.”

Derek was ready to shed his human form right then. But instead he glowered and walked out the door. “You are assholes, all of you.” There was no way he was going out with that girl. But as he reached his car and tore off down the road, he realized they were right. If he didn’t show up at Morning Joes in the morning that poor woman would be devastated. Did he care?

For a full ten minutes he didn’t. But the longer he thought about it, the more he realized he couldn’t do that to her. He destroyed lives on a daily basis for people who deserved it.

She didn’t.

She was just unlucky enough to get sucked into one of his minions’ many games. He downshifted and pressed on the accelerator. Dammit, why the hell did he even care? He didn’t. But he supposed he’d go. It was only coffee. What the fuck better did he have to do anyway?

Chapter Three

Jaclyn tied Rufus to a table outside Morning Joes feeling entirely co
nspicuous. The Hot Singles dating site? That was the last place on earth she would ever look for a man. She hesitated outside the door and looked through the windows, but from her angle she could only see the front two tables. No tousled haired, sleepy looking droolers in sight.

Why was she doing this? Because she was a dumbass, and she always gave in to Trish. And not only that, if he was presentable, and she was nice to him, she’d have a date to tag along as she tried to raise money for her foundation. Trish knew the only way she would ever get Jaclyn out on a date was if it would benefit her kids, and probably arranged the whole thing by making sure she was too busy to attend Rutherford’s.

Damn. Jaclyn was selling herself for her job. How pathetic was that? But she had to replenish their funds, and maybe with a few extra donations, she would be able to put some awesome new play equipment in the back and perhaps be able to hire more help in the school. Those kids didn’t know where they were sleeping at night; at least they had somewhere to go during the day that was safe and secure while their parents tried to find jobs. There was nothing more heartbreaking than a family who struggled paycheck to paycheck. All those people needed was a break. Someone to care. Someone to say, “Hey, I believe in you.”

Fine
. A date to the Rutherford Ball might help her score double the donations, and this guy was the closest she was going to come to getting one. As long as he didn’t drool while awake. She bent down and patted Rufus’s head. “Be a good boy. I’ll be right back.”

He lay down.
Here goes nothing
. She took a deep breath and pulled open the door. There were only two men inside sitting by themselves, both with laptops open and cell phones pressed against their ears. Neither one looked like the man in the website’s picture. She walked up to the counter and ordered a latte, took a seat by the window, and waited for her coffee. Her unruly curls were pulled back in a tight ponytail that swished against her neck. She pushed her glasses up on her nose, took out her cell, and quickly checked her emails while she waited uncomfortably for Mr. Sleepyhead to walk through the door. She checked her watch. Five minutes late, not a great first impression.

The barista called out her name. She stood and picked up her coffee, then debated whether to return to her seat or sit outside with Rufus. Either way, five more minutes and then she was out of there. She dropped to her seat, her fingers drumming the tabletop. Before she could make her decision, the bell above the door dinged. A tall, stunningly good-looking man walked into the room. Couldn’t be her guy.

He smiled, teeth white, brilliant, and gleaming as he walked toward her. She looked around. Surely he couldn’t be heading toward her? But he didn’t take his eyes off her as each step brought him closer.

Oh, Lord. That couldn’t be him. No way he was the same man from the picture on the website. She swallowed hard and tried to catch her breath as six feet of tall, dark, and beautiful moved toward her. She didn’t date handsome men. Ever. It was her
numero uno
rule. She’d learned the hard way and had the burns to prove it. Handsome men were
no bueno
and trouble with a capital T. Shallow, self absorbed, egotistical, and all around not-good-dating material.

“Hi. You must be Jaclyn.” His voice, smooth like a fine malt whisky, burned her insides.

She choked over a swallow of her coffee, tears watering her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. His smile was already short-circuiting her senses. Her head started to shake back and forth. “Nope, not me.” She tried to stand, to force her legs to move and walk past him. But they refused to cooperate. What was she doing? She needed him. She needed a date. Her foundation needed the money!

His incredible, heart-stopping blue eyes crinkled in confusion. “But…”

Look at those eyes. Give him an inch, he’d take a mile and she’d be the one giving it to him. This hunk of God-given perfection wasn’t the kind of man who’d be around for the long haul. He was the kind of man who’d charm her off her feet, into his bed, and then use her heart as his doormat. No thank you. She wasn’t even going to fake it, to pretend that she’d be able to resist his charms. Her track record proved she couldn’t.

“But didn’t you agree to meet here? At ten? It is Jaclyn, right?” His smooth voice, deep and rich, sent little shivers racing through her system.

Perhaps she should deny it? Insist he was wrong, then turn and scurry away, mumbling something about mistaken identity. But she couldn’t get her damned traitorous legs to hold her up, and her blasted tongue couldn’t form the words.

He pointed to the cup sitting in front of her on the table with the name Jaclyn clearly written in black ink across the front.
Damn
. Heat flooded her cheeks. There was no denying it now. Pathetic. “Yes, I guess that is me,” she admitted.

“Is everything all right?” He actually looked concerned.

“Yes. No. I…” She was an idiot and she certainly was sounding like one. “I’m sorry. I’ve never been on a blind date before. I don’t think I can do this.” Her legs finally kicked into gear. She shot to her feet. “This was a mistake,” she muttered, wobbling and grabbing the table for support.

“What was a mistake?”

“You. Here. Us.”

He rocked back on his heels, a smile hovering around the corners of his lips. Gorgeous lips. Full lips. Soft and sensuous lips. Please, God. Don’t let him smile. She wasn’t sure her senses could take it.

“So let me get this straight. You don’t want to have coffee. I mean, obviously you have coffee. But you don’t want to have coffee with me?”

He looked so surprised it was almost pitiful.

“Yes. I know it’s hard to understand or to even believe, but I don’t want to have coffee with you. You” —she gestured up and down his Godly-like body, even then feeling the pull to touch him, to place her hands on the swells of his chest— “are obviously not my type and I don’t think it would benefit either of us to waste any more time going through the motions. Again, I’m sorry.”

She hurried past him, her cheeks burning with humiliation, her skirt brushing the floor as the word dumbass rolled off her tongue in quiet chanting mutters. She was an idiot to have listened to Trish. To even have shown up there.

A complete idiot.