Bending Over Backwards (2 page)

Unfortunately, she could feel it in all the right places.

But this guy was really a shark in surfer’s clothing. Leo played the wounded hero pretty well, and she’d almost bought into it, but his disguise had fallen long enough for her to see the truth.

Jasmine knew his type better than she wanted to. These kinds of guys—wealthy, powerful, controlling—could turn on the charm for as long as it took them to get whatever they wanted, and then turn it back off again once they’d gotten it. No doubt he had a real injury, though who knew how much of the rest of his story was true? She wasn’t interested in finding out.

Snatching her card back from him, she shoved it in her bag.

“Bye, Leo,” she said, really intending to leave this time. “There are lots of good yoga teachers on the Cape. I’m sure you’ll find someone who can address your needs,” she said, not bothering to hide the innuendo.

“See you later, Jasmine.” There was a note of promise in his voice that no doubt had gotten more than one woman on the hook before he decided to throw them back. She ignored it.

Jasmine walked up to the parking lot where her car was parked, and peeked back behind her. He was still standing there, watching.

He waved again, like he had from the deck.

She got in her car, regretting that she was caught looking. Guys like Leo were all hard candy shell, nothing good inside. She knew that, and she knew there were better men for her to meet.

Her last relationship had ended a few months ago when her lover, a local teacher, had gotten a job in Virginia. Neither one of them had been interested in pursuing anything long distance. It was what it was, good while they had it, and then it was over.

She was okay with that; her life was here. She’d built a pretty steady foundation for herself, lifting her life out of the chaos of her youth. Now Jasmine had friends, her business and hard-won stability. And she had a solid rule about not dating guys like Leo. She’d had her fill of them back when she had been too confused and naïve to know better. When she thought they were what she wanted.

Guys in suits—powerful, suave men like Leo—were Jasmine’s kryptonite. She’d thought she was past it. Some women liked bad boys, cowboys, blue-collar boys, whatever. For Jasmine, none of them lit her fire like a man with a hard body and a sharp mind in a silver-gray suit. Throw in a pair of Italian dress shoes and she was butter on toast. Success was an aphrodisiac.

But that depended on how you defined success, she reminded herself. She wanted a certain quality of life, and while money was important, it wasn’t her goal. She wasn’t wealthy, but she was happy. She’d accomplished what she had because she counted on herself and made smart decisions. Leo was not a smart decision.

See you later
,
Jasmine
.

He had a great voice too. Dammit.

Jasmine sighed as she let herself in the front door of the small cottage where she lived, dropping off some things before she headed to the studio for the day.

Leo’s energy clung to her. She paused for a moment to look out at the deck, at the morning sun. Leo’s caramel-colored eyes burned through it all, as if he were watching her right now. Maybe because she could see that while he might be a shark, he was a wounded one.

All the more dangerous.

Whatever the reason, he’d done something that no man had done for a long, long time—he’d gotten under her skin, and quickly. He’d somehow disturbed the placid calm and balance she worked so hard for.

Jasmine closed her eyes and pushed him from her thoughts, focusing on her breathing and making herself focus.

But not on Leo.

Chapter Two

Jasmine sank into the seat at her desk, casting a lustful glance at the cushy sofa on the other side of the room.

She was exhausted.

She was fortunate enough to make a living doing something that she loved, something that made people happier and healthier. But too much success had her in a bind.

She had more students than she could handle, even though she’d let Amanda, her best friend, take a few of the walk-in classes that Jasmine had scheduled for tourists.

There was only so much one person could do, and she was running classes every day, all day. She used alternate schedules, teaching advanced and beginner yoga on different days, but it was still wearying.

She’d considered making DVDs to run sessions as she walked around and simply monitored progress; it was a real possibility. But it was also expensive to have professionally produced DVDs, and she had to get the copyright and so forth. Who had time?

She didn’t dare put her head down; she might fall asleep. The yogi in her knew this was wrong—her life was out of balance. The businesswoman in her told her that to succeed as a small business, you had to play hard. Yoga studios were popping up all over the place; she needed to stay competitive. Hiring extra people wasn’t as easy as it sounded. This wasn’t Boston or New York, and there weren’t a lot of local yoga teachers who didn’t already run their own studios. Also, she was hesitant to place her students’ welfare in someone else’s hands.

The chime over the door rang, and she looked up to see Amanda walk in from the street.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” she asked Amanda, smiling in welcome.

“I thought I’d drop by and see if you had any time in between classes to catch a break.”

“I have a whole hour before the next one, and I could use some downtime. Want to get an ice cream and sit outside for a few minutes? Fresh air and sugar might be almost as good as sleep.”

“That sounds great. You know you never have to talk me into ice cream, and with how many classes you’re teaching lately, you could get a double scoop. You look a little thin,” Amanda said, sizing her up. “Too thin. I could take over more of the classes if you need me to.”

“It’s been a lot, but I’m fine. Things will slow down in the fall and winter.”

“Jazz, you don’t know the meaning of slow down,” Amanda teased with a sigh, but there was a note of seriousness there too. Jasmine knew Amanda wanted to take on more responsibility, but it wasn’t as easy as that.

“You do a great job, Mandy, but I feel like I’m letting students down if I don’t show up. I know them, their issues, bad habits, goals, etc. It’s not that I don’t want you to take more classes, but maybe if you started taking new sign-ups, that would work better.”

“It wouldn’t lighten your load much.”

“But it would mean I don’t have to turn people away.”

“Good point. Okay, we can look at the schedule. Do you have many new students waiting for a spot?”

Talking as they walked in the warm August sunshine, Jasmine’s thoughts immediately went to Leo.

He hadn’t come by, as he said he would. No big surprise there. Once he realized she wasn’t an easy mark, he’d probably set his sights elsewhere.

“What was that?” Amanda said as they got in line for ice cream.

“What?”

“That face you made. Like you ate something sour.”

“Oh, nothing.” Jasmine waved it off. “Just when you mentioned new students, I was thinking about this guy who hit on me at the morning class today. What a tool. What a pickup story he had…”

Jasmine engaged in some healthy girl talk, telling Amanda about her conversation with Leo as they got their ice cream.

“Oh, that looks amazing,” Amanda said, eyeing the watermelon-chocolate chip cone Jasmine had ordered as she received and paid for her usual Turtle Sundae.

“My very favorite. Thanks for dragging me out.”

“Hmmm.” Amanda stared out into space as Jasmine finished the tale of Leo the amnesiac investment broker.

“Hmmm what?”

“You know, what you said about that guy rings a bell.”

“What? Sleazy guys trying to hit on us?” Jasmine joked, licking her ice cream.

“Well, that happens at least twice a day in tourist season,” Amanda agreed with a laugh. “But I meant the office shooter and the amnesia. I remember something about that in the news about a month or so ago. Several people were seriously injured, one woman died, that I recall. Security guards shot the guy before he could get anyone else. It caused a lot of discussion on Twitter and the net, since so many people think the investment brokers are basically villains, but no one deserves that.” She shook her head sadly. “I could swear they mentioned one of the victims having some kind of weird amnesia, but I can’t be sure.”

A little ripple of unease moved over Jasmine’s mind. Could Leo really have been telling the truth?

“He had a scar, but I don’t know if it was a bullet wound.”

“How many of those have you seen?” Amanda asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Point taken. Only on TV. But he was coming on to me, no doubt there.”

“You should probably trust your instincts. I need to do that too, where men are involved. Besides, the guy I read about pushed another person out of the way and that’s how he was injured. I don’t think that’s the kind of man who would make this up in order to score,” she said, shrugging. “But then again, who knows? Men can be jerks. Even ones you think are the good ones.”

Amanda’s long-term boyfriend had left her a month before, suddenly deciding that he wasn’t willing to settle down. Amanda wanted the house, kids, white picket fence, and he didn’t. Too bad he hadn’t saved her several years of thinking that was what they both wanted.

Jasmine nodded, but in her heart of hearts, doubt grabbed at her. The sadness and shadows in Leo’s eyes had been real.

She meditated on loving-kindness, a central tenant of her yoga practice, and she’d shown none of that to Leo. Even if he had been coming on to her, he wouldn’t be the first student who had done so. She could have easily redirected him toward a more positive interaction.

That was her job as a teacher. Her job as a human being was to have compassion and empathy. But for some reason, she’d reacted more strongly to him. Pushing him away. She’d let her old wounds dictate her response to him. Her old self, who was defensive and fearful of loss and hurt. But Leo couldn’t hurt her. No one could unless she let them.

“I have to get back for class. Thanks for the break—I feel much better. We can go over the schedule tomorrow?”

“Sure, that sounds good.”

“Okay, thanks.” Jasmine tossed her napkin into a sidewalk bin.

“Hey, Jazz?”

“Yeah?”

“Was he hot? You know, the amnesiac investment broker?”

Jasmine sighed and broke into a grin, shaking her head.

“Smokin’.”

“Well, if he comes back in, you can sign him up for one of my classes, then, since I’m taking over new sign-ups.” She left Jasmine chuckling as she made her way back to the studio.

Leo had returned to the beach house after talking to Jasmine, half-turned-on and half-pissed-off. It had been clear that she thought he was lying in an attempt to pick her up.

Who lied about an office shooting or being shot, or losing their memory? Did she really think he was that desperate to get laid?

Apparently so.

Ice had formed over her expression almost immediately, and she’d been clipped and cold when he mentioned having coffee. It appeared that along with losing his memory of his job, he’d also lost any ability to communicate with women.

He wouldn’t bother her again. He’d tried and failed, and he was going to leave it at that, or she’d think he was some kind of stalker.

He’d spent the rest of the morning working on the bookcase, but it wasn’t enough to relieve his agitation. He could take apart some of the toys in the kitchen—there was a box of old Tonka trucks and Matchboxes that he’d picked up that needed to be sanded down so he could repaint them. But that wasn’t an appealing prospect either.

It was after lunch, and his frustration grew until it was broken by the phone ringing.

Neal.

“How’s it going, Leo? You like the house?”

“The house is great. Gorgeous,” Leo said with more conviction than he felt. He was playing a part; with his memory loss, he didn’t know Neal any more than he knew anyone else at the office. Neal acted like his friend, and tried to help, but as time went on, Leo sensed Neal’s impatience. He wanted him back to work. Back to normal.

“That’s great. Any breakthroughs, yet?”

Leo pinched the bridge of his nose, but kept his tone calm and friendly. He so didn’t want to have this conversation right now.

“You’d be the first to know if there was.”

“Right. Listen, you know we’re taking on a new partner soon. I’ve kept your name in the running, but the sooner you can get back here, the better.”

No pressure. Right.

“Thanks. I appreciate you doing what you can, but—”

“I don’t know how much longer they’ll wait. There’s been nothing? You haven’t remembered anything at all?”

“Nope. Not a thing.”

“Huh. Okay. Listen, maybe if you emailed them or saw your doctor again, and let them know what you’re doing to make progress, that could help, or—”

It was like someone was pounding nails into his brain.