Fiance by Fate (10 page)

“How about a toast?” He lifted his flute.

“Okay,” she said, mimicking his gesture. “To successful goals?”

They clinked glasses, then Jack drank deeply, finishing off his glass. She did the same. Her head was already feeling a bit dizzy. Maybe champagne was a bad idea. Or maybe she was caught up in the excitement of tonight—that kiss, her fight with David, Jack’s odd behavior.

Jack was definitely different tonight. He wasn’t supposed to be charming or funny. He should be annoying and self-righteous. She thought she’d be counting down the seconds until her “date” with him was over. But instead, she found she was enjoying herself. Jack had a way of sneaking up on her, like a cold or…a chin hair. She had to turn away from that easy-going smile of his to even remember what they’d toasted to.

Successful goals, stupid
. David,
not
Jack’s ocean blue eyes.

“Is David looking over here?” she asking, forcing herself to concentrate on what mattered.

“Nope.”

“He’s not?” She was so sure David would be seething and unable to keep his eyes off of them. What happened in the span of ten minutes?

“Wait, he just looked over.”

Ah-ha!
She knew it.

Smiling, she took a bite of her quiche and watched as Jack picked up the bottle and refilled their glasses. Everything was back on track. She was so happy she almost couldn’t catch up with her thoughts. This was too simple. She still couldn’t believe how easy it was to make David jealous. She knew all along he cared and this proved it. Soon, they’d be engaged again, just like Madame Butterfly predicted.

She sighed into her flute and took another sip. The family she always longed to have was within reach again. Her life was finally coming together. She finished off her second glass, and her mind began to float, feeling as if she were swinging on a star. But, she wasn’t worried, because no matter what, she knew from now on that star would be a lucky one.

Chapter Seven

“I promise to shut up now,” Sabrina said, slapping a hand over her mouth. But she continued to talk through her palm anyway. “I’ve been saying way too much. That always happens when I drink champagne. And when I drink beer. Or vodka. And—”

“I get it,” Jack said, entertained. “Maybe you should have a little more to eat.”

She saluted. “Aye, aye.” Then as she lowered her hand, it landed in her cheesecake. “Uh-oh, cleanup in aisle three.”

He smothered a laugh as he tossed her his napkin. Sabrina was drunk. Well, not exactly
drunk
drunk, but she was well past her limit, which was obviously minuscule to begin with.

Not that it was his fault, Jack reminded himself again. She didn’t have to finish her glass every time he refilled it for her. And whose idea was it to get a second bottle anyway?

Okay, it
was
his fault. Sabrina was going to murder him—when she sobered up.

Too bad, because they were actually getting along for once. Now that she let her guard down, they even managed to have fun—something he hadn’t had with a woman outside the bedroom in a long time.

Jack gazed across the table at her. Sabrina seemed intent on playing with her dessert and hadn’t noticed him watching her. The night was chockfull of surprises. It wasn’t every woman who knew just as much about baseball as he did and even enjoyed discussing it. This was the most mellow he’d seen her. Usually she was all wrapped up in anxiety and spreadsheets, which was why he couldn’t resist egging her on whenever he had the chance. She made it almost too easy. And way too much fun.

There really was nothing sexier to him than a woman all riled up with anger. It was just another form of passion in his book. And Sabrina seemed to have more than an average share. Especially when she looked like she could melt an iceberg with the heat radiating from those baby-blue eyes of hers. The way her cheeks flamed pink and those soft, generous lips of hers pouted and got all—

Uh-oh. Where’d that thinking come from?

That kiss.

Mother of mercy, who knew she had such deadly precision with that mouth of hers? Something had ignited between them from the moment their lips had touched. He knew it was wrong, yet here he was wishing those lips were on his again. What an idiot he was. He couldn’t involve himself with her. Hell, she barely liked him.
And
she was engaged.

Sort of.

Jack continued to study her. There was something mesmerizing about the way the candlelight reflected in her dark hair—how it flowed just slightly past her shoulders and looked smooth and glossy, like rich melted chocolate. He was struck with an irresistible urge to reach out and feel it.

And that’s when he decided to call it a night.

“All right, let’s get you home,” he announced.

Sabrina didn’t lift her eyes from her dessert she was making fork tracks through. “What about the check?” she murmured.

“It’s already paid.”

She frowned. “But I told you I wanted to go Dutch.”

Jack sighed.
Doesn’t this woman ever turn it off?
Four sheets to the wind and she was worried about paying her share. “No, friends go Dutch. Fake girlfriends get their meals paid for by their fake boyfriends. Now let’s get out of here.”

Sabrina finally looked up with huge innocent eyes, the corners of her mouth sagging south. “Didn’t you like your dinner?”

“Of course I liked my dinner.”

“Then why are you so crabby?”

Because I can’t stop thinking about those mouth-watering lips of yours and the way they moved against mine. Happy?
Although, if he confessed that little nugget of truth, he doubted she’d be happy at all. “Um, you didn’t offer me any of your cheesecake.”

She let out a beautiful laugh. “You had your own cheesecake.”

The way her smile burst through like sunshine had the direct opposite effect on his mood. “What can I say? I like to eat,” he said tightly. “Come on.”

“Is David still here?” she whispered.

“No, he left about twenty minutes ago.”

Her fork dropped with a
clank
. “What? Did he look forlornly over here before he left?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. But the truth was David had stared at them all evening. Jack didn’t know why he didn’t feel like sharing that information with her. Maybe because he found David’s actions rude. If Jack were dating Sabrina for real, he would have gone over there and made it known to him.

“How could you not know?” she asked. “You’re supposed to be my eyes and hears.”

He rolled his eyes. “You mean eyes and
ears
.”

“Oh.” She thought about it and nodded. “Yes, that’s better.”

He had to smile. “I thought so.”

She glanced at her watch and her eyes widened. “I should have called my landlord. I didn’t think I’d be out this late.”

“Your landlord has you on a curfew?”

She shook her head, and it flopped back and forth like a rag doll. “She’s having her apartment painted, and I told her she could stay with me. She’s probably asleep by now anyway.”

“Well, aren’t you Miss Congenial?”

She stared at him with a confused look. “No, it’s Miss Cassidy,” she slurred.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. The woman was adorable—
too
adorable. “I need a cigarette,” he murmured.

Her little nose wrinkled. “Ugh. You smoke?”

“I used to. Gave it up a few years ago, but still get the urge when I’m stressed. Started smoking in college. Probably the least of my bad habits back then.”

“Why did you start?” Sabrina rested her chin in her hand and gazed at him, all dreamy and sincere—and intoxicated. His eyes drifted to her mouth for the second time. She was doing that sexy pout thing again.

Jack had to clear his throat. “I don’t know. Probably because it got me through my mom’s death a little.”

She gasped. “You were so young. How did she die?”

Jack frowned. Sabrina obviously didn’t realize he never talked about his mom with anyone. There were certain lines you did not cross with people unless invited.
Ever.
And she most certainly had not been issued an invitation. But as Jack continued to stare into her soft blue eyes, a small chip of his resolve was taken out.

“She committed suicide,” he finally answered.

“Oh, no,” she whispered in horror. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to tell me that. It was a long time ago. At least it wasn’t messy. She took some pills and never woke up.”

“It was a long time ago, but you still must carry a part of that with you. Something like that you can’t simply turn off.”

Her conviction made him think she spoke from experience. But he didn’t want to share any more of himself with her tonight. He preferred fun and detached—unemotional. He feverishly tried to brush off the way the warmth in her eyes was making him feel. “No, you can’t turn it off, but you
can
break the nozzle.”

The look on her face told him that line was an instant party killer. But he didn’t want to spend time pouring his heart and soul out to her. It left him too vulnerable. Something he hadn’t been since his mother died.

“Let’s go,” he said shortly and stood up.

Sabrina jumped up with him, but obviously too fast, because it sent her swaying into him. Jack automatically wrapped his arms around her and stood her up straight. “Easy does it,” he murmured. “Can you walk out of here?”

She nodded, then squeezing her eyes closed, shook her head.

“Okay, lean on me and we’ll be home before you know it.”

As they walked through the dining room together, her arms hung around his waist and she pressed herself farther into his chest. Jack gritted his teeth. Great. Couldn’t she just be normal and not have to smell like some fancy vanilla dessert he could devour in one bite? What was he, made of wood? He cursed himself for that analogy, and, deciding he may have had too much to drink as well, called for a cab.

Jack led her to a plush sofa in the lobby and sat down next to her to wait for their ride. Then thinking better of it, he shifted over several inches. Then a few inches more.

Don’t touch her anymore
, he advised himself.
Your defenses are down, stupid. You had too much alcohol and are obviously not in your right mind.

All he needed to do was drop her off at her place, go back home, and sleep off any effect the alcohol may have had on him tonight. Tomorrow when he woke up, she’d go back to hating him and he’d go back to thinking of her as just a nice, sweet, high-strung girl. Everything would be normal again.

After all, Jack didn’t want her. He only wanted his rightful position in the company. Nothing else. Making a play for his fake girlfriend and business partner—who was practically engaged—wouldn’t help his chances any.

He kept his eyes focused straight ahead and continued his mental lecture as Sabrina wiggled closer. Then on a sigh, she wove her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder.

Jack mouthed a low curse—and wished like hell he hadn’t quit smoking.

…

A high-pitched shriek had Sabrina’s skull splitting open like a coconut.

“That’s what you get for drinking on a weekday,” she muttered to herself.

Spread out on her bed, she attempted to roll over but could barely move because of the pounding pain in her head. Trying to reach for the snooze button, she realized with dismay that the sound she heard hadn’t come from her alarm clock.

Her head shot up when she heard another shout.

Grabbing the baseball bat hidden underneath her bed, she held her head and ran for the living room. Stopping short at the entrance of her kitchen, she saw Mrs. Metzger holding an empty glass in her hands and Jack brushing a huge red stain down the front of his white T-shirt.

“Jack!” Half out of breath, she turned to Mrs. Metzger. “What in the world’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Jack interrupted. “This woman threw tomato juice at me.”

Mrs. Metzger indignantly set a hand on her hip. “I could have done a lot worse. You scared the jimmies out of Theo and me.”

Sabrina glanced around and saw the cat nowhere in sight. Jack’s large frame, on the other hand, she’d have to be punched in both eyes to miss. No wonder Mrs. Metzger reacted the way she did. Taking up almost all the room in her tiny kitchen, Jack stood there tall and menacing with his shadowy beard and gruff expression. The look in his blue eyes practically screamed,
I’m about to blow at any second
. It almost made
her
take an involuntary step back.

However, on second glance, Jack’s disheveled hair combined with the tomato dripping from his chin and chest had her biting back a laugh despite her aching head.

His angry glare now aimed in her direction. “This isn’t funny.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, struggling for composure. “Having V-8 thrown in your face first thing in the morning isn’t the least bit funny.” She set down the bat on the counter and folded her arms at him. “But I’d like to know what you’re doing here.”

Jack took the stack of paper towels Mrs. Metzger handed him and began blotting his face. “You invited me to stay, but I can see I got more than I bargained for here.” He cast a meaningful glance at her landlord.

Sabrina’s mouth dropped open. “I did what?”

“Excuse me,” Mrs. Metzger broke in. She stopped wiping the floor and inspected Jack. She seemed to like what she saw. “Who are you, anyway?”

He held out his hand, suddenly all business. “Jack Brenner. I’m the new boyfriend.”

Oh, no.
Sabrina gingerly held a hand over her eyes.
The lies continue
…

“Boyfriend?” Mrs. Metzger looked at Sabrina for confirmation, and she could only manage a slight shrug. “Oh, I’m very sorry,” she told him, shaking his hand. “I didn’t hear you two come in last night. Had I known Sabrina was going to bring home a…a guest, I wouldn’t have attacked you like I did.” She set down her mug and leaned slyly into Sabrina. “You did good,” she said with a wink. “I’ll go change now, but there’s more juice in the fridge.”