This Crazy Little Thing (A New Adult Billionaire Romance) (6 page)

He chuckled, and even with the bass making mincemeat of her eardrums, that wonderful sound found its way to her ears and her heart.

“Yes?” she yelled, motioning toward the dance floor, which was filled to capacity with jumping, shouting men and women. “Come on! It’ll be fun.”

“What the hell.” He took her hand and led her into the crowd, stopping somewhere in the middle and gathering her into his arms.

If there truly was a heaven on earth, she’d found it. There, in the middle of mayhem, with people hopping up and down and slamming into each other, she’d found peace. Content to stay there forever, she looped her arms around his neck, pressed her ear against his chest and inhaled his scent. Her body tingled wherever it made contact with his. And wave after wave of warmth coursed through her body.

She tipped her head to look up and he glanced down at her. One of his hands pressed against her back, pushing her tighter against him while the other palmed her cheek. His thumb stroked her lower lip and she instinctively slipped her tongue out to taste it.

A spark flashed in his eyes as he tipped his head and lowered it until his mouth hovered painfully close to hers. Breathless, eager for his kiss, she closed her eyes and waited.

He didn’t kiss her. Instead, he tortured her by leaving his mouth a fraction of an inch from hers. Their breaths mingled as their breathing quickened. And her lower regions burned with the need to be touched. She ground her pelvis into his leg, pressing and rubbing, furiously trying to ease the ache between her legs as they swayed. His hands dropped to her bottom and rested there, and hers slid down his chest, her fingertips tracing the lines of his developed muscles through the thin knit material of his T-shirt.

It was a magic moment, the most erotic, intense experience of her life. Their gazes locked and she could tell he too was overcome by the intensity. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips and she mirrored him. They didn’t speak, there was no need for words. Everything that needed to be said was conveyed through their eyes. In his, she saw the confusion and hunger, the fear and hope. It hurt to see him that way.

Then the song ended and with it the magic. Jason stiffened, stepping back when she lifted her hands, and gave her an awkward smile. “Shit, I can’t do this. My God…you…I could have…I mean, I want to…” He sighed. “I gotta go. Good night, Monica. You’ll be okay here, won’t you?”

“Sure. I’ll be fine. Bye.” She watched him as he pushed his way through the crowd then decided to call it a night as well. Being a very sexy, very available Monica—despite all the gawking stares—just wasn’t what she’d expected it to be.

That didn’t surprise her.

What did surprise her was finding Jason standing next to her car, his back turned, his head lowered as he scribbled a message on a piece of paper and slipped it under her windshield wiper. As he turned around to walk to his car, he saw her watching. “I…uh…” He ran his fingers through his hair as he visibly grappled for words. “God help me, but I want to talk about this.”

“About what?” Jane asked, wanting to be crystal clear about his intentions before jumping up and down with glee and making a total ass of herself. She hurried to get closer, hoping he’d forget all about talking and just get to the good part. She could only imagine what a make-up kiss would be like from a guy like Jason, especially after that incredible dance.

“Us.”

She did a little celebratory skip across a couple of empty parking spots. “You do?”

“Don’t look so happy.”

“Sorry. I’m finding it tough to contain myself these days.” She performed a little happy dance—including a shake of the tush—for his benefit then flung her arms on his shoulders and pressed her body to his. His erection was a stiff bulge that pressed against her stomach. “Looks like you’re having a hard time too,” she teased as she slid a hand down between their bodies toward his crotch.

“Cute.” He grabbed her wrist to stop her and gently pushed her away. “Uh-uh! Not yet. We need to take this slow. I feel like I don’t know you anymore. I need to know if this is really you or if it’s all some kind of act.”

“Oh no. This is no act. It’s me.” When he didn’t look completely sold, she added, ”You don’t believe me? Then let me prove it to you. Give me a chance to show you who I am. Let’s start over from the very beginning.” She held her hand out. “Hi, I’m Jen—er, Monica. Monica Starke.”

“Jen?”

“I…uh…that was my nickname in grade school. You see, there were two Monicas in my third grade class, so everyone started calling me by my middle name,” she said, not sure what Monica’s middle name actually was, and hoping he’d never read her driver’s license.

“Really? You never told me that.”

Looks like he’s buying it! Mental note to self, check driver’s license as soon as possible.
“How could I? We just met.”

He took her hand in his and gave it a shake, staring into her eyes as if he could see clear down to her soul. “Hello, Monica. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Now that we’ve gotten the formalities over, how about we sleep together?” she suggested, half-teasing, half-serious.

“Wow, mighty forward, aren’t you?”

Feeling a little naughty, she grinned. “What can I say? That’s me. I know what I want and I go for it. So what’s the answer?”

He stepped back and crossed his arms over his wide chest, clearly distancing himself. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that the man likes to be in control?”

“Sure. And in bed that’s exactly the way I like them. Completely in control, if you know what I mean.” She winked. This teasing, flirting stuff was a whole lot of fun!

Jason’s jaw dropped to his chest and then he laughed. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Do you expect me to apologize?”

“No. But that doesn’t mean we’re sleeping together either. I don’t have sex on the first date.”

“Was this a date?”

“See? We haven’t even gone on a date yet. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

“A really nice guy,” she answered honestly. “So when are we going to have our first date?”

“How about Friday? Seven o’clock?”

“Hmmm…I’ll have to check my calendar.” She smiled. “That sounds great! See you then.” She plucked the note from her windshield and fisted it before getting into her car. Jason, being the gentleman he was, opened her door for her and gave her a flirty smile as she slipped into the seat.

She read the scribbled message—
Call me. We need to talk.
—then slipped it into her wallet, taking a quick peek at Monica’s driver’s license while she had it handy. Monica’s middle name was Irene. Oh well. Hopefully Jason would forget her little fib. Closing her wallet and dropping it back in her purse, she started the car, opened the window and said “goodnight, sweet dreams”, in the huskiest voice she could manage.

His laughter echoed in her head all the way home. And her dreams were sweet that night as well. Very sweet.

Monday morning, Jane went to work early, hoping to catch Monica before she got into the office. She sat in the parking lot, waiting for her little subcompact car and her five-foot-two, plain-Jane body to arrive.

But what she saw wasn’t what she’d expected.

It seemed that Monica had made a few improvements. In fact, Jane hardly recognized her own body!

Her hair was darker, cut with shaggy, sexy layers around her face and very shiny. And her clothes fit her just snug enough to make the most of her curves.

Gasp! Monica had made her into a babe.

That wasn’t the only change Monica had made. The car was new. Fire engine red. And a convertible of all things!

All Jane saw were dollar signs. New hair, new clothes, new car. Had Monica maxed out all her credit cards in a week? Jane couldn’t exactly kill her if she had.

“Monica!” Feeling really strange looking at her own body from the outside,
Jane dashed across the parking lot.

“
Jane!” Monica smoothed her black skirt down her legs. “We need to talk.”

God, her voice sounded strange. “Yeah, we need to talk. Where’s my car?”
Jane asked, pointing at the convertible.

“Where’s my Lexus?” Monica pointed at the Honda.

“Long story.” Jane motioned toward the building. “Want to talk inside? We can use your office.”

“Sure.”

Jane hurried inside, unlocking the door with her key. She was relieved to see that no one else had made it in yet. They’d hopefully get at least an hour to talk things through in private before the rest of the staff made it in.

They both ran to Monica’s office and headed for the leather chair behind Monica’s desk. Monica made it there first.

“Maybe I should sit there, just in case Mr. Kaufmann comes in,” Jane suggested.

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot.” Monica shuffled around the desk and sat in the chair opposite
Jane. “What happened? Why am I you? How do we change back?”

“I don’t know. All I remember doing is making a silly wish and then the next morning I woke up in your bedroom.”

“This is your fault! What were you making a wish like that for?”

“That’s another long story I’d like to avoid right now if I could. Besides, how do you know it’s my fault? How many wishes have you had come true?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter. Can you un-wish it? I’d like my body back, if you don’t mind. Not that there’s anything wrong with yours.”

“Thanks. I think. I want my body back too but I don’t know how to make it happen. Heck, for all I know it wasn’t my wish that caused this. And even if it was I don’t know if I can un-wish it. I never expected it to come true. I’ve never had a wish come true before.”

“Neither have I, but you have to try something. We can’t stay this way forever. You wouldn’t believe how shocked I was to wake up in your sweats, in your apartment…in your body…last week! By the way, we have to do something about that little cave you live in. It’s a dump. And the neighborhood… I won’t even go out to check the mail after nightfall. The only good thing about it is the balcony.”

“Well, it’s affordable. I don’t have millionaire boyfriends buying me houses in the ‘burbs for Christmas like some people do.”

“Speaking of my boyfriend, have you heard from Jason?”

“Yes, you could say that. By the way, I like what you’ve done to my hair. It looks great.”

Looking very pleased with herself, Monica smoothed the glossy brown hair with her hand. “It does, doesn’t it? I have a fabulous hairdresser. It was quite a trick getting him to take me, since he doesn’t know who I am. But thanks to me you are now a client of the extremely talented Geoff Laroque at the exclusive Laroque Salon in Beverly Hills. He gave me the works last week. You needed it. Good grief girl, when was the last time you had a pedicure? Your toenails were gnarly. I don’t know how you dared show them at all this past summer. Please tell me you didn’t wear sandals or I think I’m going to cry.”

More dollar signs flashed through
Jane’s brain. Bells rang, lights blinked. That infamous cha-ching sound echoed in her head. “How much does the works cost at Laroque Salon?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I put it on your credit card. It went through without a problem. Couldn’t have been too much.”

“Oh no! What else have you bought? Those clothes look new.”

“They are. You owned nothing but rags. I couldn’t be seen in public dressed like that. You really should have more respect for yourself than that. You’re young and pretty. What’re you letting yourself go like this for?”

“I have more respect for myself than you do. You spend every penny you earn and more. I know. I tried to balance your checkbook. You’re drowning in red. And what the hell is Hometown? You’re sending them thousands every month. That’s no way to live, way beyond your means.”

“Hey! My money matters are personal. I can’t believe you’re snooping.” Monica’s pout looked silly on
Jane’s face and if Jane wasn’t so upset about this whole thing she might have found it funny.

“I’m just trying to help. That’s more than what I can say for you. All you’re doing is putting me in the poorhouse. How much is the car costing me?”

“I got you a great deal since you have A-plus credit. You got prime rates. The payment’s only three hundred sixty-five.”

Jane
felt sick. Monica was making a mess of her life. Somehow she had to stop her. “
Only
three hundred sixty-five? I can’t afford that!”

“Sure you can. You’ve been saving four hundred a month. I saw it on your bank statements.”

“I’m saving to buy a house. You’re ruining my life! You need to stop spending my money and quit snooping.”

“I didn’t snoop. Your bank records were sitting right there. And I am not ruining your life. I’m making some much-needed improvements. You, my friend, were stuck in a rut. This is exactly what you needed. Now, what kind of mess are you making of my life?”

“I’m not making a mess. I’m helping you. Your finances were a disaster, and you weren’t taking care of yourself properly. And Jason—”

“What about Jason?” she growled. “Tell me you haven’t pissed him off. It isn’t hard to piss him off.”

“I haven’t. We’re getting along wonderfully. In fact, I’m helping you get him back. That is what you wanted right?”

Monica jumped up and screeched. “You’re what!” She poked a finger at
Jane’s nose. “Don’t you dare touch him! That’s just plain yucky, considering you’re me and…you…you… I can’t believe this!”

“Then you don’t want him back?”

“Yes. Of course I do. I might even like to marry him someday. But I don’t want you to get him back for me. I don’t want you laying your hands on him and kissing him—or would that be me touching him? You touching him with my hands? Oh. My head hurts. I can’t think about this right now.” She started pacing back and forth, and despite being frustrated by Monica’s lack of appreciation for what she was trying to do, and her anger for what Monica had done to her bank account and credit, Jane noticed her butt looked pretty darn good in that skirt. It was weird, admiring her own butt.

“I haven’t touched him…much. Say, have I lost weight?”

“Five pounds.” Seeming to have forgotten their prior topic, Monica did a little pirouette. “Can you tell?”

“Yes! My butt looks smaller. And my hips. How’d you do it? I’ve been trying to lose weight for ages.”

“You were feeding yourself garbage. It’s a wonder you weren’t as big as a barge. I can’t believe what I found in your refrigerator! The processed meats and white bread. And pasta by the bucket. Chips, sweets… What were you trying to do to yourself? Eat yourself to death? And what was with all that ice cream in the freezer? I swear you had more varieties of Ben and Jerry’s in there than Meijers.”

“That was my emergency stash.”

“Looks like you were stocked for Armageddon. Please tell me you aren’t polluting my body with all that junk.”

Jane
shrugged and tried not to look guilty. “Not too bad.”

“Stand up and turn around.”

Jane stood and turned.

“Oh God! You are! Look at my butt! It has…” Monica gasped, “…bulges!”

Jane turned back around. “It does not. Those are called
curves
and they’re perfectly normal. A woman should have them. If you ask me, you were too skinny. It can’t be healthy being built like a boy…with big boobs.”

“I wasn’t asking you.” Monica pressed her hands on the stone surface between them and gave
Jane a stern look that was obviously meant to intimidate her. “Cut it out with the ice cream!”

Not in the mood for intimidation tactics,
Jane rested her hands directly across from Monica’s and stared her right in the eyes. Staring in one’s own eyes was kind of creepy. “You stop spending my money!”

“I’ll bet you even ate red meat, didn’t you?”

“Yeah? Well I’ll bet you’ve maxed out one of my credit cards, haven’t you?”

“I maxed them both out.”

Jane gasped. “Both? You bitch! You spent four thousand dollars in one week? Well, I ate a roast beef sandwich, tortilla chips and a quart of Chocolate Therapy and I’m not through eating yet! Hmmm…I think I’m in the mood for pizza today.”

“Pizza?” Monica screeched. “Don’t you dare!”

“Or maybe a big, juicy hamburger with extra mayonnaise and a super-sized order of French fries. I’m going to put on a pound for every thousand you spend.”

Monica leaned closer. “You wouldn’t!”

Jane leaned so close their noses almost touched. “I would. Want to risk it?” Several heartbeats pounded in her ears before Monica backed away.

“No. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep my shape?”

“And do you have any idea how hard it is to keep my credit score?”

They looked at each other for a moment, their chests heaving, their noses almost touching, their faces twisted in anger and then they started giggling uncontrollably.

“Truce?” Jane offered, still laughing.

“Truce.”

They shook hands.

“This is crazy.”
Jane dropped into the chair behind her.

Monica rested her butt on the desk and nodded. “We both must be insane.”

“I don’t know how this happened but I’m kind of glad it did,” Jane admitted. “I’ve always been a little bit jealous of you.”

“Believe it or not, I was always a little jealous of you.”

Monica envied me?
“No? Really? Jealous of what?”

Monica toyed with the Rolodex, spinning the wheel and making the cards flip over and over. “I don’t know. You seemed to have it together. Your life was maybe a little boring, but it seemed predictable. Safe. Not chaotic like mine was…is. It’s still a mess, isn’t it?”

Jane nodded. “A little. I honestly don’t see how it got to be so bad. By the way, your car was repossessed. Just thought you should know.”

“Repossessed? By whom? There isn’t a bank loan.”

Knowing an outburst was coming, Jane cringed. “By Jason. You didn’t pay your insurance again.”

Sure enough, Monica jumped up and yelled, “He did? What a jerk! That was my car. He had no right.”

“I’m very sorry but I checked it out. Legally the car belonged to him and if what he said was true, he had every right.”

“What? What’d he say?”

“According to him, he’s paid out two legal settlements for accidents—”

Monica crossed her arms over her chest, and
Jane noticed her cleavage seemed a little…more cleaved. “They were little fender benders.”

“Did you get me a boob job too?” She pointed at Monica’s chest.

“Nope. Just a Wonder Bra. They do wonders, don’t they?”

Jane
nodded and stared at Monica’s chest, admiring the way the bra pushed her breasts together and made them look fuller under her white button-down shirt that was unbuttoned one button too many. “I had no idea. Don’t you think you’re showing a little too much? I mean, I don’t want to be known as a slut.”

“No, I’m not showing too much.” Monica looked down. “And you have nothing to worry about. You’re known as a prude. By the way, I’m curious. Did you go to Catholic school?”

“Yes.” Jane felt her cheeks heating.

Monica shook her head. “That explains a lot. Are you still a virgin?”

Jane gaped at Monica for a moment then stammered, “No, I’m not a virgin.”

“When was the last time you had sex? You seem rather uptight. Maybe I should—”

“No way! If I have sex, I’d like to be there to enjoy it, thank you.”

Monica laughed. “Yeah, I suppose you have a point.”

“Enough about me and my sex life, okay? We were talking about you and your car situation. Your little fender benders cost Jason thousands of dollars. As long as the car’s in his name, he’s responsible.”

Monica dropped back in the chair. “He wouldn’t put the car in my name, claimed he couldn’t for some legal reason. Same as the house, since the mortgage is in his name. It won’t go into my name until I either refinance on my own and take his name off the loan, or thirty years from now when the stupid thing’s paid off. You think it’s so great having rich boyfriends give you things. But it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Nothing’s really yours.”