The Wager - Dyken Rachel Van (е книги TXT) 📗

A&E women scorned, here I come.

“Excuse me?” Aileen put her hands on her hips and did a weird head nod at Grandma, and nearly teetered off her high heels. Oh, this wasn’t good. Not good at all.

Grandma reached out and patted Aileen’s arm. “Sweetheart, I’m the one with hearing aids, not you. I called you a whore. Would you like me to spell it for you, too?” She nudged Jake. “What did you do? Find her at a high school career fair?” And then in a horrifyingly loud voice she began spelling. “W-H-O-R-E.”

Was his grandmother really spelling “whore” in an international airport? To his girlfriend? Sex buddy? What was she?

Shit, he didn’t even know her last name.

Probably a bad sign.

“I’ll have you know that—”

“Jake, I’m hungry. Take me to get food.” Grandma looped her arm in his and began pulling him, with more strength than an eighty-six-year-old woman ought to possess, toward security.

“But what about me?” Aileen pouted behind them.

Grandma stopped in her tracks and turned around. “Honey, I’m sure you can find another nice little plaything between now and the time your flight leaves. This one’s taken.”

Aileen snorted. “Didn’t take you for having that kind of taste.” This was directed at Jake. He opened his mouth to say, This is my grandma. Instead, Grandma smacked a large kiss on Jake’s cheek then pinched his ass.

“Oh, honey, you have no idea what this one is into.” She winked. Good God, she’d just winked and alluded to Jake as—he couldn’t even finish the thought. Horrified, he saw Aileen’s eyes widen. He opened his mouth to speak but was smacked on the ass again as his grandmother pulled him in the other direction.

Karma: It was finally coming for him. And it was in the form of an eighty-six-year-old woman with lipstick on her teeth. Hell. 

Chapter Two

“Breathe, Char, just breathe. In and out, there you go.” Char tried to even her breathing but was finding it very difficult, considering her sister continued to slap her across the back every time she opened her mouth.

“Hand me the paper bag.” Char jerked the bag out of her sister’s hands and began breathing slowly into it. Finally, after two minutes of thinking she was going to die, the panic attack receded.

“All better?” Beth whispered.

“No.” Char bit her lip and looked down the aisle. The very same aisle Jake Titus had, minutes before, walked down. He even looked in her direction, offered a polite smile, and then proceeded to go to his seat.

A smile.

That was all she was worth. One polite smile. It didn’t help that the plane chose that exact moment to hit the worst turbulence of her life.

But the icing on the cake, what really made this day the worst day of her life, was when the flight attendant’s boobs accidentally—right; accidently—fell out of her shirt and into Jake’s face.

The man needed to be neutered. He was like walking sex and everyone around him knew it. Even if he wasn’t a real celebrity, he still attracted women like rats to cheese.

She’d been a rat once. “Bastard,” she mumbled under her breath, clenching her hands into small fists.

But that had been years ago. She was jaded now. Wiser and stronger.

Yes, stronger. She was a public figure, for crying out loud! She could and would act like everything was fine.

And it was.

It was, it was, it was.

“Char?” Beth nudged her. “You’re rocking back and forth again. Do I need to get the bag?”

“Nope.” Char felt a smile curl at her lips. “I’ll be right back.”

Beth put out her arm to block Char’s way. “No, absolutely not. You’ve got that crazy look in your eyes. And I really don’t want you to go to prison. As your sister and future maid of honor, I cannot with good conscience let you by me.”

“I’ll buy you a new Louis Vuitton purse.”

“On the other hand… you are an adult and you can make your own decisions. Carry on.” Beth lifted her arm. “Black. I want the black one.”

Char rolled her eyes and made her way toward Jake’s seat.

The FASTEN SEATBELT sign was no longer on, so Char was in the clear. She’d practiced this speech ever since that fateful day last year when they’d reconnected. Char had wanted more than a one-night stand, and Jake—well he’d wanted a one-night stand and a thank you. She’d never told their mutual friend Kacey, and swore she’d take it to her grave. That was, unless she saw him again—and then all bets were off.

She had wondered what she would say to him if she ever saw him again. How would he react? Would he apologize for being an ass? Or would he even remember her? Now, he didn’t even seem to recognize her! Then again, her hair was longer now. But faces didn’t change.

If only they did.

She really should ask God about that one. Jake needed more than a new face. He needed an actual heart inside that muscled body.

Her eyes darted to the passengers a few rows behind him. A girl had a cup of water sitting on her table. “Hey, honey, can I borrow this?”

“Oh my gosh!” The girl looked about twelve, and began clapping her hands wildly. “Aren’t you that news lady?”

“Why, yes.” Char usually loved being recognized, but not now. Now she needed to be incognito. She tried to ignore the excited smile on the girls face, tried and failed. Accepting her fate, she engaged her. “You must watch the news a lot, huh?”

“No.” The girl sighed. “But my mommy and daddy laughed really hard when you fell out of your chair that one time. They said you were drinking alcohol and that’s why you fell.”

Fan-freaking-tastic. Had everyone seen that YouTube clip? It had been filmed the night after she’d hung out with Jake. Because she’d felt sorry for him, which was bad choice number one; followed by bad choice number two, which was bringing along a bottle of tequila and waking up in a hotel suite to nothing but a thank-you note and a killer hangover. She was lucky she’d even made it to work on time.

Then again, luck didn’t get you over two million hits on YouTube and a spot on the Today show with Kathy Lee and Hoda, who graciously declined their wine and offered Char tequila shots in honor of her night of horror.

“I wasn’t drinking,” Char explained. “I was… tired, and overworked and—” Holy crap, she was officially going to lose it in front of a twelve-year-old. “You know what? Never mind. How’s five bucks sound?”

“Five bucks?”

“Give me your water and I’ll give you five bucks.”

“Make it ten.”

Char glared.

The girl glared back. Fine. Ten bucks to make her feel better about Jake being an ass? Deal; she’d take that bet.

Char reached into her back pocket and pulled out a twenty. Shit.

The girl swiped it from her hand before Char could do anything. Grumbling, she grabbed the cup and made her way toward Jake’s seat.

Two more rows.

Finally. She stopped at Jake’s row and cleared her throat.

He didn’t look up.

She cleared her throat again.

Finally, he slowly raised his head. His mouth dropped open. “Char?”

“Jake,” she purred.

“How are you? I mean, it’s been forever!” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Actually it had been eleven months, one week, and five days. But hey, who was counting? Not her.

“Hasn’t it, though?” She leaned against the seat.

“We should catch up.” He eyed her up and down before coughing and looking away.

“We should.” She agreed, and then before she lost her nerve she dumped the entire cup of water down the front of his pants. “But I don’t date assholes who abandon me after sex.”

“What the—”

He made a move to stand up just as she buzzed the flight attendant and announced loudly, “Sorry, it seems Jake Titus just peed his pants. Could you please help us?”

Snickering erupted around them, and Char smirked at a gaping Jake. He reached across the seat toward a striking elderly woman sitting next to him.