Crush
he found himself unaccountably nervous as he stood outside her door. He had changed clothes three times, settling on a lightweight pair of flat-front pants and a mint green shirt (he was just vain enough to know it matched his eyes) and adding a perfectly tailored Italian silk jacket in an icy white color.
    “It’s just a date,” he told himself. But he had the feeling that so much more was riding on this evening and he wanted it to be perfect. “Okay, Jericho—pull it together.” He rang the doorbell.
    Jayla swung open the door and his jaw dropped. Jayla had pulled out all the stops this evening. She was in a glittery skintight silver dress that showed off every asset she possessed . . . and those were considerable. Her hair was partially pinned up so that her neck was exposed, but wavy strands escaped here and there to tease against her skin. She was in sky-high silver shoes and smelled like an entire field of flowers. “Hi, Jason,” she said with a sweet smile. “Do you want to come in for a minute?”
    “Baby, the way you are looking . . . if I come in, we’re not leaving tonight. Maybe for the rest of the week.”
    “Oh!” She turned around in a circle. “Jason like?”
    “A lot. A whole lot. Grab your purse, woman, we’re out of here.”
    Fifteen minutes later, he walked into the Gold Coast Martini Lounge with Jayla on his arm. He watched with pride as she looked around in admiration. “Okay, Jason, how many of these do you own?” She glanced at him over her shoulder.
    “My partner, Rick, and I own four of these,” Jason admitted.
    She nodded slowly. “Do I even want to ask what else you own?”
    “I’ll tell you if you’re dying to know, but I thought you might like this artist and want to enjoy the music tonight.” He led her over to a booth near the stage but still to the side enough so they were semisecluded.
    As they sat down, a waitress dressed all in black approached the table. “Hi, Mr. Jason,” the young woman said. “Mr. Rick did not tell us you were coming in. What can I get you and your pretty lady?”
    “The pretty lady will have the house martini and I’ll have sparkling water. Thanks, Natasha.”
    “Do you want me to tell Rick you’re here?”
    Jason shrugged. “He’ll be on the floor soon enough. No need to make a special announcement.”
    Jayla finished looking around. “This is lovely, Jason, you must be very proud of what you’ve built.”
    Looking at it through her eyes, he was. “Rick and I have done all right for ourselves.”
    “So this Rick . . . ?”
    “Enrique Santos. He’s been my closest friend since high school. He’s also my business partner. So far it works.”
    Natasha brought the drinks back and Jayla smiled at her. “That was fast.” She raised the glass and took a sip. Her eyes widened. “Jason!”
    Jason blinked innocently. “Yes?”
    “Are you trying to get me drunk? When a drink tastes this smooth, it’s got to be pure alcohol. What is in this?”
    “Godiva White Chocolate Liqueur, Kahlua, vanilla vodka, and cinnamon schnapps.”
    “And you’re drinking sparkling water?”
    “Designated driver. I’m trying to be a responsible citizen and all.”
    Jayla leaned toward Jason after taking another deep sip. “Are you really?”
    “Really what?”
    “Trying to be a responsible citizen this evening?” Her voice turned husky and she slid her hand along his thigh.
    “Maybe not.” He rested his hand on her leg and slid upward. Just then, the lights dimmed and a voice came over the speaker system.
    “The Gold Coast Martini Lounge is proud to present P.J. Morton and his band! Show him some love, Chicago!”
    Jayla’s mouth fell open. “What?! Did I tell you how much I love this guy?”
    “It’s your ringtone, it’s on repeat on your iPod, and you’ve been humming songs from his latest album for four days straight. I got the message.”
    Jayla took Jason’s jaw in her hand and turned his face toward hers. She placed a slow,

Similar Books

Mistakenly Mated

Sonnet O'Dell

Black Dog

Caitlin Kittredge

The Last of the Spirits

Chris Priestley

Infernal Affairs

Jes Battis

Thou Art With Me

Debbie Viguié

Seven Days in Rio

Francis Levy

Skeletal

Katherine Hayton