Jaded by Rhonda Sheree Page A

throat. “I admit I don’t enjoy every class. I have my favorites—”
    “Which one?”
    “Uh, well,” she stammered, “I don’t know. I like a few of them. Look, let’s put it like this: I’m not crazy about school but once I’m an attorney I’m going to be passionate about representing my clients.”
    He grinned that boyish smile again. “What kind of law will you be practicing?”
    “Corporate. Probably.”
    “Mm-hmm. And have you discussed that aspiration with Professor Asher, by chance?”
    He took a sip from his cup but kept his playful eyes squarely on her. If he felt the slightest bit threatened by her schoolgirl crush on the professor, he didn’t show it.
    “What is he, my guidance counselor? Of course I haven’t spoken to him about my plans. What’s it to you if I had?”
    “He’s a jerk, y’know.”
    Stay cool.
    “Why do you say that?” Syeesha slid her laptop into her backpack and avoided his eyes.
    “I’ve heard the talk, and I hear he’s a jerk. He thinks he’s younger and cooler than he is. He looks all right, I guess, if you’re into that kind of look.”
    “What kind of look?”
    “You know. John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever . Asher looks like the black version of him.”
    “He doesn’t look like a pimp,” she said.
    Christian chuckled. “Wasn’t thinking a pimp, but won’t disagree.”
    He licked foam off his top lip.
    Sweet Jesus.
    “ So what kind of fiction? Romance?”
    “Why would you guess that?”
    Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. For some reason she wanted to reach out and touch the thick brow that had the scar slicing through it.
    “Just a hunch.”
    “It’s kinda private,” she said. Today was not the day she was going to witness him gloat. “Y’know, I don’t even know your last name.”
    “Chambers.”
    “Christian Chambers. It’s time I put you on the spot. What was all that talk in the subway about being infatuated with someone who doesn’t know you’re alive?”
    Just then Syeesha’s cell phone buzzed. “Yeah?” she answered.
    Christian slid a napkin from beneath his cup and borrowed her pen.
    “Got a minute?” asked Ray Templeton.
    “Yeah, Ray. What’s up?”
    Christian scribbled on the napkin.
    She held up a hand, but Christian was already smoothly gathering his things. He gave her a casual farewell salute as he slid away from the table. Syeesha tried to focus on both what Christian had written on the napkin and Ray’s voice congratulating her on the other end of the phone.
    “The client wants to interview you,” she finally understood him to say as her brain simultaneously processed the note Christian had left.
     
    Passion can be covered over coffee. Infatuation needs an entire dinner.
     
    In neat cursive, he’d left his number on the napkin.
    “There was supposed to be a first round of interviews with an intermediary but the client is anxious. Good luck, kiddo.”
    Kiddo? Who is he calling a kiddo?
    The way Christian’s note had made her heart thump and her fingertips quiver confirmed that she was very much a full-grown woman.
     
    ***

 
    Chapter 12
     
    Seven interviews and none of them were perfect. Close, but not perfect.
    One candidate, for example, had been far too seasoned to be a personal assistant. She had been attractive and smart, but also cold and militant. Undoubtedly, she would be efficient at her job. But Jade had known what her real job would entail, and a sexually repressed workaholic simply would not do.
    Another woman had been crossed off the list before she had even sat down. A model turned executive assistant. British. Probably waiting to be discovered, though she wouldn’t cop to it during the abbreviated interview no matter how much Jade had baited her. There was a certain irony in the fact that Jade was looking for a woman who could seduce her husband, yet she had bristled at the unblemished, statuesque mannequin sitting across from her, oozing sex with every English-accented word uttered