Or maybe, "I know you don't do relationships, but maybe you can do me again?"
Or perhaps, "Pay no attention to that angry man behind the collar. I'm worth it, really!"
Maybe I could have clarified everything with Jax if we hadn't been interrupted.
Damn it, Daddy!
For the five thousandth time, I wished my dad had found a job in the railroad industry that used to be the primary source of income for our town. Or a banker, or architect, or a janitor. Even my friend whose dad was a cop didn't have the problems I had. Anytime I tried to bring someone home he made sure to wear his clerical collar. Like a flea collar on dogs, Daddy's had the ability to kill relationships dead, as if the white collar he wore gave him the power to bring down the wrath of the Almighty on men interested in his daughters.
While his calling didn't make my life any easier, and I was often frustrated by him, I did love my dad. He was smart, funny, hardworking, and gave good advice. He adored my mother and the way he treated her set a high bar for anyone I'd ever want to marry. He didn’t fit the stereotype pastoral image. Rather than a pudgy, soft-spoken teetotaler, my dad at almost sixty was in better shape than many men half his age.
But because of him, I never did get my dance with Jax, and despite the warning from both Maggie and Paul, I'd wanted it.
Still, my conscience still pricked me. Deep down, or maybe not so deep, I knew it wasn't Daddy's fault. Part of me felt like punishing him for how hard he'd been on me lately. But in the end, he's not the one who bailed on me. God knew he'd stood by me when others wanted to shun me. And he had good reason to be suspicious of my companion, especially after my last choice of one.
My anger shifted back to Jax. What kind of guy kisses a girl he doesn't know? A player, that's who. And worse, what did that make me? I'd never let any date kiss me that intimately, that soon. And the comment he made about sucking my breasts? I should have been disgusted at his outrageously inappropriate words. Instead, it still caused a warmth between my legs just thinking about it.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. So just who is Jaxson? The charming man who listened sympathetically as you went on and on about your man mishaps? Or a coward who can't stand up to your dad? And why do you care about this so much? It's not like it's the first time it's happened.
My reflection rolled her eyes at me. That's easy. You were attracted to him. He answered a call that's been left ringing by so many other men. You can't get past the effect his touch had on you. You're disappointed because you thought you saw something in him that made him different, and you were wrong. Just like the last time Daddy tried to warn you. He was right the whole time. He's probably right this time, too. Now, get a shower. Pull on those big girl panties, and by those, I mean the sexy new ones.
I sighed. I’d wasted enough time on this topic. Jax was looking for something different than what I was willing to offer, and I deserved better than a blow-off. Blowing a raspberry sound with my lips as I accepted the truth, I forced myself to turn on the shower to warm up.
Within an hour, I was out the door wearing a pretty new scrap of lace for panties and a matching bra for confidence, ready to launch full-time into a project that had previously been sharing my focus with the wedding planning. I had been hired to head up a fund-raising gala to benefit a new teen center. I had a full day ahead of kissing up to local CEOs and other wealthy individuals to try to woo them out of hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars. Some of these I'd been able to handle with phone calls, but others required a more personal introduction and plea. Most made more money in a week than I could in a year, so the reality was they could afford to be generous. But these people had also grown to the positions they held by being scrupulous, so they had to be sold on the product and have their ego stroked about what a good thing they were doing.
And, as someone who could talk to almost anyone with little effort, that was something I could do.
Daddy always told me I could sell ice to an Eskimo. Even as a child, when my sisters and I went door to door soliciting Girl Scout cookies, it was me who did all the talking. I sold my quota as well as that of my sisters. But it was the people I enjoyed, not the sales.
When it came to deciding on a career, I'd felt lost. Nothing felt right. I wasn't the domestic genius my sister Faith was, or as pretty or talented as Laurel, nor as smart as Angela. It wasn't that I was dumb; I was a good student, but I grew bored easily. For a long time, I despaired I had no real talent that would translate into a job. I couldn't imagine doing the same thing every day. I majored in business only because I didn't know what else to do.
With no other prospects, I took a position at a bank where several of the employees must have locked their personalities in the vault along with the money. But life has a funny way of turning things up on their head. When one of my colleagues wanted to put together a birthday party for her one-year-old but didn't know where to start, I volunteered to help her. Being a social butterfly, I loved planning parties or themed dinners. It turned out to be such a success that another of the guests asked for my advice putting together an event to market a new product. I leapt to the challenge, and an idea was born.
Soon, I was filing for a license for Graceful Eventures, LLC where I used my business savvy and social skills as a private consultant specializing in organizing special occasions or educational events. It was always something different, so I never got bored. My reputation grew, and soon I was able to move out of the spare room in my apartment to a small space in a new office building. This was the first fundraising project I'd ever done, and while it was the most difficult event I'd tackled to date, I was excited to work on a cause that came to mean something important to me.
The morning rolled along as I'd hoped. I'd intentionally started with men and women with whom I worked in the past and knew would likely be willing to either contribute money or buy dinner tickets to the event itself, which is what I most needed to sell since each plate cost a thousand dollars. Then, I could move on to those I didn't know well but could 'name drop' those who'd already contributed. One thing I'd learned about the business elite—most didn't like to be left out or left behind.
After a working lunch in which I was able to convince all four partners of one of the most successful law firms in the area to purchase four place settings each, I began my trek back to my car. I had to park three blocks from the last office due to such limited parking in the downtown area. My feet screamed at me for both the fast pace I set as well as the spiked heels on which I made them balance. In my everyday life, I preferred my cushioned, flat slip-ons, but today I needed to come across as confident and professional, and a somewhat sexy look never hurt, either.
Just as I collapsed in my driver's seat, my cell rang. A quick glance showed a heart-shaped face framed by black hair, stunning green eyes, pierced nose, and a mischievous smile. It was Jade,
my other best friend and now part-time assistant for this project. Whereas Maggie was the sweet girl-next-door who was loyal almost to a fault, Jade was flashy and outspoken.
Jade and I had been assigned as roommates our freshman year in college, and when I'd first met her, I couldn't see how we'd get along. By appearances, we seemed to be polar opposites. I preferred comfortable jeans and soft sweaters or pretty shirts; she wore skintight jeans or leather pants and skimpy tank tops and boots. She went on tremendous spending sprees just for kicks, while I was frugal out of necessity. Out of habit, I constantly monitored what I said, but she was sarcastic and bawdy.
And I adored her.
Her carefree attitude carried over into how she treated me. She didn't care who my dad was and what he did for a living. She didn't make me feel different from anyone else, included me in anything she did, although I certainly turned down her invitations more than a few times.
Somehow, despite, or maybe because of, our differences, we hit it off. Like her name, she became a rock in my life, shiny but solid; the kind of friend who had your back but told you what she thought you needed to know, not what you wanted to hear. I wasn't always sure what I gave back to her, but I liked to think I helped to keep her grounded from some of her reckless ways.
She had an uncanny gift for numbers, and most people would be shocked to know several highly successful businesses across America sought her consultation for their finances. She was also the daughter of a power couple of a Fortune 500 company. She could never work a day in her life and still live in extreme comfort. You'd never know it since she chose to live simply—if you could call having a penthouse apartment simple. But considering the mansion she'd come from, it was.
"Hey, girl! Are you back from the tropics?"
She had traveled to Hawaii for a "working vacation" with her parents, who wouldn't take "no" for an answer when she tried to beg off from it. They claimed they hardly ever saw her since she'd moved away from their New York estate and this trip had been planned "forever." There were contacts there they insisted she meet, and this was the only time it could be arranged. I'd only met her parents a couple of times, and while they weren't outright affectionate, they were polite and welcoming in a stiff business-like way. They were used to getting what they wanted, and a wedding for someone that didn't come with connections for them wasn't deemed important enough to miss this trip.
"No, I'm still stuck here in this hell." Only Jade would think an island vacation would be hell, work or no work. "I still can't believe I had to miss Maggie's wedding."