“It is,” he says with a too-high voice. He sounds closer in pitch to me than to Kaden. I am starting to seriously regret my coming over here but now this guy’s eyes are lit up and he’s holding out his hand to shake. “I’m Jake McDonald, and you are?”
I reluctantly slide my hand into his, not able to stop myself from noting that his hands are on the tiny side. Which we all know what that means. What the hell did I see in this guy??
“Brittney,” I say, pulling my hand back as quickly as I can without appearing rude. Where is Kaden? I want to look around the rooftop restaurant and see if he’s noticing this little interlude that I’m having with this guy, and if he’s on his way over to stop it in its tracks. Isn’t he supposed to be jealous?
I send a big smile up at Jake. Where are you, Kaden??
“What are you drinking? I can send for another one.” He gestures down at my empty glass. I hadn’t realized I’d finished my drink, but I also don’t want to accept a drink from this guy that I have no intention of fucking, let alone kissing.
“I’m good,” I say, looking around for a place to put the glass down and finally awkwardly end up ditching it on a nearby table. “I don’t need to drink anymore tonight, thanks.”
If Kaden doesn’t show up by my side soon, I’m going to cry again.
No, actually I’m not. I straighten my back proudly. Goddammit, if Kaden doesn’t choose to go after me, then that’s fine. If he won’t fight for me, he isn’t worth wanting anyway.
“Where do you work, Jake?”
I’m going to carry on a small-talk conversation with this guy if it kills me. As I realize that his eyebrows could be more accurately described as a uni-brow, I can’t help but think that it just might kill me after all.
He leans in a little too close for comfort and says, “I’m a banker over on Wall Street.” He slides his hand up my arm and I draw back uncomfortably.
“Which sector?” I ask, trying to get him to focus on our conversation instead of my body. He follows me, pressing me against the railing with his body, his hand caressing higher and higher, closer and closer to my tits.
I abandon all pretense and shift my stance so I can knee him in the nuts and run like hell when—
“Brittney, there you are,” Kaden says in my ear, sliding his arm around my waist.
118
Kaden
It took me forever to find Brittney. First, I wandered around in the restaurant on the main floor and then made my way up to the rooftop. I was about to give up when I finally spotted Brittney talking to some pencil-necked jackass.
I mean, I don’t know him, but right now, he looks like he’s making Brittney extraordinarily uncomfortable, pinning her to the railing of the rooftop restaurant, and that makes him a jackass.
“Brittney, there you are,” I say, sliding my arm around her waist and looking down at the jackass in question. He stumbles back in surprise, finally giving Brittney some breathing room. “You can go away now,” I tell him.
“Excuse me?!” he yelps. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m the guy who can get you fired. Now leave.”
“Get me fired?! Are you smokin’ something? You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
I feel the curves of Brittney’s body pressing up against mine, and a part of me realizes that she’s not pulling away. In fact, she’s leaning further in. Victory! She really hadn’t been happy to have this guy all up in her face.
It’s time to make him pay for it.
With a sigh, I say, “You’re wearing a money-clip tie and a Brooks Brothers suit and yet you have all of the style and personality of a wet wash rag. At this point, I’m willing to bet next month’s income – a very substantial amount, mind you – on the fact that you work for a local financial institution. Carter Jeffries?”
I feel Brittney stiffen beside me in surprise, and I realize that I can cross “Met him at work” off the list. She obviously didn’t know this guy worked at the same place as her.
With a glare, the jackass nods and crosses his arms across his chest.
“So?” he asks sarcastically. “That doesn’t mean you could get me fired.”
“Last chance to save your job,” I say warningly. He just glares harder. I shrug, pull out my phone, and hit the number for William Kane, the CEO of Carter Jeffries. I put him on speaker phone.
“Hello?” he rumbles.