The Wager

Chapter Thirteen

Jake paced in front of the door. Char had texted and said she’d stop by around noon. It was officially five minutes past. Where was she? He needed to find a way to get back his job and his manhood, preferably in reverse order.

The morning had started off normally enough, with Grandma doing her damn yoga and then demanding he drop her off at her Bridge group. But even when Grandma asked for one thing, it was never just one thing. No, she’d demand you do something else, fail to give an explanation, and then look at you like you were an idiot if you asked why.

He felt like a kid again, like he had the time Grandma caught him stealing M&Ms from the convenience store and then bought him a five-pound bag and demanded he sit and eat the entire bag in front of her.

Her reasoning was that it would keep him from stealing again. Because if she ever caught him with sticky fingers, he’d either have to consume said object or wear it around the house.

In high school it had happened again with beer. She’d given him a six pack and told him to chug until he got sick. It took him three before he was puking. Naturally, Grandma had finished the rest of the pack.

Suffice it to say, it was always wiser to agree with the woman than to tempt fate. So he drove her around town, played the nice grandson, and then prayed to God she would finally hire him back so he could stop playing chauffeur and wedding planner.

Good God, he was going to turn into a woman waiting for that damn irritating girl.

The doorbell rang.

He ran to it. Then stopped and took a few deep breaths. Yup, definitely turning into a woman. He was acting like this was a first date or something! It was Char! Char! He had to repeat her name several times out loud before he was able to finally pull the door open.

Her smile lit up his dark mood and suddenly he remembered all over again why he stayed away from girls like her.

They were trouble.

They promised you pleasure and in the end wanted commitment, something any guy would run from—especially a guy like him. He didn’t deserve anything like it—he wasn’t that much of an ass to not know that a girl like Char, well, she deserved one of the good ones.

Not him. Definitely, not him.

Her eyes lit up when he smiled.

Shit. He was going to have to stop flirting with her. She was going to get the wrong idea, and he was going to lose his mind if he had to partner up with her for the entire wedding week, wondering if she was just waiting for the right time to pull a knife on him.

“Come in.” He opened the door wider and fought hard not to stare at her backside as she walked past him and her heels clicked against the marble floors. Clearly she’d been at work. She was wearing a tight pencil skirt, white blouse, and red heels.

Poor choice.

Because now he was thinking about Grandma and her stupid airport story and…

“Jake?” Char’s soft voice brought him back to the present. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No.” He laughed awkwardly. “I was, um, just admiring your shoes.”

“My shoes?” Her eyebrows arched in amusement. “You have a thing for heels?”

“On you?” He nodded. “I think I just might.”

Shit, there he went again. What was wrong with him? It was like second nature with Char, as if he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. His body involuntarily moved toward her. Was it her eyes? Her hair? A little voice, one he hadn’t listened to in a long time, told him no. It wasn’t physical; it was something completely different, something foreign. Something he really didn’t want to think about or dwell on too much, because then he’d have to admit to actually having a heart, which only meant one thing… Eventually it would break, only this time he wouldn’t have anything to fall back on, just air and nothingness.

He swallowed and looked away. “So, lunch?”

She took his arm and looked around the house. “Sounds good.” Her eyes narrowed.

“What?” He stopped in his tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“A girl forgets.” She chuckled slightly.

“Forgets?”

“How totally and ridiculously rich you are.”

Jake snorted. “Jobless at the moment, but thanks.”

“Oh please.” Char pulled her arm away and walked ahead of him as she stepped into the giant kitchen. “All of this? This is what people dream of living in their entire lives. I mean, I would kill for your kitchen. You have two ovens! My one oven barely works.”

Amused, Jake leaned against the counter. “You like to cook?”

“I love it.” She sighed. “I don’t have as much time as I used to, and my kitchen kind of sucks, just like you…” She smiled sweetly. “If I had a place like this I wouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself like you are.”

“Gee, thanks.” He mumbled, feeling scolded. “And I’m not feeling sorry for myself.”

“Yeah, you kind of are.” Char drummed her fingers against the granite counter top. “So, where’s lunch?”

“In the fridge.”

Char walked over and opened the fridge. “You have more food than most small countries.”

“Grandma likes her food.” Jake shrugged. “I’ll grab the croissant sandwiches and veggies. You want to eat outside on the porch so we can sit by the water?”

“Um, sure.” Char looked around the kitchen. “Anything else we need?”

“Grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, too… maybe a white wine? Your choice.” He winked and walked toward the sliding glass door that led to the veranda that overlooked Lake Washington.

Now, all they needed to do was eat, play nice, and get done with Grandma’s damn list and he could be free to move on with life. His plan was still the same. Survive WW3, also known as the invasion of Grandma, and then go back to his lifestyle.

Though, as he took a minute to sit and enjoy the view, he realized it had felt like years since he’d actually relaxed or been sober enough to enjoy it.

Char’s footsteps echoed across the deck. “Here you go.” She handed him a glass of wine and set the bottle on the table. “It’s pretty out here.”

“I guess it is.” He squinted against the sun and shrugged, forgoing the glass of wine and taking a sip of water instead. “Guess I don’t really notice it much.”

Char snorted and shook her head. “So, this list. Let’s get it over with.”

Abrupt subject change, but fine. Jake pulled out a new piece of paper. “Okay, we have to be careful with this one. The last one was lost in a tragic paper shredder accident. I had to steal Grandma’s backup while she was sleeping last night.”

“Wow, you’re a regular 007.”

“The woman sleeps like the dead.”

“So it was easy?”

“She has a gun under her pillow and has never taken a shooting lesson in her life—easy?” Jake shuddered. “Not if you want to keep all your parts.”

“Fair enough.”

Jake cleared his throat. “It looks like we just have to worry about the cake topper and Kacey and Travis’s wedding gift. Grandma says it will be delivered later this afternoon so I guess we’ll just take it on the plane with us?”

“Sure.”

They fell into an awkward silence. Jake wasn’t really sure why things felt so stilted. Like all the fight had been taken out of Char and suddenly she was just ready to do anyone’s bidding and be done.

But that was exactly what he was doing.

Except, he wanted her to want to be with him. He liked her fiery. Shit, he was happier when they were fighting than when she was quiet.

“Rough day?” he asked after a few more awkward moments of silence.

Char shrugged.

“Whoa, I got the shrug.” He poured her another glass of wine. “You want to talk about it?”

Sighing, Char tilted her head and faced him. “Not really.”

“No pressure.” He lifted his hands. “But maybe I can help.”

“Ah, the millionaire’s offering his help. How thoughtful.”

Jake winced. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” Char repeated. Then in a flurry she stood, nearly knocking over her wine, and threw her napkin on the chair. “My problem is everything is so damn easy for you! It always has been! You have this perfect life, perfect grandmother—and don’t you dare say a word against her. She may be crazy but at least you have a family that cares, not parents who forgot, again, about your birthday.”

Jake froze, a sickening feeling began to stir in his stomach as he watched the sadness wash across Char’s face. He knew that look—he knew it well: loneliness. Feeling like the forgotten one in the family was almost as bad as being the black sheep, the one nobody wanted. So, yeah it was possible their situations were different, but not by much. She was forgotten and he was a joke.

“It’s fine.” Char laughed bitterly. “We barely talk to one another anymore; there’s no way you would have known it was my birthday. I just—I don’t know. Beth had to leave for a work trip this morning and I know she was stressed, too. Maybe I sound like a complete child, but just for once… I wanted someone—other than Kacey—to remember.”

“I’m an ass,” Jake whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“No.” Char pointed at him. “See, that’s not what I want. Pity isn’t the same thing. It sucks. I get pity all the time. ‘Oh look, that’s the poor news reporter that was drunk during the five o’clock news and fell out of her chair!’ ‘Oh look, there’s Char; she’s funny but don’t take her seriously.’ ‘Oh, how sad, Char’s family doesn’t even celebrate Christmas together because they leave her for vacation.’ Or how about this one: I can’t even visit my parents today and give them a piece of my mind because they’re spending the weekend on Alkai Beach.”

Jake licked his lips and watched as Char’s dark hair blew in the wind. Her blouse tightened across her chest as it rose and fell with her exertions. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “Maybe lunch wasn’t such a good idea. I’m just not in the mood to be social, and then I come here and everything is so easy for you, and you have the audacity to feel sad because your grandma’s living with you and forcing you to eat donuts and drink wine. Hell, I’d kill for that.”

Never in his life had Jake ever felt so low. He’d just yelled at Grandma that morning for fixing him eggs. In fact, he’d told her to eat her own damn eggs and leave him the hell alone. Then he’d taken it a step further and actually asked for his job back. And here Char was, alone on her birthday, and apologizing for being bad company. What the hell was wrong with him? He deserved her reprimand and more, though to be honest, nobody had ever reprimanded him other than Grandma.

And that’s when he saw it.

The pull, the reason he was so unable to leave well enough alone—her strength. He craved what he saw in her so much—his subconscious, moral compass, everything about him was so screwed up that he craved her the same way an alcoholic craves whiskey.

Regardless of his feelings, he needed to tread carefully. The last thing he wanted was to get involved with anyone when he knew his own life was on such shaky ground. But he could—no, he would—make it better. He was being given a second chance, to be the hero, to be the good guy, and he was going to take it.

He stood very slowly and walked around the table to where Char was standing. With fluid movements he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a hug. “Do you know where your parents are staying?”

She cursed into his chest. “I could always text them; that is, if they even answer their phones. Why?”

Jake laughed, though on the inside he was cursing a blue streak for her parents’ selfishness. “Well, I have a plan. We’re going to visit them, right now. Call work.” His heart beat a little faster in his chest, almost like a rush of adrenaline as a plan began to form in his head. Maybe it was pride, not selfish pride, but him actually being proud of a decision he was making on someone else’s behalf.

“But Jake.” Char pulled away. “What are we going to do? Go to their little bed and breakfast and demand they wish me a happy birthday?”

Jake laughed. “You’ll see.”

“Jake, seriously, I’m not in the mood for games and I don’t even know where they are.”

“We may not know, but I think I know a woman who used to work for the CIA.”

“Huh?”

“Let me give my people a call.”

“Your ‘people’?” Char repeated. “I think being jobless has already addled that sexy brain of yours.” With a gasp she covered her mouth. “It was the wine! Crap!”

“You think I’m sexy?” He baited her with a wink; old habits die hard. And he hadn’t participated in said habits for over a week now. The fact that she said he was sexy both terrified and excited him. Blood pumped to all the wrong places. Easy, his brain told him, it would be so easy just to bag her and then you could forget about caring. Forget about trying. The truth? He was scared shitless that the minute he took a chance on someone actually worth taking a chance on, they’d laugh in his face. He wasn’t good enough for Kacey; why the hell would he be good enough for Char?

“No.” She turned away and shook her head as if trying to understand where saying “sexy” had come from.

“It’s okay.” Jake came up behind her. “Lots of women do.”

“I needed to hear you say that.”

“Why?” He tensed as she turned around and ran her fingers up and down his chest.

“It helps me remember what a selfish ass you are.”

“You may change your tune after this afternoon.”

“I have my doubts.”

Jake leaned in until their lips were a breath apart. “I live to prove you wrong.”

Char sighed. “Fine, make the call. I’m worthless at work anyways.”

Grinning, Jake pulled out his phone and dialed Grandma’s number. She answered on the second ring. “This better be good, Jake. I’m winning.”

“I need you to find someone.”

Grandma was silent.

Jake groaned. “It’s for Char.”

“Text me specifics.” Grandma said in a low voice, “I’ll see what I can do.”

The phone clicked off and Jake shoved it into his back pocket. Char was glaring at him through long lashes. “That’s your people?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and grabbed the food with his other hand. “Now, run home, change into something sexy, grab an overnight bag and meet me back here in an hour. We have some celebrating to do.”

Char’s shoulders slumped beneath Jake’s arm. “You don’t have to do this. Seriously, I’m fine now. See? All better.” She pointed at her face and managed a pathetic smile.

He didn’t have the heart to make her feel worse by telling her how sad she looked, so he went another route. The one that made him look like an ass. At least he knew how to default into that guy. The type of male who knew exactly what to say to push a woman’s buttons. Only this time, it was to save her from herself, not to selfishly convince her to be with him. Odd, how past weaknesses could turn into strengths. He gave her a crooked grin and eyed her up and down, then reached for her face and tilted it as if examining it for age lines. “Fine. Have it your way, but if I was turning another year older—you know, approaching thirty as fast as you were—I’d want to be with someone who knew how to have a good time. Besides, I’ll buy you dinner.”

Her eyes narrowed, “But you’re jobless.”

“And as you pointed out… still a millionaire.” Jake set the wine bottle down on the table and grabbed Char’s hand and kissed it. “Let me make up for it. Please.” The last time he’d said please and meant it had been a year ago when he’d begged Kacey to go with him to see his parents. Great; so basically the last time he’d said please and actually meant it for non-selfish reasons he’d been eight and wanted a popsicle for his invisible friend.

Her eyes darted back and forth between the door and the floor. “Fine, but just… don’t be too nice. I may mistake it for pity and get mad at you all over again.”

“Deal.” He nodded toward the door. “Now drive your sexy ass home and put on something…” He stepped back and looked her up and down. “hot. Put on something hot.”

“This isn’t hot?” She twirled in front of him, her good humor seeming to return. He chuckled as she twirled like a little kid. Damn, she really was beautiful. He cleared his throat and looked away.

“You’d look beautiful in anything, but you need to be wearing a birthday outfit.”

Char’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

Jake nodded as he watched the sway of her hips as she walked off. Once she reached the door, Char turned. “Jake…”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, I still don’t like you.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I don’t like you either.”

The door clicked shut and Jake had to take a seat to gather his thoughts. The problem was, they were all over the place. He was growing a bit too attached to Char’s smiles.

And it killed him inside to know that she felt that alone. What kind of person did that make him? That he would sit there and complain about his lot in life when she barely had an oven that worked and a family that could care less that it was her birthday?

If anything, his family cared too much.

And he’d never appreciated it until this moment.

With a shaky hand, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Travis’s number.

“Hello?” Travis answered gruffly.

“I’ll do it.”

“Huh?” Travis coughed. “Did you mean to call me?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Stop being difficult. I said I’ll do it, and I’ll stand by that.”

The phone went silent.

“You still there?” Jake asked.

“Yeah.” Travis laughed. “I was just checking the time to see if it was happy hour or something. You drunk?”

“I’m not drunk!” Jake yelled, getting more irritated by the minute. “I just wanted you to know I thought about it and I want to do it. I want to walk Kacey down the aisle with Dad.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to crack at the end. Hell, how many times would his past haunt him? He envisioned Bill’s smile, the way he’d looked at Kacey, and his gut clenched again. It was the least he could do for family—for hers and for his.

“Thank you.” Travis’s voice was hoarse. “It’s… it will just mean a lot.”

Needing to lighten the subject, Jake laughed. “Yeah, well, consider my good deed done for the year.”

“Done.” Travis sighed. “Everything else good?”

“Yeah.” Jake looked around the empty house and for the first time in his life felt guilty about what he had. Guilty that he had taken it for granted. “It will be.”

“You okay?”

“Great.” Jake cleared his throat. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”