The Wager

Chapter Forty-one

“Damn it, Amy!” Jake yelled. “What the hell is wrong with you? I said I wasn’t interested.”

“You looked interested.” Her eyebrow arched as she tried to get close to him again.

Jake lifted his hands to stop her. “Seriously, not interested. Not now, not ever.”

“Guys like you…”

“Guys like me, what?” Jake sneered. “Finish what you were going to say.”

She licked her lips and crossed her arms. “They don’t say no.”

Jake nodded. “You’re right.”

Amy’s smile was vicious as she approached.

“I must not be that guy anymore.” He stormed out of the room in search of Char.

An hour later, he still hadn’t located her to apologize. The only damn reason he’d been in that room in the first place was because Amy had had so much to drink that he didn’t want her to ruin the party by going crazy—he’d seen her pop a few pills before her last glass of wine.

Muffling another curse, Jake made his way upstairs to get some of the oil off and to change into clothes that didn’t make him look like a poorly paid prostitute. Funny, how just a few months ago he would have been totally okay with looking like this. Now he just felt dirty, used, gross.

He’d grabbed a wet cloth and started wiping off the oil when a phone started ringing. He looked over at the nightstand. It was Char’s phone, and the screen told him the call was from her job.

She’d been ignoring her phone the whole weekend so he figured he’d just ignore it, too.

But ten minutes later, after two more missed calls, he lost his patience.

“Hello?” he snapped the minute it rang for the third time.

“Who the hell is this?” a man yelled.

“Jake Titus. Why? Who’s this?”

“Mike Cromwell. I’m your little girlfriend’s boss.”

Jake didn’t have the strength to say that they were anything but dating, and that Char was probably planning on killing him in his sleep tonight. “What can I do for you, Mike?”

“You can tell Char that she has exactly six hours to get a story to me or she’s fired.”

“A story?” Jake repeated. “Any story?”

“No, you idiot.” Mike cursed into the phone. “The wedding. She’s supposed to be covering the wedding.”

“But—”

The phone went dead.

Stunned, Jake sat on the bed, still holding the phone in his hand. So it was all about a story? She was being nice to him to get to him?

Like every other girl in the world.

Char wanted something from him, but now he wondered if the something she wanted wasn’t what he was willing to give. His body? Something snapped inside. Maybe she’d pushed him past his breaking point, but he was pissed. No, he was more than pissed. How could she do this to him? After everything he’d said to her? All they’d shared? To her, all he was worth was a flashy smile and a story. But to him? She was the world.

All the nameless faces of past conquests flashed through his mind. All the women, all the sex, all the partying… Every last female had wanted something from him, whether it was his money, his status, his bed. And Char? She’d turned out to be the worst of them all, because she’d pretended to be his friend. She’d maneuvered herself into his life so fully that the idea of purging her out was so repulsive he felt like he was going be sick. So this was what betrayal felt like? Like knives stabbing into your front and your back, an absolute loss of control over your own emotions? Right. Well, he hated it. He hated that Char had been the one to make him feel that way. He’d never expected more out of those other women because he’d known what those relationships were. They’d wanted something from him and he’d wanted something from them. All parties left satisfied. But now? He was left feeling empty, as if he’d just offered Char all of his possessions in hopes that she’d at least give him a damn hug and say “thank you” rather than run him over with the moving truck and drive off.

He hated putting her with those other women. He hated allowing her name to even be next to their names. But…

She’d ended up being just like them.

A wave of nausea overtook him as he set the phone down. With shaking hands, he ran his fingers through his hair. Char had just wanted a piece of the Jake Titus joke.

Which meant only one thing: He was getting ready to jump off the commitment cliff without a parachute.

Well, if she wanted a story, she was going to get one. No way was he going to let her blame him for losing her job.

An hour later, Char walked back into the room. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was wind-blown.

“Where’ve you been?” Jake asked. Char rolled her eyes and tried to walk back out, but Jake caught her arm and dragged her back inside. “I was worried.”

“Oh, spare me. You looked really worried in Amy’s arms.”

Jake muttered an oath and walked away from her. “I didn’t want her then and I don’t want her now, but then again, you trusting my word means you actually have to trust me as a person. It means I have to trust you, too. And I don’t.”

Char threw down her purse and charged toward him. “How dare you! I’ve done nothing to—”

He held up her cell phone. “Mike called.”

“You’re such an ass!” Char jerked the phone away from him. “You answered my phone? That’s private.”

“You’re lucky I’m a good guy.”

She snorted.

“So ask me.”

“What?” Char scrolled through her messages. “What the hell do you want me to ask you?”

“About the wedding. You know, details, who the caterers are, what celebrities are going to be stopping by… you know, the nitty gritty details. Interview me.”

Char’s face fell as she stared into his cold, unresponsive eyes. “Jake, I was never going to go through with the interview.”

“I don’t care.” He did care but he didn’t want her to know he did, because it just made him look pathetic. “Ask me the questions.” He threw a piece of paper and a pen onto the bed. “Come on. Do you want to get fired?”

“No, but—”

“I’m pissed as hell right now,” Jake said honestly. “But I’m not going to be the reason you lose your job.”

“Well, aren’t you just a regular Mother Theresa.” Char snorted. “Don’t you know me better than this, Jake? Do you really think I’d betray my friends to get ahead in the world? I’m not you!”

“You’re being a bitch.”

“You’re an ass if you think so little of me,” she yelled.

“Yeah, well, you’re a shitty friend.” Jake’s nostrils flared as his voice rose. “I thought you were different. That’s why I—”

“Jake?” Travis’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door. “The party’s breaking up, man. Have you paid that crazy lady with the sex toys yet?”

“So many things wrong with that sentence.” Jake rolled his eyes. “Coming.” He walked toward the door. “You.” He pointed at Char. “Not a word to Travis and Kacey. Don’t even tell them you were thinking about taking your boss up on the offer. It will break their hearts, and they have enough going on. I’ll give you a damn story. I’ll run down the street naked if I have to; just leave them alone.”

Disgusted, Jake walked out the door, all the while wondering if his heart would ever be able to trust anyone.