is lunch at the Four Seasons,” Terry corrected. “A date is an attractive man asking an attractive woman to spend Saturday night with him.” He leered. “Al-l-l night long.”
Callie trembled despite herself. What worried her was the fact that Terry’s interpretation of Jason’s wicked intentions didn’t frighten her nearly as much as it should have. Somewhere deep inside she was apparently hoping that he was right.
There had been a time in Callie’s life when she’d taken for granted an evening such as the one Jason had planned. Tonight, though, she felt as if she were back in college, about to go on a date—okay, Terry and Neil had convinced her that’s what it was—with the most exciting, mysterious man on campus.
She retrieved a simple teal silk slip dress from the back of her closet, dug out her sexiest lace panties and matching garter belt, a pair of her sheerest iridescent hose and a strappy pair of high heels.
She spent a full hour soaking in a fragrant bubble bath, then fiddled with her makeup for another hour. Yes, she was primping, but it had nothing to do with Jason’s wistful taunt. She had too much pride to go out tonight looking like a frump. The possibility of running into a former client, her ex-boss or her ex-husband and the bimbo dictated being dressed to the nines.
At seven-ten, Terry and Neil declared her efforts a success. At seven-fifteen, Jason looked as if he might faint dead away. All in all, she considered the reactions very rewarding. Bring on old Chad and her pedigreed replacement.
A half hour later she was wishing she’d said no to the entire evening. Nothing in her life had prepared her for an evening out with a man as eligible and recognizable as Jason. Before they’d even entered the theater, their picture had been snapped more times than hers and Eunice’s had been for the family album back in Iowa.
“Who’s the woman?” several photographers inquired as they snapped away.
They directed the question to Jason, as if she weren’t perfectly capable of responding herself. She found that almost as irritating as the rude, intrusive nature of their behavior. Her natural instinct for privacy was deeply offended, which was one very good reason why she couldn’t imagine taking a job on a daytime television show.
Within Our Reach might be failing, but it still had millions of fans and hundreds of promotional opportunities. She’d seen what had happened to Terry. Everyone wanted a piece of him for this event or that interview. Some might consider all that attention flattering. Just the thought of it made her shudder. She watched Jason closely to see how he intended to handle all of the probing questions about the new woman on his arm.
“You’ll have to wait to find that out,” he informed the photographers with the taunting skill of a true marketing genius. He slid his arm possessively around her waist, his hand resting an indecent inch or two below where it belonged. “I expect to have an announcement any day now.”
She glared at him, but he was oblivious. He was too busy answering another barrage of questions. She was smart enough to see that adjusting the placement of his hand would only draw attention to it. The next thing she knew her butt would be on the front page of some tabloid. She would get even, though. She really would.
“Can’t you at least tell us her name?” one man pleaded.
Jason smiled down at her. “Oh, I think I’ll keep that to myself a while longer, as well.”
“A wise decision,” she muttered under her breath.
Taking the very broad hint, he reluctantly broke away from the throng of photographers and ushered her into the theater.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured as he led the way down the aisle to their seats.
“Are you really?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I suspect you of making absolutely sure that those men were out there tonight. What did you do, call every tabloid in town?”
“Why would I do a thing like that?”
His innocence seemed genuine, which meant he was the one who ought to take up acting. “To give me a taste of the glamour that awaits me if I accept your offer,” she suggested. “Maybe to give the Within Our Reach promotion machine a jump start.”
She regarded him with a scathing look. “And to give you a chance to cop a feel when I couldn’t protest without causing a scene.”
“Interesting theories,” he agreed. “But would I have dared that, given your tendency to dress down for most occasions? As for your being disinclined to cause a scene, I haven’t noticed that your moods are exactly predictable.”
She considered his response. It was true. She’d given him very little reason to expect that she would gussy up in her fanciest clothes tonight. As perverse as she’d been from the moment they’d met, she might very well have worn yet another pair of jeans and perhaps her red high-top sneakers. Would he have risked having photographers on the scene for that? She doubted it, although Jason had been turning her preconceived notions about him upside down from the moment they’d met. He wasn’t nearly as stuffy and driven as she would have guessed him to be from the articles she’d read on the internet after he’d left the night before.
As for her accusation that he’d used the opportunity to cop a feel, they both knew he didn’t have to be in public to accomplish that. He was sneaky enough to try it whenever he was of a mind to. To her deep regret, she hadn’t exactly been resisting him.
“Okay, maybe I misjudged you about this,” she conceded. “But did you have to make it sound as if you were about to make some big announcement about the two of us?”
That innocent expression came back. “Is that what I did?”
“Any journalist worth his salt in that crowd of vultures will have my name and the details of our association before tomorrow’s editions,” she predicted.
“I guess we’d better think of something to announce, then,” he said, as if he’d unwittingly trapped himself and was resigned to his fate.
“Such as?”
“Our engagement?” he suggested a little too lightly for her to take him seriously.
“Very funny.”
“It would fulfill their expectations,” he pointed out.
Callie shook her head. “I don’t think so. I refuse to fake an engagement just to get you out of a PR nightmare you created yourself.”
“Hey, I’m past thirty. It’s time to settle down. The engagement wouldn’t have to be fake.”
She regarded him grimly. “Oh, yes, it would.”
He sighed, though she thought he didn’t look quite as brokenhearted as she might have wished.
“Then I’ll just have to sign you for a major role on Within Our Reach,” he said. He patted his pocket. “I have the contract right here.”
“I love a man who’s prepared for all eventualities. Is the engagement ring in the other pocket?” she inquired acidly.
He grinned. “Care to feel around for it?”
“You wish.” She scowled at him. “As for that contract, it’s ruining the lines of your jacket. I suggest you rip it to shreds and toss it in the nearest wastebasket during the first intermission.”
He shrugged and plucked it from his pocket. “I’ll do it now if it’ll make you happy,” he said, tearing it in half without missing a beat.
The gesture was a little too accommodating. Callie suspected the papers were perfectly blank, just meant to taunt her.
“Let me see those,” she said, reaching for them