to dinner with me?”
“No,” she answered as if it were the honest truth. Actually, it was. Dinner hadn’t entered into her thoughts even once.
“Come on.” He smiled at her, his wide mouth curving into a very handsome grin. His dark blue eyes sparkled. “Just dinner.”
“No, thank you.”
“Why not?”
“You’re not my type.” The bald-faced lie fell smoothly from her tongue.
“You sure?” He glanced toward his arm, and Jane felt her pulse leap.
Oh, my God. Had he looked at his tattoo when he said that? She felt her face heat despite her best efforts to suppress the betraying flow of blood. He’d seen her looking.
But those could have been looks of horror, she told herself. They’d meant nothing. Nothing.
Her pulse wouldn’t listen to her. It gathered speed. Chase smiled and put one hand on her desk to lean closer. His gaze fell to her mouth, and she could feel herself breathing too fast.
Last night as she’d boxed, she’d imagined her trainer was Chase. She’d imagined him grabbing her, his hands sliding across her damp skin, his mouth descending with a growl….
Oh, God, her masquerade was crumbling around her. What if she let Chase—
Her cell phone rang, breaking the man-spell she’d fallen under. Jane looked down to the phone, and the display was a bucket of cold water dumped over her head. “Mom” it read, the backlight glowing red in warning.
She stared at it for a moment, skin cooling as each second ticked by. “Yes,” she finally answered him, “I’m sure.”
“Sure about what?”
“I’m sure you’re not my type, Mr. Chase, but thank you very much for the invitation.”
Though his face fell, Chase didn’t look the least bit angry. In fact he pulled a business card from his back pocket and handed it over. “All right, then. Call me if you change your mind. That’s my cell.”
“Thank you.” She meant to drop it in the trash. She really did. But as Chase turned and walked out, Jane tucked his card into her purse. Then she turned off her cell phone and stuck that in her purse, too.
She was working, and the world of rough men and burned-out cars and bad mothers could go to hell.
“I’M SO GLAD YOU DECIDED to meet me,” Lori Love said. “God only knows how long I’ll be sitting here.” She pushed one of her brown curls behind her ear and set her elbows on the bar.
Jane smiled. Lori and Mr. Jennings were very seriously involved, and Jane seemed to have gained a friend in the deal. Still, they weren’t really the type of friends to hit the town together, mainly because Jane didn’t hit the town. She glanced around the dark hotel bar. “I don’t know why you agreed to meet Mr. Jennings here.”
“Oh, I’m smarter than you think. Quinn’s at a business dinner at The Painted Horse. I refused to go, but I’d already agreed to that damn city council party at eight. So we’re meeting in the middle. I get to avoid the boring dinner but still participate in free drinks afterward.”
“Congratulations.” Jane raised her empty martini glass in salute.
“Why aren’t you coming to the party?”
“I wasn’t invited.” Jane looked up in surprise when the bartender put another drink in front of her. Apparently he’d noticed her waving the glass around. “Oh, thank you.”
“Please come with us,” Lori said. “It’s downstairs in the ballroom. You can keep me company while Quinn talks shop.”
Jane considered it for a moment. A party. Drinks. Eligible, appropriate men. Professional and educated. The party would be the perfect place to meet the kind of man she needed to meet, but the thought of doing that tonight, of being professional and conservative and reserved… Jane glanced down at her drink and found it empty.
“Sorry, but you’re on your own,” she said. “No work for me tonight.”
“Damn,” Lori muttered. “Hey, did you read that book-club book yet?”
Jane had talked Lori into joining the monthly women’s group at the local bookstore. “I did. It was really thoughtful and deliberate.”
“Ugh. I thought it was depressing,” Lori said. “I didn’t make it past chapter six, when she went back to her suicidal husband. I dropped it and picked up one of my dirty books instead. The book-club meeting is right before my trip anyway. I’ll be busy.”
Jane felt a sharp stab of envy. Lori was building a life for herself, too, but it had nothing to do with trying to make herself respectable. Lori was stretching her wings, reading erotic novels and going back to college and traveling to Europe by herself. But Lori had been the good girl her whole life. She’d been responsible and respectable. Jane didn’t have that kind of past to fall back on, so she pretended to like depressing books that educated women recommended.
Another small act of fraud that added to Jane’s growing feeling of unease.
Lori nudged her. “I’ve still got that box of naughty stories with your name on it.”
Jane considered the offer for a moment. She’d turned Lori down flat a few weeks ago, but maybe dirty books would be a good outlet for her now. She’d found herself ogling her trainer during that boxing session the night before, and Tom was 100 percent gay. But gay or not, his shoulders reminded her of Chase’s.
“Maybe?” Lori said with a cheeky smile, but then her eyes shifted and the smile turned to a bright grin. “Hey, Quinn.”
Quinn Jennings slid up to the bar next to his girlfriend. “Hey, Lori Love,” he answered, his deep voice sinking to a purr.
Jane nearly blushed to hear it. Here was living proof that a good, intelligent man could throw off sparks with the right woman. Jane didn’t have to settle for safe and boring. She could find safe and spicy, just as Lori had. Then again, Quinn Jennings had never made Jane perk up and take notice. He wasn’t her type. Just as Greg hadn’t been her type and neither had the dentist she’d dated before him or the veterinarian before that.
“Hi, Jane,” Quinn said. “Are you coming with us?”
Lori took his hand. “Nope, she’s going to stay here and get sloppy drunk.”
The couple laughed at the idea, probably unable to imagine Jane being anything less than dignified. Little did they know.
Quinn muttered something about contributing to the cause, then tossed a ten-dollar bill onto the bar. “Another one for her,” he called.
“Oh, no, Mr. Jennings. I don’t—”
But he was already pulling Lori toward the door. “I’ll see you Monday, Jane. Stay out of trouble.”
The drink arrived, and what could she do but drink it? Fifteen minutes later she was cradling Chase’s card in her hands. He had a business card, so maybe he wasn’t just a ditchdigger. Maybe he was a supervisor of some sort. “W. Chase,” it said. His first name must be something horrific. Something like Worthington or Wessex.
Just Chase he’d kept saying, as if he were embarrassed to be called Mister. And he was right, of course. It didn’t suit him.
Jane glanced up, accidentally meeting the eyes of some guy two stools down. When he smiled and rose from his seat, she bit back a groan. She wasn’t in the mood. Not for him, anyway.
“Hi, there,” he said. “My name’s Dan.”
“Hi, Dan.” Jane didn’t offer her name. He was cute enough, and he was wearing a suit and tie, but he wasn’t her type. None of these guys was. She was hopeless.
“Do you live here