Fallen Woman(8)
Chapter Three
I didn’t see Jase the rest of the weekend. I also didn’t talk to him because he didn’t have my phone number. I didn’t have a cell phone and never handed out my house number unless I was applying for a job. When Monday rolled around, I wasn’t anticipating he would make an appearance, although I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t wished he would. All weekend, my thoughts kept returning to him holding my sweet Emmy, the way he tucked her into my bed. His goodbye replayed over and over in my head. It wasn’t anything significant, but for the first time in my life, I had a friend. It didn’t matter if I wanted more; I’d settle for what he’d offer, and the kiss on my cheek before he left would last me quite some time.
Standing in the mailroom of the Faston Corporation, in the most comfortable flats I owned, I was shocked when hands landed on my waist, and his sultry voice whispered in my ear. “I need a favor.”
I turned in his hands, finding his beautiful face and noticed a scar above his right eye. I wondered how it got there. Without thinking, I reached up to touch it and grazed my thumb over the marred skin.
“College war wound,” he announced, returning my focus to his eyes. “So about that favor.”
I shook the cobwebs from my head and gave him a gentle smile. “Of course. What’s up?”
“There’s this charity banquet this Friday, and I need a partner to tag along.” I analyzed every word as he spoke them and was cognizant of the fact he did not say date. “I have to go and don’t want to do it alone. Please.”
“I don’t know, Jase. I don’t have anything to wear.” That wasn’t exactly true. I had tons of gowns, but every woman in attendance at any charity event would know just how dated they were, and I didn’t want to embarrass him.
“I knew you’d say that. So, how about we go at lunch and get you a dress.” He wiggled his eyebrows, thinking he was enticing me into some fantastic shopping soirée.
Totally deflated, my eyes cast to the ground. “I’m sorry. I don’t have the extra money for something like that. I wish I could help you.”
“My treat, and I won’t take no for an answer.” His voice was unusually upbeat. I wanted to accept, but pride stood in the way. He tilted my head up with his fingers under my chin. “It would mean a lot if you’d let me do this. It’s more of a help to me. I hate going to these things, and it’d be nice to have a friend to make the evening fun.” He dropped his hands and started to back away. He winked at me and said, “I’ll be back at noon,” then stuck his fingers in his ears to stifle my protest and left the mailroom. I shook my head in disbelief, wondering if he’d picked that trick up from Trace.
“Did Jase Lane just ask you out on a date?” one of the older ladies in the mailroom questioned me with wonderstruck eyes.
“No, it’s not like that at all. He doesn’t want to go to some charity thing alone.” I waved her off as though it meant nothing, because I had to convince myself it didn’t. He didn’t ask a girl he was interested in on a date; he asked his buddy to keep him company.
“Sweetheart, I’ve worked here for ten years, and not one time have I ever seen him in the mailroom, and to my knowledge, he always goes stag…by choice. Don’t fool yourself into thinking he just needs an escort.” She picked up the plastic mail bin and walked away.
Promptly at twelve, Jase strolled into my workspace. He told my boss I might be late returning and pulled me by the hand out the door.
“You can’t just tell my boss I might be late coming back from lunch, Jase. I can’t afford to lose this job.” I was miffed but not quite irritated.
“Sure I can. What’s he going to do?”
“Fire me.”
“He won’t fire you.” He scoffed as though I’d said something funny.
“Last time I checked, if I didn’t do my job, my boss most certainly could fire me.”
“Not when you’re with one of the managing partners of the company. He’d be a fool, and I’d fire him.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “Wait. What? But you’re not a Faston.”
He stood there, staring at me like I was the idiot. “No, but my mother was—is. Maiden name. Her maiden name was Faston. She married my dad and became a Lane. So yes, technically, I’m a Faston and don’t ever let my grandfather hear you say differently, or I won’t be able to prevent him from firing you.” He laughed a deep, guttural rumble.
“So you like…own the Faston Corporation?” I stuttered through my disbelief.
“Technically no, because it’s now a publicly traded company, but I own a lot of stock and hold a position on the board. Did you not know?” He seemed genuinely surprised.
“Obviously not.”
“Good.” He took my hand and pulled me toward the door.
“How is that good?”
“I know you don’t give a shit about my money and are my friend because you like me…not because I can offer you anything.”
“Is that what you thought?”
“Not really. I mean I bugged the shit out of you. You hardly threw yourself at me. But it’s something I’m aware of, yes. Honestly, I think it’s pretty cute you didn’t have a clue who I was. It’s endearing.” He gave me one of his lazy, sexy grins that seemed to make the world fall away.