How to Fail at Flirting(51)
I considered replying that Joe had taken it surprisingly well since I hadn’t told him the whole truth. I decided against it. I had time to tell Joe more when I knew where things stood between Jake and me, and I didn’t want to tell Jake more about work. I could keep everything compartmentalized.
Naya: Will you meet me at the airport wearing a top hat?
Jake: You want me to meet you in my tux?
Naya: No, just the top hat.
I sat back in my chair and smiled, rereading the brief exchange. The interlude had momentarily lightened my mood. Still, an uneasiness simmered in me, and I realized this was another moment split between Davis and Jake, as if my feelings about them were two opposing forces: fear and love? I minimized the search engine on my laptop and pushed the thought aside, hoping the uneasiness was just paranoia.
Twenty-nine
I arrived in Raleigh in the late afternoon the day of the gala, and Jake met me at the airport wearing a plastic novelty top hat. He picked me up and kissed me in the middle of the baggage claim. Add some eighties pop song and I was in the last scene of my very own romantic movie.
His lakeside house was a spacious two-story surrounded by poplar trees in a quiet, upscale neighborhood. I knew Jake was successful, but seeing his place hammered home for me what he might have to lose if the Thurmond project went south. His bathroom, like the rest of the house, was clean and orderly. My man liked organization. My man. I rolled the phrase on my tongue, testing it out.
The light blue color of the floor-length dress popped against my tan skin and hugged my breasts, revealing what Felicia had said was a tasteful amount of cleavage. It also matched Jake’s eyes, which was what first attracted me in the store. I turned again, inspecting the back of the gown before turning to my bloodred lipstick the young woman at the makeup counter had sworn was fire with my skin tone. She was right—it was so much bolder than the neutral shades I normally wore, but I loved it. I’m going to stand out . . . and I’m excited about it.
I was greeted at the bottom of the stairs by Jake leaning against the kitchen counter, one ankle crossed over the other, checking something on his phone. The outline of his developed shoulder muscles filled out the white shirt in a way that warranted poetry.
“Am I fancy enough to be your date?” I twirled, the dress swishing around my strappy silver heels, as Jake turned. I wasn’t worried what he’d think, because I knew he wanted me there, not to show me off, but to be by his side. I grinned as I came out of the twirl, that realization fresh in my mind.
He moved toward me, his hands landing on my waist and his smile mischievous. “Very fancy. Maybe we should skip this thing.” He lowered his full lips to my jaw and dropped kisses down my neck as his hands slid over my backside.
“Hey, this dress was expensive. I can’t have you tearing it off me.”
“Give me more credit than that. I’d ease it off slowly,” he said, planting sweet little kisses by my ear before lightly sucking on the left lobe. “And I’d place it gently on a padded hanger before even thinking of pleasuring you. You’d beg, tell me you want me, but I’d say, ‘No, Naya, you know this dress is my first priority, and I’ll be back in twenty minutes after I run it to the dry cleaner.’”
I giggled and pushed against his chest. “That’s all I ask.”
Jake brought my hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over my knuckles. “You look beautiful.”
I took his arm and let him escort me out to his sleek black BMW in the garage.
“I’m so glad Gladys, the librarian, had to cancel on me,” he commented as we pulled on seat belts.
“You two had a falling out?”
“No, she found a much younger man. Can you believe it?”
“Don’t hate the player.” I enjoyed how he settled his palm on my thigh and rubbed circles as he laughed along with me. “Her loss, my gain, though.”
* * *
We pulled up to a stately mansion as elegant as any place I’d ever been. The redbrick pathway led to stairs nestled between huge white columns, up-lit from behind pristine rosebushes. All around us, women in flowing gowns and men in tuxedos moved into the opulent structure or milled about in the gardens visible from the front of the house.
My jaw must have dropped as Jake took my arm and helped me out of the car, handing the keys to the young valet.
“I’m a little out of my depth,” I whispered as we made our way toward the front entrance. That was an understatement. This place could have been a plantation house, and I was surrounded by a lot of very wealthy people.
Try something new. Check.
He pulled me closer. “It’s easy. Laugh at their jokes, especially if they look rich and ready to donate, take liberal advantage of the open bar, and no matter how amazing the time-share looks at the silent auction, don’t bid on it.”
“Do you speak from experience?”
“Branson wasn’t really my thing.” He nodded to another young man holding the door for us as we entered an immaculate ballroom draped with lush fabrics and filled with sprays of flowers. “And stick close to me. That doesn’t have anything to do with navigating the gala; I just like having you close.” He dipped his head toward mine, brushing his lips against my ear, his hand resting on my lower back. “I’m glad you’re here.”