Overnight Sensation(5)

Oh my. That thumping sound is my heart taking off like a jackrabbit running a fifty-yard dash. I thought I had some more time to get used to the idea before we actually made our move.

“Are you gonna stay in Brooklyn and finish your internship, even if it causes family strife?”

“Oh,” I say slowly, because, whoops! I’m the one who’s gotten ahead. “I’ll stick with the internship. Heck, yes. I have no marketable skills.” My internship doesn’t pay very much. But I can live in Daddy’s Manhattan condo and ride the subway to work.

Soon I’ll turn twenty-one and inherit some money. Although my father could make my life very difficult if he chooses to. I heard that thinly veiled threat too many times this week already.

“Good for you,” Jason says.

“It’s an easy decision,” I agree. “I need to start living differently, or I’m in danger of spending the rest of my life trying to please other people.”

“That’s no good,” he agrees. We’re still standing way too close together, and we’re still flirting. But I can tell he’s actually listening.

“I was deeply unhappy at school last year. And my parents didn’t care. You know what’s funny?” I can hear myself talking too much, but his attentiveness encourages me. “When I was a teenager I actually took classes on how to please people. It’s called charm school.”

His deep laugh vibrates through my belly. “To learn to be charming? I can already tell you got an A-plus.”

“That’s natural ability,” I tease. “But they taught us etiquette—which fork to use first and how to set a table for six courses. How to daintily remove an olive pit from your mouth. How to introduce two people when there’s an imbalance of power.”

“How do you do that?” he asks, leaning in just a few millimeters closer.

“You’re supposed to address the person of higher rank first. ‘Mr. Important Person, I would like to introduce Mr. Lesser-person.’ And then you offer any further details that are appropriate to the situation.” I can smell his aftershave. It’s clean and spicy. I have the strangest urge to lean in and kiss his angular jaw.

“Who knew?” He moves imperceptibly closer. “And now I’m wondering how many times I’ve been put in my place like that without realizing it.”

“Oh, please,” I tease him. “Try being the office intern for a day. I might as well wear a nametag that says, Hello My Name Is Lesser Person.”

“What else did they teach you at charm school?”

“How to foxtrot. The proper way to phrase a wedding invitation. Penmanship. How to dance with a boy you don’t like in order to save his feelings. In other words, how to be a good girl even when you don’t want to be.” The more I think about it, the more it sounds like brainwashing.

“Hmm,” Jason whispers. We’re so close together now that the word vibrates against my cheek. And then he leans in and lets his lips coast past my temple. It’s so faint that it can’t even be called a kiss. But it makes me shiver just the same.

No wonder this man gets any woman he wants. I’m practically quivering for him, and he hasn’t even kissed me.

Then his voice drops low, and he asks, “Would you rather be a bad girl, Heidi?”

Holy heck in a handbag! It’s the cheesiest line ever, but my girl parts shimmy all the same.

And then he puts his mouth right beside my ear. “Are you—” He drops his voice to barely a whisper. “—thinking of wearing white after Labor Day?”

I wasn’t expecting a joke, which makes it twice as funny. All the tension in my fluttering chest just sort of erupts. I let out an actual snort, which I haven’t done since fourth grade. We don’t snort in charm school.

But it’s been a long day, so I can’t stop. I laugh so hard that tears form in both eyes.

“Well? Are you?” he asks, laying a hand at the curve of my hip.

His touch sobers me, and I lean into it. “Probably not.” I wipe my eyes. “And it’s a crying shame, because I just bought a nice little pair of white jeans on sale and Labor Day has passed.”

Jason tips his head back and smiles. “You’re right. You do need more tequila.” He’s already pouring me another shot. “Here’s to breaking some rules.”

I feel a shiver of excitement as I raise my glass, and we toast. His dark eyes watch me while I tip the little glass back and drink. So this is how the other half lives. My ex-boyfriend—Eric—wouldn’t even recognize me. Although he never once looked at me the way Jason is right now.

But, ouch. Tequila is strong. With watering eyes, I casually take another wedge of lime from the dish and bite it as daintily as a girl can.

Take that, Daddy. The fact that he’d hate me drinking makes it all the more fun.

Castro pounds his shot in one easy gulp and sets his shot glass down on the table. He doesn’t even bother with the limes. “You know, we’re built to care what other people think,” he says, as if he can read my mind. “That’s what civilization means.”

“Sure,” I agree with a sigh. “It’s just not very convenient sometimes. Maybe I need to practice not caring.”

“My mother has an embroidered pillow on the sofa in the den. It says—Do one thing every day that scares you.”