Unforgettable: Book Three (A Hollywood Love Story #3)(81)

“Sorry, guys. Daddy’s a very bad boy.” He put his index finger to his mouth. “Shh! Don’t tell Mommy.”

The babies giggled.

It was my turn to laugh. I had to admit—it was endearing to watch Jaime interact with his little ones. He clearly adored them. An unexpected frisson of jealousy shot through me. Oddly, I’d never thought about having a family and kids or the concept of fatherhood.

Jaime handed me a menu and smiled. “You don’t have to worry. I’m buying. You’re the client.”

The truth: Jaime and I had the kind of relationship where no one counted. He enjoyed treating as much as I did. After perusing the menu, we ordered our usual from Marge, the buxom, bottle-blond waitress who’d been here forever. Two hot pastrami sandwiches on rye, a side of fries, and two Doctor Brown cream sodas. And for the babies, a couple of water bagels and a side of sliced carrots. They were already fingering some Cheerios that Jaime had brought along. Milk bottles and assorted plastic toys were also scattered on their high chair trays. In no time, they would be playing with cell phones, I mused as Marge came right back with our beverages.

“So how’s it going with your ‘girlfriend?’” Jaime asked, making mock quotation marks with his index and middle fingers.

I twisted my lips. “Not well.” I launched into my Operation Dickwick story.

“Are you f*cking kidding me? You almost bit off his fingers?” By the end, Jaime was laughing so hard he was crying.

I felt my cheeks flare. In retrospect, it was a really dumb-ass thing to do.

Jaime took a sip of soda straight from the bottle and calmed down. “Man, you’re doing it all wrong, Blakester. The way to a girl’s G-spot is through her heart. You’ve got to romance her. Compliment the way she looks. Buy her presents. Come to her rescue.”

I digested Jaime’s words. I’d done all those things. Well, except for the presents. Maybe I had to work at it harder. Except there was still that one little problem . . .

“Jay-Z, she works for me. I’m her boss.”

Jaime’s eyes widened with surprise. “That does make it a little harder.”

A little harder? He had way too many Cheerios on his brain.

“Do you have a company fraternization policy?”

I told him that Conquest Broadcasting frowned upon inter-office relationships but didn’t forbid them as long as employees maintained transparency with Human Resources. Most of them, however, had ended up in disaster—with one or both of the individuals quitting their job or getting fired. There was too much riding on the line. Jennifer McCoy had a bright future ahead of her. I didn’t want her to get fired. And I didn’t want her to quit. The bottom line: I didn’t want to lose her in any way possible. I wanted her to be mine.

“I hope you don’t mind. I invited her to lunch because I want you to meet her,” I said as Marge returned with the rest of our order. She plunked our sandwiches and the fries down on the table and then attended to the twins.

“Here you go, cutie-pies.” She set the bagels and plastic bowls of stewed carrots on their high chair trays. The twins flailed their little arms with excitement and instantly reached for the bagels.

With the babies contently chewing on their circles of dough, Jaime and I dug into our thick pastrami sandwiches. Man, it was good. Worth the coronary it might give me. On my next bite, my heart skipped a beat. Jennifer was heading toward us. A smile lit up her face and her eyes sparkled. I swallowed quickly.

“Hi,” she said brightly when she got to our table. Our eyes made contact. I could feel a current of electricity pass between us.

Jaime rose from his seat, and I introduced them.

He shook her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Jennifer. Blake has told me so much about you.”

Behave, Jay-Z. Just like me, he could be a cocky bastard. I was half-expecting him to say something like, “Your tits are even more perfect in person.” I held my breath. Thank f*cking God, he didn’t. He was behaving like a gentleman.


She smiled again. “Same here.” Her eyes shifted to the twins and her warm smile broadened. “And who do we have here?”

“These are my twins—Paulette and Payton.” Jaime’s eyes glinted with paternal pride. Payton was the spitting image of Jaime with his dimpled chin and crown of golden brown curls. Paulette, in turn, looked just like Gloria with her full ruby lips and platinum locks. Both had Jaime’s denim blue eyes.

“Oh my God. They’re adorable!” She waved at them. “Hi.”

Indeed, they were in their matching circus-print rompers and flaunting big dimpled smiles. Balls. And so was she. I admired how at ease she was with Jaime and the babies.

“Have a seat,” I told her, gesturing to the one to my left.

“If you don’t mind, I need to run to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”

“She’s hot,” Jaime mouthed as soon as she was gone.

“I know.” My stomach knotted. “It f*cking kills me she’s with that douchebag.”

“Hang in there. I saw the way she looked at you. Trust me, she’s hot for you.”

“From your lips to God’s ears as my father would say.”

Jennifer returned quickly. She scanned the menu while Marge hovered over her. “I want the most unhealthy, least vegan thing you have.”