Emily's Affair (4 page)

"How do you know that," Lee snapped. "I don't even know that. He could be some sort of sex crazed maniac."

"If he were a sex crazed maniac," Marilyn drawled, "I would have met him by now. They flock to my doorstep in the hordes."

"Ain't that the truth." Booker resumed devouring his pizza. "What's the guy's name?"

"Booker, I know you only want to protect me, but I'd feel better if you—"

Booker wiped his mouth. "Sure thing, baby doll. I'll have my boys check him out for you."

"Lee, if you don't tell him, I will." Marilyn held up a hand as Lee started to protest. "Honey, it's for your own good. Wouldn't you rather know if the guy's a sex crazed maniac before you fall for him rather than afterwards? I'm speaking from experience on this. I know you're capable of taking care of yourself, but both Booker and I would feel better if we knew this Jake character's background."

Booker nodded, his dark face serious. "Listen to her, baby doll. We're only looking out for your best interests." He leaned over and brushed callused knuckles along her cheek. "I promised myself a long time ago that I'd rather die than see you get hurt. And I'm too young to die."

"Both of you are absolutely horrible," Lee muttered without heat. "I make you tons and tons of money and you feel obligated to protect me from an innocent date which I haven't even been asked out on."

Booker gave her his government certified, lethal grin. "What's his name, baby doll?"

"Horrible. Absolutely horrible. Let's get one thing straight, you two. If, and I mean
if
, Jake asks me out and I accept, you two are not to interfere. Is that understood?"

They nodded at her.

"Good. 'Cause I won't tolerate it. If I'm going to have a torrid affair with someone, I'll do it on my terms and no one else's. Is that understood?"

"What's his name, baby doll?"

Lee sighed and knew they hadn't listen to a word she said. "Jacob Grayden."

"Emily Stafford." Jake wiped his hands on the bar towel. "She's got a body that can kill and a walk that'll keep you wondering long after she's left the room."

The other bartender and one-third owner of The Brigade Restaurant and Pub, Alex Waters, poured a beer for a customer. "What kind of wondering?"

Jake grinned and fixed himself a soda. "Silk or cotton."

"Silk or cotton what," Nick, Alex's younger brother and The Brigade's master chef, asked.

Jake and Alex turned to Nick and in unison answered, "Panties."

"Ah,
that
kind of wonderin'," Nick said.

"Don't worry, Nicki, you'll catch on one of these days."

Nick ignored his brother. "When are you going to bring her in here?"

"In here?" Jake laughed. "No thanks. I'll pass."

"Why not?" Alex handed change to a customer then turned to Jake. "What are you afraid of? That she'll like one of us better than you?"

"Well," Nick added, "she's bound to think we're a helluvalot better looking than Jake."

"True. He's probably afraid of a little competition."

"Yeah, but he could take care of that by seeing if Emily has a friend. Or two."

Alex threw a towel at Nick. "Thanks for thinking of me, Nicki."
Nick caught the towel easily. "Anytime, old man."

"I'm only a year older than you."

"Yeah and you look it."

A pretzel flew through the air.

Nick caught it and popped it into his mouth. "Does she have any friends?"

Jake ran a distracted hand through his hair. "I don't know."

"A sister?"

Jake shrugged.

"What
do
you know about her?"

Jake had to fix a drink for a regular customer before he could answer Nick's question. "Not much. She lives in the same building as me. She drives a Jaguar. She has—"

"What color is the Jaguar?"

"Silver."

Alex nodded thoughtfully. "The interior?"

"Tan and leather."

Nick whistled. "New model or—"

"Old and in mint condition."

"She's got money," Alex announced. "What kind of job?"

"Not sure. Some sort of office job. She looks like the executive type."

"How old," Nick asked.

"Twenty-something."

"Twenty-something," Alex muttered to himself. "What kind of twenty-something? Slightly older than jail bait or… on the verge of sexual peak twenty-something?"

"When does that sexual peak thing start?"

Jake rubbed his jaw. "On the verge."

"That ought to be fun. Late twenties, Nicki."

Nick shook his head. "I thought it happened later than that. Early thirties."

"After much studying and countless hours of deliberation on the subject, I have concluded that the majority of women begin their journey to peakdom in the late twenties. They also can reach the peak at any age with my helpful instigation." Alex's smile was smug. "I have the power to—"

Nick fished a cube of ice out of his glass and hurled it at his brother. "Jake, you gonna ask her out?"

"I'd have to get a night off before I could ask her out."

"Why don't you invite her down here on Friday. I'll only need your help when we get slammed and, after Nicki closes the kitchen, you can sit back and find out if she's got any friends."

Jake looked from Alex to Nick. "You sure?"

Nick waved aside the question. "Yep. It's not like I've got a life outside of this place. It might be kind of nice to ponder… silk or—"

"Cotton," Jake and Alex said in unison.

Alex touched his heart. "Cotton panties."

"The fabric of choice," Jake murmured.

Nick chuckled. "I guess that means I'll be stuck behind the bar with Sir Drop-A-Lot."

Jake grinned. "Yeah, I'll ask her."

"Soufflé boy."

Nick pointed a warning finger at his brother. "Don't bring up my soufflé."

Alex chuckled. "Nothing could bring up your soufflé now, pancake boy."

"Keep it up and you can just eat Spaghetti-O's out of the can for dinner."

Alex held up his hands defensively. "Just kidding."

Jake laughed. "What's for dinner, Nick?"

"Broccoli and cheese quiche for you." Nick got up from his bar stool. "Canned pasta for him."

"Aw, Nicki, I really didn't mean it. The pancake was good. A bit flat, but— Ow!" A pretzel hit Alex between the eyes.

It was Thursday night and nearly a week later when Jake returned to his place to get the business account checkbook. On his way back to the truck, he swung by the mailroom to check his box and saw Emily entering the building. Her hair was piled on top of her head and secured with a clip which begged to be released. Her skirt was short and the exact shade of blue he remembered her eyes being.

In one hand, Emily held a dark brown leather briefcase while the other held a phone up to her ear.

Jake shamelessly eavesdropped on her conversation.

"No. Reschedule the Peters meeting for Wednesday. I've got to deal with the board on Monday. If he doesn't like it then tell him he can—" Emily chuckled. It was a soft, husky, blood stirring sound. "I like that one. Do me a favor and jot it down for me. I may have to use it when I go up against Stuart. Did the fax from my broker arrive? What did it say? The gist." She nodded several times then dropped the briefcase into a chair. She arched her back and massaged the back of her neck. "Call his office and leave him a message. Yeah, he has voicemail there. The number is— Good. Tell him to call me at ten and we'll discuss the portfolio." Emily smiled at Jake and gave him a slow wink.

Jake couldn't help himself. He walked around her, set the notebook-sized checkbook next to her briefcase, then settled his hands on her slender shoulders.

Emily followed him with hooded eyes, but let him massage her shoulders. "Marilyn. Tell Booker to put a rush job on his project. I have a feeling…
ooh
, yeah, right there. What? No. Ah, yes. It's exactly like I told you the other night. No. Voice… mail. Oh, that feels too good. What? Sure, just a second." She lifted the phone away from her ear and held it up for him. "It's for you."

Jake pulled her back against him and, keeping one hand moving on her shoulder, took the phone. "Hello?"

"What are you doing to Lee," an amused female asked.

"Massaging her shoulders. She's very tight."

Emily moved and guided his thumb to the spot between her shoulder blades. "Yes.
Ooh, yes
. Right there."

"Where are you?"

"In the lobby."

"Oh," Emily moaned, "a little lower. Mmm,
yes
."

"Who are you?"

"Jake."

"Why are you massaging her tight shoulders?"

"Honestly?"

"Oh God, don't stop," Emily whispered.

"Preferably."

"Because she needs to loosen up some."

The female laughed. "Ain't that the truth. Do me a favor, Jake."

"Sure."

"Take her out and show her a nice time. The girl works too hard. Correction. She works me too hard."

Emily shivered and slumped against him.

Jake laughed softly. "I was just getting around to that. How about Friday night?"

Paper rustled in the background. "She's got a meeting at five. Should be done with it by seven. Where are you taking her?"

"Are you her keeper?"

"Close enough. If I don't pencil it in the appointment book, she never makes it."

"In that case, the place is called The Brigade and the time is… whenever she gets there."

"Directions?"

Jake gave her the directions then said, "You're welcome to join her. The drinks are on me."

"In that case, we'll be there at eight."

"Great." Jake pressed the phone into Emily's hand. "Here you go, sweetheart."

"Hmm?" Emily pulled the phone up to her ear. "Hello, Marilyn. Hmm? Yes."