Switched, Bothered and Bewildered (16 page)

She couldn't believe her eyes.

Jackson Hawks looked like a nervous schoolboy. He had flowers and what looked like a box of chocolates tucked under his arm. He was doing a little jig between punching the doorbell repeatedly.

Jana Lee turned back to the wall and put her hand over her mouth to keep the laugh from coming out too loud.

Then she got mad. What the hell right did Jackson Hawks have to show up unannounced at a girl's apartment? Who did he think he was?

The doorbell chimed again, rendering her practically deaf in one ear.

She turned to the door, twisted the top lock, and flung it open. "What the
hell
do you think you're doing here, Mr. Hawks? Did I miss something? Do we have a meeting scheduled? Did I invite you over?"

*
   
*
   
*

Ms. Tompkins was standing holding the door dressed only in a large towel. Her dark brown hair was tied back in a black velvet ribbon, and water streamed down from each tendril. Her skin was pink from what must have been the hot bath
Jackson had pulled her out of. She looked delicious. He ached to touch those smooth, creamy shoulders and run his mouth down her ... "I'm
very
sorry. I called, but there was no answer. I-I just had to see you."

"Did Pitman burn down? Did hell freeze over?" She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, which made a slapping noise in the water puddle she'd created.

"Yes, hell froze over." For him, that was almost true. It must have, because that was the only thing that could make him be such an idiot.

She smiled just a touch. His heart skipped a beat.

"You can have five minutes, because you are my
boss."
She took the candy out of his hands— somewhat awkwardly, considering the towel. "I'm going to put a robe on. Make yourself useful and mop up this mess I made before it ruins the floors."

"Kitchen through there?" He took one step inside and pointed to a logical direction.

"Yup." She slammed the door behind him and stalked off. The towel dipped down in back like a low-cut dress. He could see the curve of her rear end taunting him.

Jackson
marched himself into the kitchen and

laid down the flowers. He was in. The sleek black granite countertops were practically bare, but he found a kitchen towel neatly folded next to the sink.

The next thing he knew he was down on his hands and knees in his best Caraceni suit, blotting water spots off the bamboo slat floors. Nice floors. He'd always wondered what an installation of bamboo would look like. He had dark cherry hardwood at his place. It went better with that old traditional Frisco Victorian row house, the kind he'd inherited from his family when he'd been given the Bayview house.

Boy, he must like this woman a whole lot.

Jana Lee peeked around the corner to see the handsome
Jackson on his hands and knees blotting water off her sister's floor. She smiled to herself and zipped up the fleece sweatshirt she'd dug out of Jil-lian's drawers. They were a little snug, but sweatpants, a warm-up jacket and a T-shirt didn't send the wrong message, and that's what she wanted.

Even so, she had to be a little nicer to the vice president than asking him if hell had frozen over. She walked over and stood above him, trying not to laugh.

"Thank you, Mr. Hawks. Can I fix you a cup of coffee to go with these chocolates?"

He got off the floor and handed her the damp kitchen towel. "That would be nice. Can you put a shot of bourbon in it?"

"Are you driving?" She headed for the kitchen. He followed her.

"No. I took a cab. I don't drive in the city much. Parking is nuts."

"Do you think it's right for you to show up unannounced at a female employee's house at night?"

Jackson
leaned up against the counter and crossed his arms. "Technically, you are my equal at work. You're the CFO of the most important department. I'm only the vice president. That's like CEO of nothing, you know. Vice presidents are dinosaurs. No one really needs them."

"Oh, please. You're one away from being the head of the company. Was there a financial report you wanted to discuss and thought it might go better with flowers and chocolates on the side?" Jana Lee was opening cupboards trying to find a vase and coffee filters for Jillian's coffeemaker, thinking how
she
was CEO of nothing in real life. She located all of the items and remembered the coffee was kept in the fridge.

Jackson
threw his hands in the air. "I confess; this isn't business related. Well, not completely. I've been thinking about what you said in regards to the retro toy concept. I've been thinking about it so much I can't think about anything else lately. It brought up a whole lot of memories and. . . things, looking at that book."

"Really?" Why he'd had to come over here in

the evening to discuss this eluded her, but the fact that he liked her idea was exciting. Jana Lee poured water into the vase and plopped in the extremely beautiful flowers—day lilies, orchids and all sorts of stuff she couldn't identify. Then she filled the coffeemaker and flipped the On switch. Jillian had a very pretty art deco bar in the living room, and Jana Lee was sure there'd be something drinkable to be had in there. Her sister had good taste in most things.

"Really. Then I thought if I had that kind of reaction, maybe other people would too—parents who are my age, parents with little kids."

"Right, that's what I was thinking."

"I guess you and I missed out on the kid thing so far."

Jana Lee didn't answer that one. "I think there's whiskey in the bar. I'll take you up on the Irish coffee. Maybe there's whipped cream around here somewhere."

That must have given
Jackson all kinds of ideas, because he followed her to the living room and watched her open the mirrored bar. "Is this okay?" She held up a bottle of Jack Daniel's.

"
Tennessee
, not
Ireland, but it will do nicely. A bit of sugar, and we'll scour your fridge for whipped cream."

"I will," she said. She'd glanced in Jillian's fridge once when she'd first gotten here and found a really strange assortment of nothing in there. Jil-

lian must eat almost all her meals out. She'd have to talk to her about that. No wonder she'd had an
episode.
Her diet probably stunk.

Of course she wasn't one to talk—she'd been living out of the freezer section of Central Market for a few years now. Anyhow, she didn't think Jil-lian would appreciate
Jackson looking through her bare fridge and cupboard.

When the coffees were made and squirted with whipped cream from an aerosol can that amazingly hadn't gone sour,
Jackson carried them and the chocolates out to the living room. He perched on an odd orange modern sofa directly across from her, feeling somewhat uncomfortable but very interested in what she was saying. It was an unusual moment in his life for some reason.

"Anyway," she went on, "I think the whole thing will work with the right marketing. If kids get that magic combination of educational and fun, we'll be doing a good thing at the same time. Like
Lincoln logs, you know? The moon-landing toy teaches about history. The dress-up box will have more career possibilities than just being a princess, because as we know, we're not all Grace Kelly."

"Which reminds me, weren't you on some kids' show when you were young?"
Jackson asked.

"Yes,
Harvey
the Big Blue Dragon,"
she answered.

"You and your
 
sister,"
 
Jackson added.
 
She

looked really uncomfortable. Maybe she didn't like to be reminded.

"Yup. Ancient history."

"But it has possibilities, all that medieval stuff, and that was a popular show at the time. Knights, princesses, that's history too. Somewhat glamorized history, but still history."

"We could have a little sword-wielding crusader out to crush the Huns," she said dryly.

"Oh, you
do
have a sense of humor under that sweat suit."
Jackson stirred his coffee and took a big slurp. "You know, Jillian, I never noticed this creative streak of yours. As a matter of fact, there are a whole lot of things I never noticed about you."

"And there I was, right under your nose." She poked around in the open Ghirardelli chocolates, picked one, and nibbled on it.
Jackson watched her with interest.

"You seem different than before. I mean, I heard about your little—"

"Crackup? It was minor. I just needed a rest." She looked away.

From what he'd heard it had been anything but minor, but he could see he had embarrassed her. He better segue out of this subject. "Obviously the R&R did you good. Work can eat you up if you let it."

"How do you keep from letting that happen yourself,
Jackson?"

"I'm fairly self-indulgent. I get a massage once a

week, I dine out with beautiful women, even on Mondays, and I have an odd group of friends that keep me from getting too serious. They drag me to basketball games and make sure I don't get too full of myself."
Jackson didn't mention that in his crowd he was the last remaining single man. Even Scott and Scott had paired up and were domestically content, writing gay romance novels together.

"Sounds like you're doing well."

She seemed to be dancing around getting too personal, and she sure didn't want to talk about herself. This evening wasn't going the way he'd thought it might. She'd been sipping her Irish coffee, keeping to polite conversation. There wasn't much of an in for him to get closer. He finished his coffee and stood up.

"Well, I guess I should let you get back to whatever you were doing. Work tomorrow, and all that. If we're going to add any of the products we've talked about, it will take some real magic to get them into production." He headed for the kitchen to put his cup in the sink. She followed him.

"I'm glad you like the ideas. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I should learn to be more spontaneous, I guess. And thank you for the beautiful flowers and chocolates."

"I should have called."

"You did, remember? I just didn't hear the phone."

"Would you like to have dinner with me Friday?" he asked, going for a traditional approach.

"I think that would be fine/' she answered.

Well, that was progress; she didn't slap him or spit in his eye. "Maybe a movie or something?"

"Maybe."

Don't press your luck, buddy. He headed for the front door. "Goodnight then, I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll be there." She walked him to the door and opened it for him.

He stepped into the hallway and nodded one last time as the door closed in his face. He heard the locks click from the inside.

Jackson
stuck his hands in his pockets and guitar-walked himself down the hall to the elevator to the imaginary rhythm of
American Idiot,
his favorite Green Day album.

He had a date with the reserved Ms. Tompkins. Boy, would he like to see what she was like loosened up. Maybe he'd take her dancing. Somewhere sort of Starlight Room-ish where the music was slow and you held each other close. Maybe a little body heat would warm up the cool and controlled Ms. Tompkins.

He was sure about one thing; she had been known to go a little crazy.

He whistled his way down the street and let himself feel... hopeful.

*
    
*
    
*

Jana Lee stuffed a pillow over her face and screamed. Why had she agreed to go to dinner with him? She was so confused. Impersonating your sister was so confusing.
Jillian
had a crush on this guy. This was just crazy.

For once in her life Jana Lee understood why Jillian had allowed Elliot to seduce her. He had been an extremely charming man. Jana Lee had always suspected that in the back of his mind he'd been fantasizing about having sex with both sisters at once.

She shuddered.

And Elliot: He'd just known what to say to make a girl fall in love with him—if she was twenty and ready to fall in love.

But the whole deal where your brain just departs for parts below,
that
she was starting to understand.

She and Jillian had been so close most of their lives that she hadn't been very good at making new friends. Jillian had taken up that space where a best friend usually goes. Jillian was who she'd learned to share with. No one knew her like Jillian did. They were made of the same stuff—literally. The years they had lost because of the Elliot incident were just tragic. She could never let that happen again.

She rolled over on Jillian's serene, pale olive green and deep gold duvet cover and stared at the