What He Bargains (What He Wants, Book Nineteen) (10 page)

And then, after a long time, he gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m not going to tell them to leave you alone,” he said, as if pronouncing a verdict. As if he was judge, jury and executioner rolled into one.

“Why not?” she asked, shocked by his cold response.

“Because,” he said, “I still want what I proposed to you last night. You were at that party, and you work for Club Alpha even if you don’t want to admit it.” He stared at her without any guilt or sense of remorse.

And then it hit her like a ton of bricks.

He wants to have sex with me for money. For some reason, that’s what he wants from me more than anything else.

The realization both disgusted her, and somehow—frustratingly—also turned her on. And she thought that Jake knew exactly how he was making her feel which enraged her further.

She tried to talk sense to him with increasing urgency. “They tricked me into signing something. I still don’t even know exactly what I signed.”

He shrugged. “How is that my problem?”

She looked at him and her insides went numb with rage. “I should’ve known that you’d act this way.”

“Is that so?” he said, not terribly concerned.

“Yeah, I should have known because it’s so obvious. You’re so obvious.” And as she said the words, she looked into his eyes and knew it was true. She knew that she saw more about him than he wanted to admit, just as he seemed to see more about her than she liked to admit.

“I’m so obvious?” he asked, an edge creeping into his voice.

“Yeah,” she said, starting to laugh now. “You do these ridiculously cheesy movies and you make silly records for teenage girls, and now it’s so clear to me why someone as talented as you does all of that.”

“Oh,” he said softly, “and why don’t you enlighten me as to why that is?”

“Because it’s easy. You take the easy way out of everything, don’t you? But nobody realizes it—nobody else sees what a fraud you are. You know it though, don’t you Jake?”

He stared at her, his eyes burning with something she couldn’t even name.

She was breathing heavily, so angry that she wanted to slap him across his face, but she also suddenly felt like she wanted him to grab her and push her down on the seat and kiss her, rip her shirt off, put his hands all over her body.

As they continued to lock eyes, she saw that he was deeply, deeply angry. He was at least as angry as she was, barely restraining himself from saying or doing something extreme.

Maybe he wants to do those very same things that I’m imagining him doing to me.

She looked away from him then, because it occurred to her that if she wasn’t careful he might really touch her, and if he touched her he would know for sure how badly she wanted him.

And that terrified her more than anything.

She turned to the door of the limousine, panicking, tried to open it but it wouldn’t open. Then she began banging on the door, banging and yelling.

“Let me out!” she screamed.

Behind her, she heard Jake starting to laugh. “Poor little Raven—running away so soon after making her stand against the big bad fraud.”

She wouldn’t say anything else, though, wouldn’t even dare look at him. If she did, she might fall to her knees and agree to anything and everything he wanted right then and there.

Suddenly, the limousine door opened from the outside and the mountain-sized security guard poked his head in. “Everything okay in here?”

“I need to go,” she said, pushing her way out, past the security guard.

Raven got out and then the door was shut, sealing Jake Novak off from her and the outside world.

The limo instantly pulled away and sped off, leaving nothing but dust in its wake.

“You’d better go home,” the security guard told her. “And stay away from Jake from now on.”

“Got it,” she replied dully, and started walking slowly back to the train.

If there was one thing she didn’t need to be told twice, it was to stay away from Jake Novak.

T
he rest
of the day was strange for Raven. She went home to her apartment and hung out on the couch, watching reality TV and stuffing her face with bad food.

She knew that she really needed to be searching for another job, because by the time she got hired and started making any money, her funds would be frighteningly low, even if she found something quickly.

But her mind felt worn out, fried from the excitement and anxiety of everything that had gone on the last twenty-four hours.

As she sat around half-watching television, she kept thinking back on the conversation in the limousine with Jake. She kept remembering that burning look in his eyes when she’d said those horrible things to him.

Every time she remembered what it had felt like to call him a fraud, and the way he’d looked afterwards—she got a sensation in her stomach that was part dread and part anticipation.

There had been something so chemically electric between them, like a force field, and it confused her. Jake Novak had acted like a total arrogant jerk, uncaring, scoffing at the problems he had created in her life. And yet, beneath that, she sensed that he was something else entirely—like he’d been misunderstood by everyone in the world who knew him or knew of him.

Don’t be silly, Raven. Don’t go thinking that you have some super special relationship or understanding of Jake Novak. That’s delusional, it’s insane, and it’s going to lead you nowhere.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling, couldn’t stop replaying those final moments with him and the panic that had overtaken her when she’d realized how easily he could’ve had his way with her if he’d tried even a little.

This circular routine led her to just sit around and eat herself into a sugar coma, and by the time it was late enough for bed, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to bother getting undressed or washing her face, brushing her teeth, anything.

Maybe I’ll just fall asleep on the couch and wake up tomorrow with a kink in my neck. Who cares?

You’re depressed. That’s what this is.

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t seem to rouse herself to feel anything but lethargy. On television, one Kardashian was yelling at another Kardashian. They sisters all blurred together.

And then she heard the buzzing of her cell phone from its place on the coffee table next to the empty bottle of Diet Coke.

Raven grabbed for it and held it up, seeing a number that was unfamiliar, but it wasn’t blocked. Her mind worked through a dozen different possibilities of who this could be, and none of them were any good.

Yet, for some unexplained reason, she decided to answer. Maybe it was because she’d done nothing since getting home but lie around and eat sugary foods, maybe it was because any voice was better than the loneliness of the TV and the Kardashians screaming stupidities at one another.

Whatever the reason, she picked up and said hello, prepared for anyone except who it actually was.

“Do you know who this is?” he said.

Instantly, she did. Jake Novak had called her.

“How did you get my number?”

He laughed a little. “It’s not really that difficult, Raven. Think about it.”

It was true. She wasn’t listed, but he was Jake Novak and obviously Max Mendez had her number, so the question wasn’t exactly relevant. “Okay, then,” she said, sitting up, suddenly very awake. “Why are you calling me?”

There was a lengthy pause. “I’ve been thinking about what you said to me.”

“Oh.” She swallowed, her heart beating in her throat. “What were you thinking about it?”

“I was thinking that I had a lot to say to you. And then I was kind of curious what you would say back if I told you any of it.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Jake Novak—THE JAKE NOVAK—had been replaying their conversation from earlier in the day, the same as her. Only he’d probably not done it from a prone position on a shitty couch with empty Oreo boxes and Pringles lying around on the floor nearby. He’d probably been sitting in his limo or dining at some fancy gourmet restaurant.

She took a deep breath. “Maybe you should tell me what you wanted to tell me and find out.”

“Maybe I will.” There was another long pause. “Feel like getting some fresh air?”

“Huh?” She stood up now, pacing nervously.

“I said—do you want to get some fresh air—as in, come out with me for a bit?” He laughed.

“I—Uh….I don’t know…I’m…” she started running in circles, panic stricken, trying to determine how quickly she could be presentable.

“It’s not a big deal, Raven,” he said with amusement. “I’m not talking about buying a home together, I’m just saying I want to take you for a ride and talk for a few minutes.”

“When did you want to meet?”

“Well, I’m sitting outside your apartment right now, so the near future would be great.”

Shit. Shit. Shit
.

Raven ran into her bedroom and hopped onto the futon. Because she was in the basement apartment, her windows were really high up and there were very few of them. Craning her head up, she was able to see the street but couldn’t really tell who was out there.

“You’re outside my apartment right now?” she said, partly hoping he wasn’t, but also desperately wanting him to be telling the truth.

“I’m here,” he said. “But I don’t want to wait around forever, Raven.”

“Where do you want to go? How should I be dressed?”

“Any way you feel comfortable. Meet me outside in five minutes.” And then he hung up.

She stared at her cell phone as if it had just bit her.

Jake Novak is out there, waiting for you. He drove all the way here to Watertown to see you and only you. Out of all the women in the world—literally millions of them—he picked you to call, you to talk to, you to invite out.

But why? What about her had gotten his attention?

None of it seemed real and none of it made any sense. She wished that she could be the type of girl to just take it in stride, to feel that she was his equal, to hold herself confidently and expect nothing but the best.

There wasn’t any time for second-guessing right now, though, and so she stopped worrying and started moving. Five minutes wasn’t very long at all. She ran to the bathroom, stripped down, sprayed perfume, washed her face in less than thirty seconds, pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

Blinking as water still dripped down her cheeks, she looked and saw a girl who was attractive enough without a bunch of makeup or some crazy hairstyle. She might not have been the kind of girl to turn every head when she walked into a room, but she didn’t need bells and whistles to look cute.

As long as I got the Oreo crumbs out of the corners of my mouth, I’m good.

That reminded her about all the junk food she’d been scarfing down all day, and she grabbed her toothbrush and brushed her teeth, rinsed with mouthwash and then ran back to the bedroom, throwing on jeans, a light sweater, and flats.

In the full-length mirror, she thought she looked cute enough, although it wouldn’t have been her first choice if she’d really had time to put herself together.

Maybe it was better not to overthink it though. This wasn’t a date, in any case. Jake had made it clear to her that he had little interest in a relationship, and only wanted to pay her for her “services,” whatever that even meant.

If it wasn’t a date, she needn’t worry about looking all hot and sexy.

As she was leaving the apartment, she once again was struck by the ridiculousness of the situation. Outside, right that very moment, the biggest star in the world was waiting for her, wanting to talk to her.

What would Skylar say?

What would anyone who’d ever known her think?

She didn’t know, all she knew was that this was happening. It was all too real.

And then she was running out of her apartment, up the stairs, and out the door to the street, looking everywhere for the car—maybe the limo—where he should have been.

But she didn’t see any car.

And then she heard an engine throttling loudly, turned her head and saw a man on a motorcycle pulling up to the curb nearby. He was wearing a motorcycle helmet, so he wasn’t identifiable—until he pulled it off.

Jake Novak had ridden a really slick, beautiful motorcycle to her apartment, like he was a character in one of his movies. He was in jeans and a plain white t-shirt with a camouflage jacket hanging open.

He stepped off the bike and put down the kickstand, so it leaned slightly. Then he went to the back of the bike, where a little cargo netting held another helmet. “You in the mood for fresh air or not?” he said, looking up at her and seeing the reservation on her face.

“I’ve never been on one of those,” she said, stepping down onto the sidewalk and slowly coming closer.

“It’s a motorcycle, not a python,” he said. “It won’t hurt you to get close.”

No, but you might hurt me
if
I get too close to you.

Jake unhooked the helmet from the back seat and handed it to her. She held it—it was smooth and heavier than she expected.

“We won’t be going too fast, will be?”

“What would be too fast?” he asked, staring directly into her eyes.

Raven suddenly thought of the double meaning in the question, and her thoughts began to race, her mind filling with all kinds of images that she knew were inappropriate.

But I want to go too fast with you
, she thought.
I want to go all the way, and I want to scream at the top of my lungs.

She didn’t say any of this, of course. Instead, she shrugged, afraid to speak and incriminate herself.

“Come on, Raven,” Jake said, tilting his head toward the motorcycle. Then he straddled it and put on his helmet.

Raven hesitated for a moment but finally decided that she wasn’t going to chicken out, so she might as well stop putting off the inevitable.

She quickly walked to the motorcycle and then got on behind him, sliding the helmet down over her head.

“Put your arms around my waist,” Jake called back as he got ready to start the engine.