“And you have to set up a meeting instead of just texting or calling?”
Jake stared at me for a beat, then, not saying a thing, pulled out his phone and hit redial. Without breaking eye contact, he held it up to my ear, his fingers brushing warmly against my cheek.
After several rings, a recording of a smooth British voice started speaking.
“You’ve reached the business associates and professional inquiries line for Phillip Maan, the classiest member of US. If you’re one off his non-annoying friends, please contact his personal line, a number you’d haveif you’re really one of his non-annoying friends.” My eyebrows went up. Playfully, Jake mirrored my expression. “If you’d like to submit a business proposal and arrange a video conference, please fill out the form on my website or press one. If you’d like to request an autographed headshot, please press two. If you’d—”
“What’s the number to press if I want to slap him upside the head?” I asked, already done listening.
“Not on the option list,” Jake replied, pulling his hand back and hanging up. “Which is amazing, really, considering he has seven options.”
“Do I want to know what they are?”
“That depends. Would you like to join his exclusive fan club?”
“Not really, no.”
“Even if he sends out monthly motivational newsletters?”
“Oh, in that case,definitelyno,” I said, making Jake snort.
“Hisbookings,” Jake said, pausing to roll his eyes a secondtime, “are in London time, so I guess he went back home for his vacation. I scheduled a meeting for tomorrow morning UK time. That’s twelve a.m. for us, if you want to be there.”
“Yeah, I’ll come,” I said. “Can we have it at your hotel, though? Mom usually likes to be in bed by then.” She used to be a night owl, but that had changed too since the accident. Though she was recovering well, she was still more tired at the end of the day.
Jake nodded. “Sure.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you at midnight, then.”
“It’s a date.” Jake gave me a roguish half grin. It’s the kind I recognized from his closeups—where his lips curved up on one side and he had a look in his eyes that saidI know something you don’t. It was the kind of smile designed to make you lose your mind.
Which I did not intend to do, by the way.
I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.”
And I pretended my traitorous heart didn’t beat faster.
Chapter Twelve
“I don’t like to think of myself as a flirt,” Phillip commented with a twinkling smile. “I think I’m just naturally charming and love to collect phone numbers. Everyone needs a hobby. Some people crochet.” Dear reader, you should know at this point in our interview, his fellow bandmates began making gagging faces behind him. You should also know that Phillip did, in fact, ask for my number.
—“US Spills All” by Vivi Jones,Teens4Teens Mag
When I entered Jackson Motel at eleven fifteen that night, I found Jake in the deserted lobby, lounging in one of the large cushioned chairs, his long legs stretched out and his black boots resting on the low table in front of him. He seemed indifferent to his surroundings and at ease, a combination that made him somehow stick out and blend in with the run-down nighttime lobby all at once.
Jake’s eyes drifted upward, spotting me. Without breaking eye contact, he rose from his chair. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I replied, glancing around the empty lobby. “Is Leon not coming to talk to Phillip?”
Jake shook his head. “He’s safely tucked away in a suite behind a Do Not Disturb sign.”
“Lucky.”
“Uh-huh. He’s also wearing an eye mask and headphones that deliver ‘soothing ocean noises,’ whatever those are.”
“Zen dolphins?”
“Maybe. Sounds like something Leon would listen to.” Jake checked the time, then looked back over at me, eyes lingering on my sleeveless pale-blue blouse for a second. “C’mon, Cinderella, let’s get you out of the lobby before the clock strikes twelve.”
