“Drinking on duty?” I ask.
He turns to me and lifts his glass. “You know the club has a strict no-alcohol-while-on-the-clock policy. This is iced tea. Want some?”
I hold my hand up. “I’m good, thanks. Have you got a second, or are you heading down to the floor?”
“Too early for that. I don’t usually go downstairs until after ten. That’s when things start hopping.” He gestures to one of his guest chairs. “Sit.”
“I’ll stand. This won’t take long.” I hope.
He shrugs and sits on the corner of his desk. “Suit yourself. What’s up? Did the booze distributer screw up our order again?”
“No, nothing like that.” I change my mind and decide to take a seat. It’s either that or start pacing the room, which would only make me more on edge than I already am. “You asked me earlier if I was seeing anyone.”
“Yeah. And you skillfully avoided answering me.”
“That’s because the person I’m seeing is someone you know.”
His forehead creases in a frown. “Don’t tell me you’re back together with Giselle.”
I frown right back at him. “It’s not Giselle.”
“Thank God. You dodged a bullet with that one. I never liked her. She’s way too high maintenance. Even her name screams pampered princess.”
“You’re the one who practically forced me to ask her out.”
“That was before I got to know her.”
“You could have told me you felt that way earlier. Like maybe before I asked her to move in with me.”
“Would you have listened?” He quirks a brow at me as he sips his iced tea.
I chuckle. “Probably not.”
“If it’s not Giselle, then who is it?”
“I’m not sure you’re going to approve of her any more than my ex.”
“Why? Is she a demanding diva, too?”
“Not exactly.” Damn, I wish that was scotch he’d offered me. To hell with the no-alcohol-on-the-job policy, I could really use a stiff drink right now. I take a deep breath and plunge on. “It’s your sister.”
He chokes on his iced tea, spewing it all over the paperwork messily strewn his across his desk. If I’m a tad on the OCD side, Jake is a certified slob. I don’t know how he finds anything in this mess.
“You’re shitting me,” he says, grabbing a napkin from one of his desk drawers and trying unsuccessfully to blot up the dark stains seeping into his papers.
I rake a hand through my hair. “This isn’t something I’d joke about.”
He crumples up the napkin and tosses it in the trash. “Fuck. I owe Ainsley fifty bucks. She bet me you two were more than roommates.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” I say, disbelieving. “Losing a bet? You’re not mad at me for dating your sister behind your back?”
“The behind my back part stings a little. I don’t get why you felt like you had to hide it from me.”
“I don’t know. I guess I was worried you’d think it was weird. Or that I’d wind up breaking her heart.”
“I’m more concerned she’s going to break yours.”
That has my defense mechanisms on full alert. I tense up and my pulse kicks into high gear. “What do you mean?”
