Victoria's Got a Secret (21 page)

Preston’s eyes were glassy and wild. He kept glancing around and shifting. A mass of constant motion, which was a new thing he’d picked up.

She focused on this thin lips. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You seem . . . funny.”

His usual detached demeanor had been replaced with twitching. “We need to head out.”

Leaving would be a relief. “Okay.”

Still not sure what was happening or the reason behind Preston’s jumpy behavior, she put her arm through Preston’s. For the briefest of moments she let her gaze touch on Paul. A visual caress for a second in that one last look.

Something on her face had Preston spinning around. He followed her stare.

“What are you . . .” His eyebrows lifted. “Ah, I get it.”

Her blood froze. “What?”

“Now I see what has you so excited. Paul’s here. Perfect.” Preston didn’t run his hands together like a scene is some bad movie, but he looked like he could.

“For what?”

He smiled with a coldness that chilled her. “I’m fine with it. He’s a friend. You’re close.”

Every cell in her body whirled in panic. The thought of her worlds colliding here, like this, with Preston on edge and Paul relaxed, made the room spin around her. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you say hello to him? Catch up on old times?”

“No.”

“Now, that’s no way to treat an old lover.”

“Preston, don’t—”

“Let’s go relive old times, shall we?” Preston turned toward the bar.

She grabbed his arm and tugged until he faced her again. It took all of her strength and will to stop his tracks. “I want to leave.”

“We can talk, maybe exchange some stories about you. We’re all grown-ups.”

She wasn’t convinced that was true at the moment. “We’re supposed to meet the others in an hour.”

She didn’t want to go out or haunt the clubs. Everything inside her screamed to rush home and hide there. This was her nightmare. She’s dreamed about seeing Paul again, but not like this.

Preston’s smirk morphed into a frown. “Why are you so nervous?”

Terrified was more like it. “I’m not.”

“I was thinking we should get together with him. You know I’ve been wanting us to make some new friends and try a few adventures.”

She knew what he really meant, and it had nothing to do with friendship. This was part of Preston’s pushing of her boundaries. He wanted to take her to dark, forbidden places she didn’t want to go.

“No, Preston.”

He stood there for a second before a smile broke over his face.

“You win this round.”

She never won. Not with him. She might not be strong enough to leave him, but she was smart enough to get that.

“I think we should get out of here.”

“And I believe in giving a woman what she wants.”

She didn’t question her luck in him dropping the subject.

Instead, she moved him out the door as fast as possible.

“You’re Paul, right?”

Dark hair and an expensive suit. Paul knew exactly who this guy was. He’d seen him around. Heard stories. The guy was some business genius.

Preston, the man Jennifer lived with, probably loved.

He’d been sitting at the table in the bar, staring for the last twenty minutes. He’d been in the same place last week, but Paul had only caught a glimpse of him that night. Something had twitched at the back of his neck, and when he turned, he’d seen Preston shuffling toward the door.

Paul got the hint. Clearly, the man wanted attention. Paul wasn’t in the mood for a fight and certainly didn’t want to think about Jennifer. He didn’t want to think of any woman, really. The situation with Wendy had rubbed him raw.

She called every day and he ignored her. They were over and he was looking forward to some time alone. No more jumping from relationship to relationship. A guy could only take so much crazy in his life.

He would have left the bar now, shoved this smirking jerk to the side and hit the door, except that he was meeting Neil and a few other friends. So Paul sat there and shook hands with the guy who now had the right to touch Jennifer every night.

The thought kicked him as hard as Wendy’s betrayal. If he were being honest, even harder.

“I have something for you.” The guy’s voice was as smooth as scotch.

Paul hated the other man on sight. “What?”

“Here.” Preston slid a piece of paper across the bar in Paul’s direction.

It was all a bit too spy-like for Paul’s taste. If the guy had something to say, he should just say it. Playing games was not his thing. Engaging in some sort of showdown with this jackass didn’t sit well either.

Paul knew he no longer had the right to fight for Jennifer. That was this guy’s role now.

“What is it?” he asked without turning the paper over to read it. If the guy wanted to play games, fine, but Paul wasn’t participating.

Preston hesitated, his gaze narrowing. “Jennifer’s private cell number.”

Paul cringed at the way the guy said her name, all possessive and demanding, like he owned her or something. But there was something else. A desperation that pulsed just under the surface.

One thought lead to another until Paul’s mind went barreling in a dozen directions, most of them bad. “Is she okay? Did something happen?”

Despite his women-free vow, he’d break it for her. If she needed him, he’d figure out a way to be there for her. To hell with self-preservation. “She wants to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“You should ask her.”

The conversation bordered on crazy. Jennifer’s boyfriend throwing them together. What kind of guy did that?

“Tell me what’s going on,” Paul said.

“That’s between the two of you.”

But there was nothing between them. Hadn’t been for years.

And there was no way this guy wanted to take them all back there.

Paul wasn’t even sure he could go if invited. Every time Jennifer left him, she took a piece of his heart with her. He didn’t have much left to spare.

He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Hey.” Neil slid onto the barstool next to Paul. “What’s up?”

“What you do from here is your choice.” Preston walked away without another word.

“Who was that?” Neil reached for the bowl of peanuts and slid them to him.

“Preston.”

Neil’s mouth dropped open. “Jennifer’s Preston?”

The words shot through Paul and landed right in the center of his chest like a dead weight. “Yeah.”

“Did I miss a fight or something?”

“He wants to me to call Jennifer.” Paul turned the scrap of white paper over in his hands. He stared at the numbers and memorized them without trying.

“For God’s sake, why?”

“No idea.”

“Are you going to?”

He balled up the paper in his fist. “Hell, no.”

But he knew he would.

Paul picked up the receiver and slammed it back down again. He’d purposely left his cell in the car to cut down on the temptation to call her.

It had been less than twenty-four hours since Preston handed him Jennifer’s number, and he’d thought about nothing but placing that call. Weakness ate at his gut every minute. Neil had offered to take the paper and get rid of it, but it was too late. The numbers flashed in Paul’s mind whether he was awake or asleep.

Some great cosmic joke kept throwing him right into Jennifer’s path. It had been years, but hearing her name brought it all back. The soft feel of her skin and sexy goodness of her laugh. The body. The face. That incredible mind.

It was so tempting to see what she wanted, if she wanted something, and hear her voice.

But this felt wrong. Jennifer didn’t contact him. He hadn’t heard anything about her having trouble, though he went out of his way not to hear things about her. If something bad had happened, Heather would have called. That was the unspoken promise when they saw each other the last time.

Then there was the look on the jerk’s face as he handed over the number. Smug and self-satisfied. Paul tried to imagine what someone like Jennifer would see in that guy. Money and power were seductive beasts, but he’d never thought Jennifer would get sucked into all that shallow crap.

He stared at the phone one more time.

He should get up. Go out and get a beer. Call Neil and catch a game. Anything but pick up that phone and punch in the numbers.

The receiver was in his hand before he finished the thought. With each ring, he prayed she wasn’t around. If her voicemail picked up, he had no idea what he would say.

He’d hang up. Yeah, that was the plan. She had this one chance before he banished the number from his brain.

The phone rang a third time. One more and he was free.

Jennifer stood in the middle of her closet and raced to pull her turtleneck over her head. Her head poked through the second before she performed a perfect diving grab for the phone.

She hit the button on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

Only dead air greeted her. She started to disconnect before she heard it. The slight puff of breathing.

This was her private line. She didn’t get crank calls here because so few people had access to the number.

“Hello?” She put enough anger in her voice to let the person on the other end know she wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Jennifer.”

The husky whisper made her eyes close. An unexpected wave of happiness swept through her. Being connected to him even through this tenuous feed provided a lifeline she didn’t even know she needed.

“Paul.” She wanted to say more, to be witty and ask all the right questions, but the one word was enough.

He must have seen her the other night at the bar or talked to Heather. The possibilities ran through Jennifer’s mind until the nosiness threatened to overtake her.

“How did you get this number?” She used all of her energy to keep her voice neutral. She had nothing left to fuel her muscles and keep her on her feet.

She slid down to the comforter, hunching over the phone as she pressed it tight against her skin. Anything to be closer to him.

Anything to hear the warm caress of his voice in her ear.

“Preston gave it to me.”

A cold wash of reality poured over her. Preston, the one name she never uttered or even thought about in comparison to Paul. Preston was trying to taint her feelings and erase her past.

He wanted to drag her memories into his lifestyle and ruin the good thoughts she still had for Paul. She refused to let that happen.

“Jennifer?” The scratchy edge to Paul’s voice didn’t leave when he cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

Her shoulders slumped from the weight of everything crashing in on her. She dropped her forehead to her hand and massaged her temples.

“Yes.” The word sounded false in her ears. She knew Paul would see through the lie.

“Why did Preston tell me to call you?” Confusion filled Paul’s rough voice.

“I don’t know.” But she did.

Preston knew Paul was her greatest weakness. Preston wanted to bring someone else into their relationship, and she’d resisted. She didn’t want any part of that life.

Handing Paul to her as an option was a brilliant move. The temptation to see him, touch him, was so great that she almost gave in. Would if Paul gave even the slightest indication he missed her.

“Jennifer, I—”

Instead of spelling it out, she went for the abbreviated version. The details weren’t necessary. “Preston likes to play games.”

Paul let out a deep breath. When he spoke again, his words shook. “I can’t do this.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I know.”

“Seeing you would . . .”

“I know.” She did.

Paul wasn’t in a good place, wasn’t strong enough to turn her down. She could hear it in every word he spoke. Felt it as if it traveled through the phone.

He was pure temptation. She needed him so badly, so desperately. Part of her wanted to ignore his pleas and explore whatever they could have together. But the bigger, smarter part of her knew being together like this would destroy everything.

He was clean and good. Not perfect, but their time had been precious. She refused to stain that with Preston’s twisted fantasies.

“I don’t think we should meet. It’s not like last time,” Paul said.

She nodded her head, unable to speak as she choked back tears.

“The timing is—”

“Wrong,” she croaked out. “Yeah, I know.”

She sat and held the phone, listening to his steady breathing and enjoying the silence, knowing it was all they should have.

After a few minutes, he broke the quiet. “Promise me something.”

“Anything.” In that moment she would have knit him the moon if she could.

“Stay strong.” Then he hung up the phone.

Twenty-Three

Success doesn’t mean everything.

—Grandma Gladys, The Duchess

J
ENNIFER HAD ALWAYS PRIDED HERSELF ON BEING ABLE
to read people. She believed in Zodiac signs and had started investigating tarot cards. She understood there was something more in the world than the tangible things she could feel and see.

None of that explained what was happening to her. Naked News had made her famous in many circles. Her appearance on
Howard Stern
the year before took the show from subscribers in the tens of thousands to more than a quarter of a million. Now they had more than six million hits per month.