Jessie Slaymaker's Non-Existent Love Life (The Jessie Slaymaker Series) (5 page)

Tom knew Jessie would be happy. Knowing her as well as he did, this would be the highlight of her year. Even so, Tom felt well and truly snubbed as he fought to mask his real emotions. He watched her surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye and saw her change in the blink of an eye from the strong confident woman that he knew, loved and respected, to someone resembling a love-struck teenager on her first date. Charlie, so it seemed, had finally seen the light. He was actually looking at her with the same hungry eyes that the rest of the room looked at her with. Tom got fed up watching the dancing couple and headed for the bar instead. There was only so much drooling he could stomach. Whiskey wouldn’t be nearly so annoying.

Chapter 14

Jessie couldn’t believe it. After everything that had happened today, and her emotional highs and lows, she had finally got what she wanted. It was a bit much to say that all her dreams had come true, but Charlie coming to dance with her had made her day. She couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear at him—and she found herself feeling shy, unsure of what to say. Thank goodness they were dancing and didn’t have to have an in-depth conversation. If she was totally honest, Charlie wasn’t a great dancer. He was awkward and cumbersome and he wasn’t quite dancing to the beat of the music. If it really was a sign of performance in the bedroom, then it didn’t bode particularly well. Jessie quickly banished that thought from her mind. Of course he would be good in bed.

Thinking of bedrooms, she found herself studying Charlie for a resemblance to his brother. His brother
had
been good in bed. Very good rhythm, indeed. She wondered if Jack was a good dancer—if in fact, he ever danced. For some reason she doubted he did.

After dancing through three consecutive songs, Charlie suddenly grabbed Jessie’s hand and began pulling her off the dance floor.

‘I could really use a drink,’ he declared, tugging her towards the bar. She hadn’t noticed it earlier, so euphoric had she been that he’d asked her to dance, but Charlie seemed to be a little the worse for wear. Maybe that would account for the rotten dancing.

At the bar, slumped slightly on his bar stool, was Tom. He’d been at the whiskey.

‘Hi Tom,’ Jessie said putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘Charlie, you remember Tom, don’t you?’ she added.

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Charlie responded, trying to catch the barman’s attention.

‘We’ve already met at least half a dozen times prick,’ Tom slurred into his tumbler. Jessie pretended not to have heard—as Charlie clearly hadn’t—and helped Charlie order another drink. He downed a whiskey of his own and then asked for another.

As though suddenly realising Jessie was next to him, Tom ruffled a hand through her hair, making it very clear to Charlie that they were on familiar terms.

‘Where’s your hair thingy?’ Tom asked, struggling to focus his eyes on her.

‘Oh shit!’ Jessie exclaimed, touching her head to feel for her fascinator and finding nothing there. ‘I don’t know. That was expensive, too. I’m not sure where I left it.’ She loved that fascinator and couldn’t hide the disappointment on her face. ‘Oh well, never mind,’ she added, keen to change the subject and making a mental note to go in search of it later. She knew exactly where she’d left it.

‘Don’t worry, we
will
find it,’ Tom announced heroically in a Royal Shakespearian voice, as he half-fell off his stool and began looking under tables and on chairs. ‘It simply has to be around here somewhere.’

‘No, it’s
really
okay, Tom,’ Jessie said, trying to disguise the urgency in her voice. Jack was striding with intent across the room towards her and looked to be carrying something black and familiar in his hand. Tom had also noticed Jack’s appearance.

‘Oh hello dear fellow from dinner, you haven’t happened to have seen this fair lady’s headpiece, have you?’ Tom slurringly asked Jack, swaying slightly. Jessie winced as she saw up close what it was that Jack was holding.

‘What colour was it again, Jessie?’ Tom asked, turning to face her.

‘Black,’ she replied sheepishly, unable to meet Jack’s eye. Suddenly the barman seemed very interesting. She felt rather than saw Jack take a moment. Hopefully he was having an inner debate on whether to drop her in it or not. The answer came all too soon.

‘Oh, this,’ Jack said, holding up her bloody fascinator. Jessie cursed herself for being so careless. Tom just stared uncomprehendingly at her. He looked lost.

‘You left this upstairs in my room in your haste to run away earlier,’ Jack said, a little too loudly for Jessie’s liking.

‘You were in Jack’s room?’ Charlie piped up. He was drunk, but he wasn’t
that
drunk. No such luck. Charlie had unhelpfully chosen that precise moment to prick up his ears and start listening. ‘What were you doing in there?’

Jessie felt three sets of eyes all trained on her, ready to attack if she made a wrong move—or worse, said the wrong thing. She couldn’t think quickly enough. What was she supposed to say?
Oh yeah, love of my life who has finally taken notice of me for the first time in years. I was in your brother’s room earlier, banging him senseless.
That wasn’t really the image of herself she wanted to portray.

Jessie was stuck. She didn’t know where to look, let alone what to say to the three men surrounding her. She was in a standoff, and all she could think was that they were all bigger than her. She felt herself begin to shy away, intimidated by their size and their questioning looks. Well, Tom and Charlie were wearing the questioning faces. Jack just looked angry. His hard cold eyes bored right through her.

Really, she should be angry at him. It was him who’d just dropped her right in it. He didn’t have to say she’d left her fascinator in his room, now did he? Not very chivalrous of him at all. All he’d had to do was say he’d found this lying around and ask if it belonged to her. That would have been a much better way of dealing with things. Much more discreet. Then Tom would just be drunk and she wouldn’t have to explain to Charlie why she’d been in his brother’s room.

‘Thanks for bringing it back for me,’ Jessie said awkwardly. ‘Are you feeling better now?’ she added, imploring him with her eyes to play along whilst he continued to eyeball her.

‘Not really,’ he replied tersely.

‘Probably something you ate,’ Jessie ran with, hoping Tom and, more importantly, Charlie were buying her Florence Nightingale fib. ‘I’m sorry I shipped out on you like that before. I just can’t stand to be around vomiting people,’ she explained, pulling a disgusted face. ‘Keep your fluids up and get some rest,’ Nurse Jessie prescribed. Jack just continued staring at her like she’d fallen out of her tree.

‘That’s so nice of you, Jessie. Thanks for taking care of my little brother,’ Charlie beamed at her, putting a protective arm around Jack. Jack didn’t exactly shrug him off, but he didn’t look overly comfortable either. Seeing them standing so close together, it occurred to Jessie how similar the brothers looked. Same nose and the set of the eyes. Same athletic build. The only real difference was their colouring. Charlie was fairer in terms of hair and eye colour than Jack, who was altogether darker. There was also something more unkempt and altogether wilder about the overall appearance and demeanor of Jack. Charlie was more polished and, for want of a better word, a little crisper. Looking from brother to brother, Jessie was hard pressed to say which one she found more attractive.

‘Come on Tom, I think it’s time to go. Let’s see if we can get a taxi organised, then we can go say bye to Natalie,’ Jessie said, deciding on an exit-slash-escape strategy.

‘And Nick,’ chimed in Tom, as Jessie hooked one of his arms over her shoulders.

‘I hope you feel better soon,’ Jessie said to Jack, giving him a strained smile as his stare manifested into a glare. ‘See you at work, Charlie,’ she said, awarding Charlie a warm smile which he reciprocated somewhat goofily. God, he must be hammered, Jessie thought to herself.

‘Night all,’ Tom slurred as Jessie led him away.

They’d gone about five metres before Jessie heard her name being called.

‘You forgot this,’ Jack said as he closed the distance between them. Great. Her bloody fascinator. He was holding it out to her and wearing an unreadable expression.

‘Thanks,’ she replied with a thin smile as she went to grab the damn thing. Jack snatched it out of her reach quickly, and simultaneously closed the distance between them completely—invading her personal space and gently placing her fascinator back on her head. It felt intimate. And made more so by the fact that Jack’s brown eyes never left hers as his fingers seemed to linger longer than necessary in her hair. Feeling breathless, Jessie gave him a shy smile, re-grabbed Tom and walked away.

She’d gotten away with it. Just. By the skin of her teeth. Tom hadn’t looked a hundred percent convinced, but thankfully he was too drunk to be objective about much, and he would hopefully have forgotten all about the fascinator drama by the morning. And Charlie had seemed to buy her full-of-holes explanation. It was Jack who was the unknown player here. Would he keep his trap shut? Or did he have the kind of relationship with his brother where they told each other everything? Jessie hoped for the former.

Chapter 15

Jack didn’t know what to think. Which was most unlike him. He’d been thinking a lot, and yet he still didn’t know how he felt. He’d felt so angry at the wedding. He’d felt hurt, and used, and he’d wanted to shout and scream at Jessie and essentially call her a bitch to her face. Over the course of the following week, Jack still wasn’t a happy bunny about recent events. Although he didn’t understand her motives, he was beginning to see that her crimes were not actually so very great, in the grand scheme of things. If a man had been in her shoes, no one would have batted an eyelid. Damn it, if
he’d
been in her shoes he would probably have behaved the same way and thought nothing of it. Treating women as inconsequential—getting what he could, when he could—was generally how he rolled. Or at least how he used to roll.

Despite his best efforts not to, Jack found himself thinking about the green goddess more and more often. It didn’t help that he was staying with his brother, whose flat was littered with reports and documents bearing Jessie’s name and contributions. It was the same story whenever Jack caught a glance of Charlie’s laptop around the place. All he saw was a steady stream of emails from a certain Jessie Slaymaker. She was becoming a hard woman to forget.

His relationship with his brother, whilst not being on solid bedrock, seemed to be gradually improving. Jack had studied his brother closely and from what he could tell, he was working hard, but not near the breaking point as their mother had led him to believe. Jack had seen no evidence of his brother abusing drugs or alcohol, and he hardly talked about women at all.

By contrast, it was Jack who was approaching breaking point as he found himself dying to ask his brother for details about Jessie, but forced himself to contain his curiosity. She obviously hadn’t wanted anyone to know she’d slept with him, and he thought it best to keep mum on the subject, however hard that was for him to do. Having initially been intent on outing her at the wedding, he’d since then felt some sort of gentlemanly duty to protect Jessie’s reputation; and so thought it best not to bring her up at all, so as not to arouse any unnecessary suspicions.

Of course, his brother was so engrossed in his work that it would have been difficult to arouse his suspicions without shouting it from the rooftops. But even so, Jack felt uncomfortable bringing up the subject of Jessie with him. Particularly because she obviously had a hell of a crush on Charlie. Better to leave well enough alone, Jack thought.

Two weeks after the wedding, he was still in the same situation—only worse. Charlie was now so busy he was fielding calls at all hours of the day. Jack would be eating breakfast, or watching TV, or doing the dishes, and Charlie’s phone would buzz and then he’d say, ‘Hello, Jessie’. Jack felt trapped. As if everywhere he turned, she was there. Like he couldn’t go forward without seeing her again. He simply had to see her again. To say what to her exactly, he wasn’t quite sure. But he knew it would come. He hoped it would come, anyway.

Chapter 16

Jessie had had one of the busiest fortnights of her professional life. She’d been literally inundated with report requests to write, data analysis to study and interpret, new projects to get off the ground, and some serious deadlines to meet. She’d even followed through on her mental note from the wedding, offering even more of her assistance to Charlie, who’d taken her up on her offer and was throwing ad hoc tasks at her left, right and centre. To put it mildly, she was swamped.

Jessie had been so busy she hadn’t even been able to properly collect her thoughts and reflect on the events of Natalie’s wedding. Of course, she’d managed to find a moment to reminisce about Charlie dancing with her, but not too much else from that momentous day. Unfortunately, Charlie hadn’t made any mention to her of what she thought of as the ‘dancing episode’, and Jessie assumed this was merely on account of the heavy workloads they were both under. But she knew she hadn’t been imagining the connection between them, and she was confident that all she had to do was bide her time, wait for work pressures to subside, and Charlie would be sure to ask her out on a real date when he was ready.

It was six o’clock on a Saturday evening, and Jessie had pretty much worked all day from home on a quarterly review of emerging economies. She permitted herself the luxury of stopping work for the evening and treating herself to a glass of red wine while she watched a bit of banal Saturday night television to relax. She felt lousy. Her back ached, she felt like she might be getting a cold, and her hair needed washing. She was exhausted from the long working hours and fatigued from a lack of exercise, good food and social contact. She hadn’t had time to phone Tom or her other friends, let alone meet up for a drink.