 
# **Contents**

Title Page

Copyright

Title

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

Excerpt: Big Sweet Love

Excerpt: Hate to Love

Bio

Second Time You

by S.G. Lovell

This e-book is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 Sandra Ghorbani

Cover Image Copyright © Gts used under license from Shutterstock.com; Andrey Kiselev used under license from stock.adobe.com

Cover Image Design © Sandra Ghorbani

Editing by: Kristin Anders 'The Romantic Editor'

First published in Linz, Austria in 2014 by Sandra Ghorbani under the title 'Bare Beginner'.

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

Warning:

This e-book is intended for adult readers, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. The author makes no representations that her titles are appropriate or available for use in their locations. Those who access or read the author's titles do so at their own volition and are responsible for compliance with local law.

ASIN: B00N4E5L3U

www.sglovell.com

Second Time You

by S.G. Lovell

# **Chapter 1**

This was what she wanted.

Lexa stared at the dark-haired woman undulating her body against the pole in the darkened _Showroom_ of Crystal's pole studio located off a busy shopping street in New York City, her eyes closed in sensuous abandon.

Allure. Beauty. Confidence. This woman possessed the ABC of sexiness.

Something Lexa had always hoped would prove rather insignificant compared to, say, brains, until her eighteen-year-old bombshell cousin, Jenny, had marched a new boyfriend – a Hollywood A-lister lookalike with a heart and wallet of gold – into her parents' house for Christmas dinner, two months ago.

_The full package_ , Aunt Celia had whispered awestruck at the end of the evening, the direction of her gaze speaking louder than her words.

Even the men in the family had approved of the poor soul, after grilling him for hours.

Lexa had felt sorry for the guy and she had felt sorry for herself. Because at twenty-two she hadn't even come close to fondling a _full package_ , much less enjoyed the package as intended.

Sure, she'd shared a few kisses, had even managed to get groped in the backseat of a car – an experience she didn't intend to repeat. Ever. Yet she still had to go the full length, so to speak.

Her roommate and best friend, Molly, ascribed Lexa's lack of luck with men to the 'sensible' vibe she exuded 'like perfume'. In Molly's elaborate opinion, _sensible_ was a close second to _boring_ , and both character traits cock-blocked even the most daring specimen of the male population.

For Lexa, Molly saying 'cock-blocked' without blushing proved that Molly had experience with matters south of the belt-line and was probably speaking the truth.

But even if Lexa hadn't believed in the Molly-ism, the dancer now dangling head-first from the top of the pole seemed to support the theory that attitude was more important than looks or wardrobe. Although attractive, the woman was by no means a stunner. Nor could her simple black outfit and bare feet hold a candle to the sparkling hot pants and six inch stripper heels of the other senior pole-students showing off their skill during the late evening open house show at Crystal's. Still, the audience was spellbound.

Lexa was endlessly grateful for the knowledge.

Plastic surgery wasn't something she wanted to consider and her meager monetary reserves didn't extend to 'barely there' scraps of fabric.

She could, however, afford the course fee for an eight-week _Beginners_ class here at the studio, if she was willing to forgo her daily Belgian waffles for at least a month.

Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, Lexa watched the woman's navel piercing gleam dully in the soft-pink light, as she swung higher into the air, her legs releasing the metal rod, back arching in an upside down move that defied gravity and had the audience grabbing the edge of their seats.

If this was the end result, Lexa would probably have someone buying waffles _for_ her.

The woman finally sank to the floor, her head bent gracefully towards her shoulder as the last few notes sounding from the stereo system's speakers in the corner echoed through the dimly lit room.

Applause and shouts erupted, as the audience rose from their seats in excitement.

The woman gave a brief, impersonal smile before venturing off to the side to vacate the stage for the next dancer, a chubby blonde with a sparkle in her eyes.

Gaze still lingering on the dark-haired woman who had retreated towards a gathering of clothes and bags at the back of the room, Lexa watched her slip back into the wrinkle-free white blouse and navy blue pencil skirt she had arrived in earlier. The woman's careless shrug into the corresponding suit jacket completed the transformation from sexy dancer to attractive business woman and was one more bullet point on the pro side of Lexa's mental list.

Pole dancing and a professional career outside a strip club were not mutually exclusive.

Pole dancing and ongoing health, on the other hand, was a much trickier combination. The blonde, who had taken the stage, dove head-first down the pole at break-neck speed.

Lexa's fear must have shown on her face, because the female host of the evening chose that moment to walk her tiny black spandex ensemble over to her.

"Don't worry," she said, a smile curving her ruby red lips. "Sophie has been a student in our _Advanced_ class for the last year and a half. Beginners kick off with really easy moves. Our new term starts next week. You can sign up and pay at reception if you're up for it. You'll have to be quick, though. I think we have only one spot left."

Nodding her thanks, Lexa cursed the carrying voice of the host when Barbie Doll from the fifth row grabbed her gigantuan designer bag complete with yapping Chihuahua, and started towards the door.

Bumping knees and whispering apologies, Lexa made it to reception first. Her sensible sneakers had given her the seconds' advantage.

A ginger-haired girl standing behind the reception desk looked up as Lexa approached, her jaw rotating lazily in the fashion of a seasoned gum-chewing addict.

"I'd like to sign up for the new term _Beginners_ class, please."

"Sure thing." The girl popped a bubble and beamed at Lexa, exposing a row of pearly whites caged by the stainless steel of fixed braces.

Lexa tried not to stare. Even harboring half of the country's metal supply in her mouth, the girl lacked no self-esteem. Her grin seemed to widen as she brought up the schedule on the flat-screen computer in front of her.

Lexa ran the tip of her tongue over the inside of her lips where her own braces had cut into the soft tissue four years ago. Maybe Big Billie Joe wouldn't have laughed at Lexa when she asked him out for prom if she had been a little less self-conscious and a little more like the bundle of energy she was currently talking to. Maybe then Lexa wouldn't have cried for hours when, after a game of spin-the-bottle, Big Billie Joe's best friend had told her that kissing her was like licking a bunch of railroad tracks.

Lexa shook herself to get rid of the unwelcome blast from the past and focused back on the girl in front of her. It had to be the atmosphere here at Crystal's that had everyone brimming with aplomb. Lexa decided, more determined than ever, that she was going to immerse herself in it until it rubbed off on her.

"How did you hear about us?" Braces asked at that moment.

"There was a brief coverage of the studio on The Celebrity news two nights ago." It had introduced pole dancing as the hip thing to do. Gyms were out. Running was yesterday. Swinging from a metal rod was the newest fashion.

Not someone to jump on the bandwagon normally, something about the sport had appealed to Lexa. It was...different. Unconventional. It was perfect for someone who had learned that 'ordinary' failed to live up to expectations time and time again.

Braces bobbed her head in satisfaction. "Oh yes. We shot that about a month ago. Crystal will be pleased to hear that the marketing strategy is working." She gave a decisive click with her finger on the mouse. "You're lucky, too. I have one spot left in the seven o'clock class on Thursdays. Shall I book you in?"

Barbie Doll behind Lexa sniffed loudly in affront. Lexa ignored the bad-tempered blonde. "That should work. Can I pay by card?"

"Sure can," Braces said.

Lexa felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. She was really going to do this.

She could just imagine what her parents would say.

They'd probably make the two-thousand miles trip from Salt Lake to New York just to give her a lecture.

At least they could no longer check her spending habits now that she was self-financing her life.

Lexa bit her lip as she, once again, thought of the quickly disappearing amount of credit in her bank account. The money had been compensation for injuries she had suffered during a violent attack nearly four years ago. The payout had been laughable compared to the physical and emotional pain she had had to go through, recovering from the two jagged scars on her cheek. Just when her braces were being removed and Lexa thought she may finally have a shot at making a good impression on the male population, fate had decided differently.

Lexa huffed a sigh. At least the money had given her some freedom. Only now, the savings were running low. She needed to get a job and soon. Otherwise she would have to go back to using her parents' money and that was the one thing she refused to do. It had been a major achievement to finally convince them that she needed to become financially independent. Not that they had really understood the need. Her mother had fought the request tooth and nail until Lexa's father had pointed out that upsetting their emotionally fragile daughter was probably not the best of ideas.

His comment had its desired effect. Lexa's mother backed off immediately, even while Lexa had barely kept from cringing. She wished they would finally stop their coddling.

She loved her parents. She truly did. On her good days she could even understand their overprotectiveness. They had all suffered after the attack. Still, at twenty-two Lexa needed some space. And that meant more than physical distance. She needed to make her own decisions. She needed to break out of her safety routine. Most of all, she needed to stop being her parents' little girl and start being a woman if she really wanted to one day have her own hot date for Christmas dinner. Even if embracing her sexuality meant flouncing half naked around a stripper prop. It was all for a good cause. The Rescue Lexa Foundation.

Determined to go through with this idea, morals be damned, Lexa handed her credit card over to Braces.

***

"I want my whiskey neat."

Jack Daniels lifted his gaze and studied his newest client over the width of the restaurant table, keeping his expression carefully bland.

Thirty-three, beach blonde and with a body that at least half of the office at Corporate Calls would die for to touch, he didn't doubt Mrs. Marie-Lou Garnett was used to getting what she wanted. Like this lunch meeting in the romantic pizzeria around the corner instead of the cool conference rooms back at his office.

He also didn't doubt that there was at least one thing Marie-Lou wanted that she wouldn't get. Jack Daniels. Neat or otherwise.

Ignoring Marie-Lou's eyes lingering on his suit instead of the whiskey she was complaining about, Jack waited until the waiter, a middle-aged man, had apologized profusely to Marie-Lou's cleavage and swept the drink on the rocks away to get a fresh one according to order, before meeting his client's gaze. "Mrs. Garnett—"

"Marie-Lou, Jack. Please." She batted her darker-than-midnight lashes one time too many. "After all, we're about to get much better acquainted."

_Acquainted_ was what Jack was worried about. He sighed surreptitiously, wondering for the hundredth time since seeing Marie-Lou Garnett sashaying into the restaurant what had ridden him to say 'yes' when his brother Michael had asked Jack to take over the kick-off meeting for the _Dancing Bear_ project. _Ambition_ , Jack reminded himself _._ The devil that had gotten him his PhD two years before everyone else. Unfortunately, ambition could sometimes be a bitch. And in this case her name was..."Marie-Lou, your husband wasn't quite clear on the project requirements when he called earlier this morning."

"Teddy," Marie-Lou laughed. A guttural sound that Jack found as appealing as he would the scrape of her sharp, red-tipped nails across a chalk-board. "He isn't very good at explaining things, I'm afraid."

Jack begged to disagree. He thought Theodore 'Teddy' Garnett – one of the richest media moguls in the United States and main sponsor of _The Great American Dance Off_ – had managed to explain the most important thing in seconds. His trophy wife's happiness was the ticket to securing Corporate Calls's financial future within a year of its inception. Treating her right – or wrong, Jack wondered – would ensure their ongoing cooperation with the biggest franchise of dancing shows for years to come.

Recognizing a cash bear when he saw one, Michael – as the older brother and senior partner of the company – had decided that this meeting was too important to be led by one of their two managers. Tied up himself, he had thrown Jack to the pussy-cat.

Jack suppressed a wince. The nickname mentioned by Teddy on the phone still had the power to make him cringe, especially as _pussy-cat_ had turned into a cougar the minute Mr. Garnett dropped her off and left the building for another meeting. Of course, only after dutifully carrying Mary-Lou's project bag into the restaurant.

Jack wondered if this was karma. The chance he had pounced on so eagerly to show his brother that he was worthy of the junior partner position he'd received six months ago, was now pouncing on him in return.

He had never considered himself easy prey, but Mary-Lou took the term 'on the prowl' to a whole new level.

Jack resisted the urge to drag a weary hand over his face and focused on re-routing Mary-Lou's seduction attempts to project planning. Something that seemed more and more impossible by the second.

"Maybe you can shed some light on what it is exactly you're looking for?" he prompted her, feeling his gut tightening with dread when the comment brought a sensual smile to Mary-Lou's perfectly painted lips.

"I can most certainly do that, Jack," she purred, her gaze still fastened on his body, as if what she was looking for was indeed what she was looking at.

Jack swallowed another sigh. The woman was a lost cause.

As if to prove him right, Mary-Lou seductively fluttered her lashes once more, arching one eyebrow in expectation.

Jack looked back at her with stoic calm.

He could tell the exact moment she realized he wasn't going to take her up on her silent offer. Her smile turned forced around the edges before she slid smoothly into the professional persona that everyone knew from their late-night TV screen. To regroup, Jack was certain. Cougars didn't know how to yield.

" _The Great American Dance Off,_ or TGADO as our viewers like to call it, is looking to catch up with the rest of the planet." She was all business – for now. Mary-Lou extracted a binder out of the project bag and, in a move that Jack believed was so ingrained it had become unconscious, tilted her head until her wavy hair spilled over her shoulder and curled into her cleavage.

Jack kept his gaze fixated on her face.

Mary-Lou tapped the first page of the binder, where a bar chart displayed the number of participants on the show.

"Set up as a dance-off between individuals, the show features a knock-out system. The competitors are divided into pairs and fight for survival against their partner. The winner of each duel progresses to the next round, the loser leaves the show as soon as the votes are in. The prize money and a contract with one of the biggest dance studios in New York attracts hundreds of people to audition every year. As per our rules, only individuals with an online following of at least one thousand fans are entitled to enter the competition. Just last fall, we've worked with OnComm to upgrade the way we determine the eligibility of new applicants."

At the mention of their biggest competitor, Jack perked up. Much bigger than Corporate Calls, OnComm had been around for years, but was slowly losing its market share.

"What happened?" Jack asked, trying to glean where their rival had messed up so they could avoid making the same mistake.

Mary-Lou waved a dismissive hand in the air. "The attendance they gave to the project was sub-standard."

Or was it the lack of attendance they gave to the project liaison, Jack wondered, hoping he would never have to actually find out.

"In any case," Mary-Lou continued, clearly eager to move on, "we have terminated our contract with them, but are now left in a lurch for the second phase of the project."

"Which includes?"

"The live-show voting." Mary-Lou turned the page on the binder to show him another chart. "We're still running an old-fashioned call center, when barely anyone wants to take the time or spend the money involved in picking up a phone. We're planning for a new getup. An app to vote on mobile devices. A website with a voting feature. We hoped you could design both and the backend software with it, in a way that allows the results to be displayed in real time. The instant decision will cater to our viewers' appetite for immediacy. I know that Corporate Calls is focusing on application and software development, not websites, but Michael promised you are well versed in both areas." She held out the binder for Jack to take. "Our specifications are in the back."

Jack stretched out his hand to grab the thin binder and felt Mary-Lou's claws rake over his skin. He did a quick double take to see if the contact had been intentional, but Mary-Lou's professional persona stayed firmly in place.

Choosing to ignore the contact, Jack flicked through the pages.

"How much has your previous project partner done to develop this idea?"

He set the binder on the table next to him. He and Michael would go through the documents in detail later. Even if Michael took over the project lead role, he always tried to include Jack in the decision making process. Jack had a feeling his brother was nudging him slowly in the direction of independently overseeing his own projects. Something Jack had managed to dodge for too long, considering his new position in the company.

But all of that was secondary at the moment. Right now, it was important for Jack to wrap up this meeting successfully and show his brother that it had been worth giving up his own dream of a university degree to pay for Jack's education.

At the same time, he needed to find out how deeply involved Mary-Lou had been in the initial project development and how much she wanted to be involved going forward.

All the way it seemed, Jack thought when Mary-Lou gave him a detailed run-down of the few points OnComm had dealt with in the second project phase.

"However," she said, resolutely dismissing OnComm's work, "we're looking to start over completely new. I wasn't happy with the original ideas and would like to see where your imagination takes us." She waited a beat until it was clear he couldn't have missed the double-entendre. "I do assume you'll be my liaison?"

Jack cringed when he saw Mary-Lou's eyes light up at the possibility. He had been right. Her earlier defeat had been merely a retreat, to better gather momentum before she tried again. "The final decision has yet to be made." He had no intention to be _her_ anything. Jack was keen on proving his worth to his brother, but he'd prefer it was not at the expense of his dignity. "In any case, the day-to-day development of the application will rest with our very capable development team."

"I see." Mary-Lou tapped a slender finger thoughtfully against the tabletop. "I will have a conversation with your brother regarding who I deem to be the best project lead for this project."

Which meant, unless she had the hots for Michael, too, Jack was going to be fucked.

At the thought, his manly bits tucked closer to his body in sheer self-preservation.

He was in for a long two months.

***

"You owe me," Jack told Michael an hour later, in the privacy of their shared office.

"Wouldn't that be: _you_ owe _me_?" Michael asked dryly, taking in the red smudge on his brother's cheek.

Jack simply gave him an incredulous look. "You cannot honestly believe I would thank you for this opportunity. Christ, Michael. She's a man-eater. And married. And at least five years older than me."

Michael shrugged. "She also looks like every man's wet dream. What's wrong with you, Jack? Don't fancy being a toy boy? The title's very popular this year."

Jack shook his head. "Do you _want_ Teddy to shut down our business?"

Michael barely smothered a grin. "Don't be melodramatic now. I know you would never get it on with a wife. But maybe she can at least fuel some of your fantasies? You've been worryingly uninterested in chasing women for much too long now. I was trying to do you a favor here."

"Don't bother," Jack grumbled. "If she's in my dreams then only my nightmares."

That made Michael laugh out loud. He had made close acquaintance with Mary-Lou's unshakable belief in her own irresistibility during the tender process for the _Dancing Bear_ project. "You're too picky, brother. I found her advances most entertaining." Entertaining and repulsive. But he kept that part to himself.

Mary-Lou might be stunning, and if she had been single Michael may have entertained the idea of taking what she offered, but he drew the line at marriage. In his opinion, no married woman should go out advertising their body the way Mary-Lou did. Nor should any man, for that fact. Thankfully, Michael could be a master at civility, when the stakes were important enough. He doubted Mary-Lou had noticed any of his disdain. If the binder Jack was putting on the desk was any indication, his brother possessed a similar talent.

Michael felt almost sorry for having put Jack through the experience – as sorry as he had been as a kid, pushing his brother into the icy water of the stream behind their parents' house, watching him from the riverbank like a hawk ready to swoop to the rescue. Back then he had wanted Jack to learn how to swim, after reading about a boy who had drowned in the neighborhood. He was doing the same again, now. Most people would call his methods unconventional. But nobody could argue they weren't effective.

Jack rubbed the back of his neck with a weary hand. "How did you get rid of her?" he asked, sounding desperate.

Michael gave a nonchalant shrug. "I found her someone else to lust after."

"Who?"

"You."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Thanks, pal."

Michael laughed. "What do you want for your services rendered?"

"Please." Jack winced. "Don't mention services rendered when talking about Mary-Lou."

"Mary-Lou, huh?" Michael interjected. "We never got past the _Mrs. Garnett_ stage. I trust the meeting went well?"

That earned him another black stare.

Michael chuckled.

"I've sent you an email," Jack finally said.

Michael opened the attachment with a click on the file. "Alexandra Harrington. Who's she?"

"My payment for services rendered." Jack groaned, when he realized how that had just sounded. "A girl from university. A friend," he added when Michael just cocked a brow.

"You've finished studying three years ago. And she looks like a woman to me." Michael studied the headshot attached to the CV. The young woman was pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way, with her soft features and brown-ish hair. She smiled openly into the camera, but there was a vulnerability in her blue eyes.

Too young. Too troubled for Michael's taste. He looked back at his brother and found Jack staring at the picture with an odd look on his face.

The girl was obviously more than a friend. Although, how much more Michael didn't dare guess.

He rubbed his chin with one hand, realizing distantly that his five o'clock shadow had made an early appearance.

If the girl was important enough for his brother to send her CV to Michael there was a story Michael needed to know.

Jack's graduation had been the trigger for Michael, who was seven years older, to try and set up his own business. It had taken two years before they had the money and the knowledge necessary. Two years that Jack had used well, gaining experience in a global software company. When they had finally opened the doors of Corporate Calls they had been well prepared and – contrary to the fear of many of their friends – had gotten off to a brilliant start. Michael thanked his good fortunes every day that he didn't have to worry about the company going bust, but a financial and social boost from Theodore Garnett would catapult them from a small start-up company straight into specialized boutique stratosphere. Something he was going to make damned sure would happen within the next two months.

This company, as far as Michael was concerned, was their future retirement plan. He was putting eighty plus hour weeks in every week to make sure the company was a success. As the first born, it had become his responsibility to secure his family's financial future when his father became permanently unable to work at the age of fifty.

Michael hadn't even thought twice about giving up his own university degree to pay for his three younger siblings' education and their success was the only payback he ever needed.

Since then, he hadn't allowed himself to slack. He couldn't. Especially not now, when no amount of sugarcoating could conceal the fact that their beloved parents were getting older and would eventually need someone to look after them in the big, old house they so cherished. The fact that they kept complaining about wanting to have grandchildren more than they wanted to have money didn't faze Michael. He didn't have time for marriage at this point. Something that, for him, was an unsurmountable stepping stone on the way to having kids. At some point, yes. But it wouldn't be a head over heels in love decision. Michael had enough experience to know that love didn't last. No, what he wanted was a partner. Someone he shared mutual goals with. Someone who wouldn't complain when he had to work late or wasn't around too often. He needed someone who was happy with the money he could provide and in return would know how to be a successful businessman's wife and a mother. Elegant, serene and confident in every social situation. Someone like Mary-Lou, but without the need to find sexual release with someone other than her husband. Once Michael married, he would be the only one providing that type of satisfaction. But that was far in the future. In the meantime it would have to be Jack who took care of the grandchildren part, while Michael focused on keeping them living in comfort. Which was why he was particularly interested in this email his brother had sent.

"She started her Bachelor's when I finished my PhD," Jack said at that moment. "She's now looking for an internship."

"We don't do internships." As Jack well knew. Just as Michael knew he would end up inventing one for his twenty-people-sized company by the morning. For some reason his brother thought this girl was special. And if there was one thing even more important to Michael than the company, it was the happiness of his family.

As far as Michael was concerned, an older brother had the right to nudge fate along a little when his perfectly healthy and – so Michael was told – rather attractive younger brother didn't seem to have any relationships worth talking about in more than three years.

He studied the girl again, wondering if she was the one who would finally fulfill Jack's private life the way Corporate Calls seemed to fulfill his professional one. If there was even the slightest possibility, then the next few weeks at Corporate Calls were going to become very interesting indeed.

"We don't do website development either," Jack answered.

Michael grinned at his brother's biting – and accurate – comeback. Just like all Daniels, he appreciated a good argument.

"Her CV looks impressive enough." He leaned back to study Jack. "I'll give her the internship if you take over the _Dancing Bear_ project. Lead, day-to-day management, and liaison."

He had made the decision the night before and it had been one of the reasons why he had sent Jack to the kick-off meeting. It had been the truth that he was tied up with other meetings, but Michael was the company owner, at the end of the day. As such, he could have easily rescheduled. Especially for an important client like the Garnetts. He hadn't wanted to, though. Because his brother was finally ready to navigate the deep end without supervision. _If_ he was willing to take on the challenge.

Usually Jack preferred technically complex, non-managerial roles. Michael knew this was because Jack was worried about letting Michael down. About proving unworthy of the sacrifices Michael had made for the family and for Jack.

Michael figured he could tell Jack that he was worrying without cause. Or he could give Jack a project to manage and let him prove the same to himself.

Unfortunately, Michael had a feeling that Mary-Lou had left a less than stellar impression on his younger brother, so he figured a bit of extra incentive wouldn't be amiss. He just hoped Jack wouldn't call his bluff. Even if Jack wouldn't work with Mary-Lou, Michael had a vested interest in offering the internship anyway.

One day, Michael was certain, Jack would thank him for the opportunity. Just like Michael thanked Jack every day for making the most of the chance Michael had already given him and finished his studies. Because when push came to shove, their clients were snobs, drawn by the fancy letters after Jack's name, not the close to fifteen years of hard work under Michael's belt.

Jack rolled his eyes, and Michael felt a grin tugging at his lips, knowing he had won.

"Sometimes it sucks that you're the boss."

# **Chapter 2**

"Oh my god." Molly pressed her hand to her heart. "I thought you were dying."

Lexa squealed again. "I got the job."

"Didn't I tell you?" Molly beamed at her, taking the wad of paper out of her hands. "That's the contract? Seems kind of excessive for a two month internship. Even if it's a paid one." She flipped through the pages and pages of legal terms.

Lexa snatched the document back from Molly's grasp. "It's a standardized work agreement. It's always this long."

"Alright, alright." Molly backed off with a laugh. "So Jack has come through?"

"He has." Lexa bit her lip. "Thank you so much for sending him my application."

Molly grinned. "Oh, now you're thanking me? My ears are still ringing from the lecture you gave me, uh, when was it? Not a week ago."

"You impersonated me and used my email account without my knowledge," Lexa defended her _slight_ overreaction upon discovering what her roommate had done. "So much for a lawyer's integrity. I should never have given you my password."

"Lawyer to be. And I got you an internship at the company of your dreams. If anything you should be worshipping me on your knees. You wouldn't have done it on your own. Admit it."

Lexa absentmindedly ran her fingers over her scars.

Molly was right. Lexa would never have had the guts to approach the one person who was her personal hero since he had saved her from the attack. But admitting it? No way. "I haven't seen him for almost three years." Ever since he finished his PhD and moved out of their neighboring apartment.

It wasn't the greatest excuse for not going after the job herself, but it was the only defense she had, unless she wanted to tell Molly that she had been too afraid of a rejection from Jack – knight in shining armor and Lexa's secret long time crush.

Lexa didn't think she would have been able to stomach a rejection from him. Not even a professional one. Not when his long ago offer to contact him on his email address still had the power to set her heart aflutter.

It probably had meant nothing to him, but to Lexa it was the first time ever that a man had shown an interest in keeping their communication channels open. She couldn't imagine jeopardizing this once-in-a-lifetime promise of an electronic conversation by actually taking him up on the offer.

"He obviously hasn't forgotten you." Molly waggled her eyebrows.

Lexa winced. "Molly." Her voice sounded pained. "It's not like that." At least it wasn't for _him_. She had said it a hundred times before. Did Molly listen? Of course she didn't. When Molly got something stuck in her head it was almost impossible to get it back out. No matter how flawless the arguments one had. And Lexa had at least three pretty flawless arguments.

She had seen – and heard – Jack's girlfriends a number of times during their one year of residing on campus together. To say they were lookers – and screamers – was like saying the sky was kind of big. They outclassed Lexa by a long shot. Unfortunately they had also always been nice to her and Molly, which made it so much more difficult to hate them.

Why Lexa should be foolish enough to hate them in the first place was something she wasn't ready to examine.

Thankfully Molly's curiosity had impeccable timing. "So are you going to work with him?"

"Jack? No, I don't think so. I'll probably report to his brother Michael. He's the senior partner of the company. Oh my god, I'm so excited."

"You did great Lexa."

"I didn't do anything. You did it all."

Molly waved her off. "I just hacked your computer. It was the skills on your CV that swayed them." She took a careful step back. "Or maybe it was the lingerie picture I took during our last shopping trip."

Lexa's jaw dropped. "You didn't."

Molly nodded vehemently. "I did take the picture. Can't you remember? You even posed for me."

"Molly Rogers, tell me right now that you did not attach that picture to my CV and send it to Jack." The photo had been awful, even if Molly had insisted it was not. Never mind the fact that Lexa had also been _half-naked_ at the time. Oh god, she was probably going to die of embarrassment the first time she saw Jack in the office. "Molly!"

"Okay, okay," Molly laughed. "I didn't send the picture." She took another step back. "Although I may have told Jack that you're..." She fluttered her hand at Lexa.

Lexa gasped. "You told him I'm a virgin?" Maybe it would be _Molly_ who was going to die, after all.

"No way." Molly scoffed. "I told him you're _single_ , Stupid. Hey, it only seemed natural."

"It seemed natural to tell my future boss that I don't have a boyfriend?"

"Your future boss? You just said you'll report to Michael. Are you changing your story now?"

"What? No. But Jack is a partner of the company, too."

"Good. So he's financially stable. You'd want that."

Lexa gritted her teeth. "Did you make up the story about the picture so I wouldn't be angry that you _only_ told him I'm single?"

"Did it work?"

"No."

Molly fluttered her lashes.

" _No_. I'm still mad at you."

"No, you're not."

Lexa blew out a breath. "No, I'm not. Damn, I must be a masochist to keep living with a pain in the butt like you."

"I love you too, Lexa. Especially when you storm into my room half-naked. Makes me almost regret that I don't do girls." Molly hummed, then narrowed her eyes. "Why _are_ you wearing hot pants in the middle of winter?"

"Spring."

"Early spring and don't distract from the subject."

Lexa squirmed uncomfortably. "I've signed up for a pole dance class."

Lexa thought it was the first time she had ever seen Molly's mouth hanging open. "When?"

"Last week."

"And you're telling me now?"

"There wasn't a good ti—"

Molly clucked her tongue and folded her arms in front of her chest. "You've been holding out on me again. Don't even try to deny it." She threw her hands up in the air. "See, I _have to_ hack your email account from time to time, otherwise I'd never know what's going on in your life."

"Ever thought of asking me?"

Molly shook her head. "I tried. You're like all these other computer geeks. Their whole life is practically online and if you put a question to them, whatever comes out of their mouth is impossible to decipher." She suddenly stopped her rambling speech. "Do you have an online boyfriend?"

"How do you...Why do you jump topics like that?"

"Because I just realized you may be geeky enough to actually be into this cyber-love thing. And I told Jack that you're single, but if you're not..." She left the supposedly self-explanatory sentence hanging half-finished in the air. "So do you?"

"No. I don't."

That put a huge smile on Molly's face.

Lexa shook her head. "I'm not going to become Jack's girlfriend. He's not interested."

"Ha. We'll see about that. And just to forestall any arguments. I _will_ hack into your computer again to see if you're lying to me."

Lexa blew out a breath and refused to comment. Privacy was the one thing Molly didn't understand.

***

Half an hour later, Lexa pulled on her sneakers to head to her first pole class when her cellphone rang in her pocket.

"Lexa darling. How's my baby-girl doing?" Her mother's voice drifted over the speaker and Lexa cursed herself for not looking at her phone screen before she answered the call. She didn't have the time or the patience to talk with her mother right now. She was nervous enough as it was.

Stepping into the hallway, she briefly considered faking a bad connection, but whatever their issues – and there were many since Lexa had started to realize that her parents couldn't deal with her growing need for independence – Lexa didn't feel comfortable outright lying. Her parents had always been there for her. Had always loved their socially slightly awkward daughter. Even when their love sometimes felt more like a smothering blanket than a warm hug. It wasn't their fault that they couldn't cope with their only child growing up and leaving the nest. Just as it wasn't Lexa's fault that their constant meddling had ratcheted up since she became part of a statistic and they were slowly driving her out of her mind.

They meant well, she reminded herself, as she always did. _They meant well. They meant well. They meant..._ "Mother," she said, wishing the place had an elevator so she could genuinely lose connection on her way to the ground floor and out. Unfortunately, the old building only featured a slightly echoing stairway with perfectly acceptable phone reception. "I'm doing fine. How're you and dad?"

"We're missing you, Alexandra darling. Without you the house always feels too empty. When are you coming home?"

It was how all their conversations started and ended. For the last nearly four years her mother had been asking the same question.

Lexa exhaled a measured breath. If only she had the strength to tell them that she had no intention of coming back. Even after she finished her studies, she was going to stay right here where she was. New York was her home now. She had her friends here. She had a life. Most importantly, she didn't have her parents hovering over her twenty-four seven.

But telling them that would certainly shatter their hearts. And Lexa knew what it felt like to be rejected. To feel unloved. She wouldn't be able to live with herself knowing she had inflicted that kind of pain on her parents.

"I have another six months until graduation."

"You need to think about packing then."

"I have time," Lexa evaded, determined to keep the blow that she wasn't coming back to Salt Lake to herself for just a little bit longer. Maybe another three weeks would make a difference. Maybe then her mother wouldn't take it so hard. But hadn't she told herself the same for years?

"I've got a job," she said instead of dwelling too much on the guilt that always accompanied the thought of her independent life. "Don't you want to hear about it?"

"That's fantastic, darling. Of course I do. But what about your studies?"

"Corporate Calls has been very accommodating. They have offered a two month internship, allowing flexible hours around my lectures."

"Corporate Calls," her mother mused. "Isn't that the start-up company that is all over the news at the moment?"

Lexa frowned at the phone. "I haven't seen anything. If they're over the news, it has to be a recent development."

"A new project, I think," her mother said.

"I wouldn't be surprised. Michael is one of the young entrepreneurs that have been awarded for their business acumen this year."

Her mother made a non-committal sound. "Just make sure you don't do too good a job." She chuckled uneasily. "Otherwise they may want to keep you. And we're expecting you home by the end of the year. You're dad says there is this computer store just around the corner from us. Maybe you could get a job there?"

Lexa sighed. "They're selling hardware, mother. I'm developing software." She skipped down the last two steps of the winding stairway and pushed the heavy entrance door open, instantly grateful for the howling wind. "In any case, I doubt Corporate Calls will offer me a permanent position before I have even graduated. From what I hear, their roles are coveted."

"But if they do—" her mother started.

Lexa tilted the microphone of her cell. "It's really gusty here. I can barely hear you. I'll call you back another time. Okay? Say hello to dad for me." She disconnected before her mother could protest and took a deep breath of the crisp night air.

She'd have to have a chat with her parents soon. If she was truly serious about her personality makeover plan, she would have to somehow make them understand that she wasn't their little girl any longer.

But not tonight. Tonight she had already enough on her plate. A thread of anticipation mingled with her nerves as Lexa walked down the street at a rapid pace.

She was finally going to learn to bring the boys to their knees.

***

Lexa rushed up the stairs of Crystal's pole studio, following the deep thump of music that seemed to beat in time with her heart. She worried if she stopped and thought for too long she might just turn around and go home.

She still couldn't believe that she was here. This was the single most daring thing she had done in her entire life. A sad statement for the twenty-two year old that she was.

A text flashed on the face of her phone.

_Don't you dare chicken out in front of the door._

Lexa smiled. Molly truly knew her way too well. Three years her senior, outgoing and fun-loving, Molly was as different from reserved, sensible Lexa, as anyone could be. Yet the two of them had quickly struck up a friendship, despite their opposing personalities, when Lexa had moved into the apartment at the beginning of her undergraduate studies.

Then Molly had supported Lexa after the attack with a combination of pampering and occasional stern lectures, often insisting that the blemishes on Lexa's cheek didn't make her look disfigured, merely mysterious, and would Lexa please get out of bed _right now_ and eat the breakfast Molly had cooked for her before Molly was forced to snatch away the blanket Lexa was hiding under and personally drag Lexa's freezing butt to the table.

The tough love had helped Lexa get back on her feet, and the deal was sealed. Now they were virtually inseparable. And who would have guessed – they balanced each other out like night and day, with Molly pushing Lexa to relax and enjoy her life every once in a while, and Lexa reminding Molly that Molly's professional law degree was the most important thing, when Molly wanted to go out one night too many.

But this – pole – had been Lexa's idea and, although it would have been much easier to ask Molly to sign up as well, there had been two very good reasons why Lexa hadn't involved her roommate in the adventure.

Firstly, Lexa knew that she became little more than a stage prop whenever Molly's 'take-over' attitude was in the room. It wasn't something her friend did on purpose, or even something Molly could consciously 'turn off'. It was just a simple physical law. You couldn't see the moon if you were blinded by the sun.

Secondly, pole dancing just wasn't Molly's style.

As outgoing as Molly was, she was also the daughter of Joana and Harold Rogers, two of the most conservative people Lexa had ever met in her life. Growing up under the strict supervision of her famous parents, it was a miracle Molly hadn't gone down the same self-destructive route that so many other rich kids couldn't resist. Just the opposite, actually. Except for her pendant for wearing skimpy clothes and enjoying the nightlife, Molly was determined to make her parents proud. To that end, pole dancing would be a huge step in the wrong direction.

Not so for Lexa. _She_ needed the influence of something more than books and studies. And Lexa was proud that she had gone through and signed up for the dance class all on her own. Even though that virtual kick in her backside from Molly just now had been certainly helpful in summoning the courage for the all-important final step of crossing the threshold.

Lexa finally worked up the nerve and grabbed the silver doorknob in front of her, feeling the beat of the music vibrate up her arm.

Oh yes. She was going to rock this opportunity to spice up her life. This would be her time to do something remarkable for once. To be special.

"Are you going to stare at the door all night, or go in, freak?"

Lexa turned to find a girl with beaver-brown hair standing behind her, arms crossed over her chest, one heeled foot tapping a rapid staccato on the gleaming tile floor. She wasn't overly attractive, but her outfit screamed money, and her attitude was enough to raise the hackles of a saint.

Even so, Lexa extended an olive branch. "Hi there. Are you here for _Beginners_ class too?"

The girl rolled her eyes and pushed past Lexa into the reception area.

Lexa caught the door before it closed in her face.

So much for being the bigger person, she thought, entering the studio after Snippy.

"Hey, you," Lexa heard the receptionist call. "You have to tick your name off the list first."

"Tracy O'Connor." The girl waved a hand over her shoulder and didn't stop as she carried her bag into one of the three rooms that branched off to the side. Music swelled for a moment then faded back to the thump of the bass, in time for Lexa to hear the receptionist grumble, "You're welcome." Her teeth ground furiously as she checked the print-out in front of her and marked the right entry before turning to Lexa.

Lexa pulled her gaze away from the girl's rotating jaw. Not fast enough.

The receptionist grinned sheepishly, pointing towards her mouth, allowing the tip of a blue, mangled chewing gum to peek out between her lips. "It's like a stress ball for teeth. I chew it, and – _ahh_. You know?" She tilted her head. "No, you probably don't. You're looking at me funny."

"Sorry—"

"Don't be." Metal flashed. "What's your name, please?"

"Alexandra Harrington. My friends call me Lexa."

"Hi, Lexa. I'm Ginger." The girl gestured at her reddish hair. "Irish heritage, my mum says. Have I seen you before?"

"I watched the performances last week."

" _Riiight_. You got the last spot in the _Beginners_ class." Ginger used her pen to point at a black door with a small observation window and pink writing at the top. "You are in _Clubhouse_. Go right on in."

Lexa's forehead scrunched up when she realized it was the same door Tracy had disappeared through.

"Don't worry." Ginger seemed to read Lexa's thoughts easily. "They don't bite. Tracy must be an exception. Female dog DNA, I believe."

Lexa couldn't help the laughter bubbling in her throat. "Good to know."

She gave the door another dubious look, then walked on in and swept her gaze across the room.

The color scheme was in keeping with the door outside and the _Showroom_ Lexa had seen during her visit last week. The walls were black. Everything else was pink.

Pink gauze drapes kept the fading twilight and stray looks from the street below out. On the ceiling, diffused light shimmered through tinted glass, bathing the room in a soft pink glow. The hardwood floor was – what else – colored pink.

Lexa counted twelve spinning poles and – excluding herself – six more or less panicked-looking girls. The poles, Lexa knew from the studio's website, were made of brass, supposedly because it offered better grip.

She touched the closest one as she walked up to the full length mirror running the side and front of the room. The metal felt cool and smooth against her fingers. Smooth enough for her hand to slide right off.

"Bah! Beginners."

Lexa looked up to find Tracy in a perfect split on the floor, her face a mask of haughty contempt. The other girls lifted their heads in curious confusion.

Lexa dropped her work-out gear next to the wall, out of immediate tripping danger, and faced the trouble-maker. Time to teach Snippy here some manners. Lexa might be reserved, but Molly had made sure she wasn't a pushover for anybody. Also, she had given the girl one free pass already.

"Last time I checked, that was the description of this class," she said politely.

Tracy sniffed and rolled her eyes.

"Is it just me, or do you have a problem with everyone?" Lexa asked curiously.

"Don't flatter yourself. I just can't deal with incompetence."

"And I can't deal with PMS-ing bitches," a slightly overweight strawberry-blonde girl with a Scottish accent drawled on the other side of the room. Tracy's eyes shot daggers at the girl who didn't seem to be intimidated in the least.

"I'm Angie. Nice to meet you." The girl nodded at Lexa.

"I'm Lexa. I'm kind of feeling out of my depth." The confession slid out without proper thought. Lexa bit her lip in dismay.

"I think we all are," Angie replied, ignoring Tracy's huff. "In eight weeks we'll look back and laugh at ourselves."

Four heads bobbed rapidly in eager agreement. Lexa felt instantly more at ease. She clearly wasn't the only one who was nervous here. More importantly, it seemed that Ginger had been right. The group seemed rather nice, Snippy excluded. Lexa felt a huge weight lift from her chest.

Before the others could introduce themselves, the host Lexa had briefly spoken to the week before entered the room, looking so different in her comfy sweat pants that Lexa had to do a double take. In the end, it was the red lips that gave her away.

"Hi girls," she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm Ruby. First timers, show of hands, please."

Arms raised all around the room. Lexa rubbed her sweaty palms against her own pants before outing herself as another newbie. She looked around. Only Tracy was standing off to the side, her fingers wrapped firmly around the pole in front of her.

"Thanks girls." Ruby motioned for them to relax. "It's great to have you here at Crystal's. We'll have a lot of fun together while I teach you the basics of pole dancing. To start off, let's have a quick round of introductions. You start." She pointed towards a slender girl to the right.

"I'm Gigi," the girl said so quietly her voice barely carried across the room. "I'm working in a gentlemen's club on Friday nights to finance my studies. They threatened to fire me if I don't learn how to dance."

So they _did_ teach professionals as well. Lexa wouldn't have pegged the shy girl as a stripper. Then again, what did she know about it?

She gripped the pole in front of her harder, trying to think of something to say, while the line of introductions moved steadily in her direction. When it was her turn, eight pairs of eyes focused on her with curiosity.

"Hi, I'm Lexa. I've moved to New York to study, four years ago. I thought pole was a great way to spice up my life." To learn what seemed to come naturally to all other girls her age. High-heel walking, booty-shaking, strutting her stuff. Because being smart was clearly not enough to have a fulfilled love life.

"Thanks Lexa." Ruby nodded at her in acknowledgement. "We have girls coming in looking for that little bit extra all the time." She winked at her. "Who's next?"

"I'm Tracy. I'm from Europe. I've danced for close to three months. I shouldn't be in the beginners' class."

Ruby frowned. "You're right. That sounds like a mistake. Did you do a private dance for our assessment panel?"

"Do I look like a whore?"

The instructor's friendly expression disappeared in an instant. "I don't know what you think this is," she said tightly, "but we are not a brothel."

"You sure have their staff." Tracy nodded towards Gigi, who promptly turned beet red with embarrassment.

Lexa saw Ruby's lips pinch tight. "Another comment like this one and your membership will be revoked. We don't tolerate intimidation and bullying here at Crystal's. Nor do we take your health and safety lightly. If you want to attend a more advanced class, you'll have to do the private dance. If the panel thinks you're good enough, you're free to move up. Otherwise go. Or stay and watch your manners."

Tracy looked chastised for all of three seconds. Long enough for introductions to move on.

By the time they had listened to Kaycee – a stunner, if Lexa had ever seen one, Lizzie, and Emily, Ruby had slipped back into her cheerful self.

"I already told you my name," she said amiably. "As for other important things. I was a showgirl until I met my husband five years ago. Since then I've been teaching here at Crystal's and loving every second of it. I have two adorable toddlers aged one and four. Pole is my way to escape the craziness at home and keep my figure tight."

Indeed, Ruby looked incredible for a woman clearly approaching her forties. Lexa wasn't the only one to think so, either.

"She looks amazeballs," Lizzie mouthed, tracking the instructor with her eyes as Ruby made her way to the sound system at the back of the room. "Look at the muscles in her arms. Oh my god, I wish I had a butt like that. How does she manage to get such a flat stomach after two kids?"

"Are you a lesbian?" Tracy hissed.

Lizzie allowed her gaze to skim Tracy's trim figure. "If I were, you'd not be my type."

The volume of the music that had played in the background suddenly cranked up, drowning out anything Tracy had wanted to say. Lexa grinned at the girl's irritated expression. Yes, Lexa could definitely enjoy it here.

Or not, she thought panting half an hour later when the music finally cut off again.

"Please tell me we won't do this every time," Angie groaned, flopping noisily onto the floor, her eyes fastened pleadingly on Ruby, who had transformed from cheerful pole teacher to drill master extraordinaire at the speed of light. "I don't think I saw 'warm up of death' detailed on the online course description."

Ruby's lips curved upwards at the corners. "If you want to knock the socks off the guys with your dancing, girls, you'll need the strength and stamina. Muscle tone gives you better posture. And how you carry yourselves is the first indication of how confident you are in your own abilities.

Stand straight and people will take you more seriously. That's true for most circumstances in life, by the way. You'll thank me for pushing you...though maybe not tomorrow."

A collective moan was her only answer.

"Aw, you make me almost feel bad. Now take off your long pants, long shirts, and pop on your shoes. It's time we start the real work out."

Along with the other girls, Lexa stripped down to her simple, navy-blue hot-pants and sports bra, then grabbed in her bag for the high heels that Ginger had told her last week to bring along.

"Don't bring your newest pair," the receptionist had warned. "They are likely to get all bumped up."

Lexa looked at the tattered black heels in her hand. They weren't only her newest pair. They were her only pair. Her going out shoes, because the clubs were dark enough to hide their state of disrepair.

They didn't have a strap, so she just slipped them on.

Done within seconds, she took a peek at the other girls.

Kaycee and Emily seemed to have forgotten to bring heels altogether and were standing red-faced next to their poles. Angie, Lizzie and Gigi were wearing equally tattered pumps.

Only Tracy seemed to be properly outfitted. She was wearing a shiny black pair of break-your-neck stilettos with dainty pink straps around her ankles. When she saw Lexa's gaze, she jutted her chin towards Lexa's feet. "They're going to come off the first time you do the Chopper. I'd never dance without proper stripper-heels."

Lexa looked at Angie, who just shrugged her shoulders. Obviously she also didn't know what a Chopper was.

Thankfully, Ruby interrupted the tension at that moment, walking up to the empty pole at the front of the room. "We're going to start with a body roll. I'll show you the move first. Then we practice. Hold on to the pole with both of your hands, lean your upper body away from the pole, roll down your spine, push your butt out and your upper body back towards the pole." She shot them a look over her shoulder. "Back. Down. Out. Forward. Got it? Give it a try. And whatever you do, make sure you look sexy in the mirror. Like Emily over there."

Lexa sucked in a surprised breath. The girl in question had transformed from a plain, easy-to-overlook student to a seasoned seductress in the span of one move and was currently undulating in time with the music.

Spurred on by Emily's success, Lexa wavered up to her pole and wrapped her hands around the smooth metal rod, only to realize that she couldn't remember which body-part was supposed to go where. She tried to figure it out from the other girls. It was useless. Working her body as best she could, she slowly turned towards the mirror. Maybe she at least looked good.

_Nope._ She bore more resemblance to an inchworm on ecstasy than a sexy private dancer.

"Lexa, was it?" Ruby glided up to her, as if she was walking on air. Her legs – now devoid of the comfy pants, were toned and smooth like the rest of her. The barely there panties with "naughty girl" emblazoned on her tailbone sparkled with every step she took.

"Come over here." She guided Lexa towards the back. "Lean against the wall," she instructed. "Now try the move again, but this time take it one step at a time. You can't master the end result if you haven't mastered the pieces. I'll shout out the moves for you. Back. Down. Out. Forward. That's better. See? Now you can feel every single disk of your spine press individually against the wall as you roll down."

Lexa felt no such thing, but wasn't about to disagree.

Still, something must have shown on her face, because Ruby patted her shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry. It took me three weeks to get the move when I started. The secret to mastering it is practice. I want you to repeat this exercise every day until our next class."

Her first lesson and she had already been singled out to do homework. Was she really the only one who didn't get this?

Lexa looked around the room. Yep. Everyone else was body-rolling into the sunset. Well, she guessed it was a good thing she had never imagined this would be easy.

# **Chapter 3**

The next day, Lexa left university with a spring in her step that belied the soreness in her muscles. Life was looking up for her. At least financially.

She had emailed a signed copy of the contract to Corporate Calls yesterday and would take in the original on Monday. She had been surprised that they had wanted her to start immediately but wasn't about to argue. Everyone knew that paid internships came about only every hundred years or so, and Corporate Calls had been unusually accommodating. It was the opportunity of a lifetime for a senior student like her, not to mention the way to stay independent from her parents until she finished her education and could look for a proper job.

Lexa shielded her eyes, as she stepped out of the building to head home and saw Molly wave at her from across the yard.

"We are going out." Molly slipped her hand into the crook of Lexa's arm when they caught up halfway to the gates. "It's Friday and we have ample cause to celebrate."

Lexa halted to look at her friend. "You know I don't like nightclubs the way you do, Mol. If we are celebrating because of me, I vote for pizza at home instead."

"You're such a spoilsport sometimes." Molly rolled her eyes and tugged her along. "Are you worried you won't be up for studying tomorrow? It's the weekend, Lexa. The computer stuff can wait for a day."

It wasn't 'the computer stuff' that kept Lexa from enjoying their girls' nights out. It was the fact that Molly was a force to be reckoned with and, well, Lexa was not – or at least not yet. Which meant she normally ended up somewhere in the shadows, watching Molly sample the merchandise. Not exactly Lexa's idea of great evening entertainment. But saying it would make her a selfish cow. Pulling the sympathy card, on the other hand, would make her a coward and a liar.

'Going out' may have a negative connotation in Lexa's mind, since her attack happened in a bar, but she had never let that stop her from doing anything. She refused to be ruled by her anxiety. Molly knew it too. After all, it had been Lexa who had insisted Molly should never coddle her the way Lexa's parents did.

" _Pleeease?_ " Molly looked at her with beseeching eyes. "It's going to be such fun. I'm going to dress you up. When I'm done there's no way you won't have a hot date by the end of the night. Tomorrow you'll make breakfast for two."

Lexa groaned at the image of an intoxicated wannabe Romeo groping her, while demanding she make him her eggs-on-toast special come morning. Somehow the thought didn't entice her the way Molly surely had intended it to.

Lexa had always hoped that her first time would be with someone who actually cared for her, rather than a drunk pickup she had brought home from a club. But, maybe after years of being a wallflower, it was beyond time she finally revised her standards. Was she really that undesirable that the other half of her horizontal tango required beer goggles to enjoy popping her cherry? "I don't know—"

"I'll do the dishes for the next three weeks."

Lexa's shoulders slumped in defeat.

" _Yesss_ , I knew it." Molly fist-bumped the air in victory. "We're going to have a great time tonight."

***

Or not, Lexa thought a few hours later, shifting from her painful right foot to her throbbing left one. Her three inch heels were _killing_ her.

She eyed the firmly occupied chairs along the bar of Molly's favorite underground nightclub longingly and wondered if she could make it look like a drunken accident to unseat one of the girls. She doubted anyone would even notice.

The club was packed, as always on a Friday night, with bodies gyrating on every available – and not so available – surface to the questionable compilation of a greasy-haired DJ. Bartenders were rushing to and fro behind a battered wooden counter, while multiple revelers attempted to climb one another in the dimly lit corners of the stone-walled cellar.

A body jostled Lexa from the side causing her to stumble against Molly, who took her eyes off her man of the hour just long enough to quip at the troublemaker.

"Nice belt."

The girl, whose white skirt exposed two fake-tanned butt-cheeks for all the world to see, countered with a salute of her middle finger that had Molly sniggering and caused Lexa to reflect ruefully on her own outfit. Short dress, heavy make-up. Molly hadn't exaggerated when she had promised Lexa the whole shebang as she poked and prodded Lexa for the better part of forty-five minutes. Lexa felt sorry for the guy who woke up next to her in the morning and realized how make-up, low lighting, and a heavy dose of alcohol had skewed his perception.

Not that she intended on taking anyone home. But if she would... She surveyed the club for the umpteenth time, feeling her lips curl in distaste at the amount of sweat and other bodily fluids being exchanged. Scrap 'if she would'. She wouldn't. Period. She was _definitely_ going home alone tonight.

Lexa sighed. _All alone_ , if Molly diving in to examine Chico's tonsils with her tongue for the fifth time in as many minutes was any indication. Her roommate didn't believe in taking out the trash in the morning. Which meant the lovebirds would probably end up at Chico's pad.

Not that Chico looked trashy in any way. More like a Brazilian model. Which begged the question: why was someone this handsome single? Or maybe he wasn't. Not that Molly cared about such insignificancies one way or the other. She had the strict view that everyone was responsible for their own actions.

_It's not like I force them to be unfaithful_ , she had once said to Lexa when Lexa had felt compelled to point out the possible dilemma. Lexa didn't quite agree with the mentality, but who was she to berate her friend's conquests? As long as they left Molly's heart intact.

"You look way too sober for this late hour." A slimeball Lexa had bumped into earlier leaned a heavy hand against the wall next to her head. His lips were wet from too much drink. His eyes had long since glazed over. His body wavered and Lexa pushed further into the stone at her back. She wasn't intimidated, but the amount of alcohol on slimeball's breath as he slurred at her was enough to make her light-headed.

"Don't worry," she tried to speak while holding her breath. "You're wasted enough for the both of us."

Before his drink-addled brain could come up with some sort of response, Lexa pushed past the douche to flee towards the women's restroom wondering if having a few shots would be a good idea after all. Maybe if she was drunk enough she could enjoy meaningless conversations like the rest of the population. Maybe sweaty hands brushing her bare shoulders and butt wouldn't be so bad if she was too inebriated to notice.

Maybe then she wouldn't be so hell-bent on waiting for a prince charming that was never coming to rid her of that dratted V-card and content herself with Beer Buster Joe over there at the bar. Only what if Joe was actually a badass who didn't care if she said yes or no once they got somewhere private enough to get it on? Then she would be alone with him and her reflexes way too impaired to get away.

What if she was still fully on board to have sex, but they were both too drunk to think about a condom. Was she really ready to put her lifelong health at risk for a quick tumble in the sheets?

She burst through the door of the restroom and navigated her way around swaying girls to the free stall at the back. Glaring at the mess inside – aim was a talent only afforded to the sober – she slammed the door shut and just stood there, reveling in the relative, if somewhat malodorous solitude.

No, she was never going to be able to convince herself that alcohol was the answer. And sober as she was, she didn't seem to be interesting enough to anyone unless they were barely able to stand themselves. She really should just call it a night. Molly had ample company with Chico. She would hardly miss Lexa's quiet presence. And Lexa? Lexa could go home to her uncrowded apartment and spend the rest of the night walking barefoot. It was a win-win scenario for everyone.

Feeling much better for having made a decision, Lexa weaved her way back to the noisy bar to say her goodbyes when she was intercepted by a guy who looked suspiciously like Chico's fitness buff brother.

"Hi, I'm Antoine." She lip-read the words over the thumping music.

Behind Antoine's back, Molly extracted her tongue from Chico's throat to bounce up and down, moving her mouth in what Lexa decided was supposed to be a slightly tipsy recommendation, before she gave a wobbly thumbs up.

Lexa gritted her teeth. So much for making a quick exit.

"I'm Lexa. Nice to meet you," she enunciated.

Antoine leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "What would you like?"

_To leave_ , she thought. "Strawberry vodka," she said.

He got the drinks in record time and Lexa clinked her glass with his.

"So what do you do when you don't buy drinks for girls in a bar?" God, did that really just come out of her mouth? Lexa took a tiny sip. She sucked at small talk. But so, it seemed, did he.

"I kind of like going to the gym."

_No kidding!_ She took in his exaggerated physique. How was it, she wondered, that men could make out a woman's peaked nipples across a distance of a hundred yards, but failed to notice the not so subtle line between sexy buff and ostentatious blow-up doll?

He shifted when she continued to stare at him. "Do _you_ work out much?" His gaze touched on all her unremarkable muscles.

Lexa dragged her eyes back up to his face and brought her glass to her lips again, buying time. Warmth spread from her belly towards her fingertips. Instant gratitude for someone who barely drank. "I pole dance."

"Are you a stripper then?"

She choked on the liquid passing her throat. "No." The word came out with a little too much force.

The light of excitement dimmed in Antoine's eyes. It bothered her.

It didn't matter that he wasn't her type, or that he had forced her into this conversation mere minutes ago. Now that they were actually talking, him losing interest had become a matter of rejection. Lexa was sick and tired of being rejected.

Wracking her brain on how to lure him back without making it sound as if she could be bought for the night, Lexa shot a look at Molly who always knew exactly what to say. Or maybe Molly didn't, Lexa thought, watching her friend win another set of tonsil-tennis with her Brazilian beau.

Well, that would be one way to spice up her life. She didn't have to jump into bed with the guy. Small steps. Wasn't that what Ruby had said?

Fuelled by at least three sips of her drink, Lexa decided it was time to stop stalling. She put the glass on the bar next to her. She didn't want to wear the drink should things get hot. And wasn't that already the first problem? She was far too lucid to consider getting it on with Mister-too-sexy-for-my-body.

Silencing the nagging voice inside her head, she grabbed his neck, tunneled her hand into his hair, and pulled him in for a kiss.

As big as he was, Lexa was glad he came willingly. She slanted her mouth over his, trying not to cringe at the thought of how his tongue had likely been down another woman's throat a few minutes earlier.

Herpes simplex was probably having a ball in this club.

His arms came around her like a vise. Contrary to her, _he_ was obviously drunk enough not to be quite able to control his strength anymore.

Lexa gasped, apparently giving him the opening he had been waiting for.

His tongue swept in like a slimy slug and her tentative grip on his shirt became a very un-tentative push.

"This isn't going to work," she said, once she managed to dislodge the suction cup that was his mouth. "I'm going home."

To his credit, he wasn't offended in the slightest.

"I'll walk you up," he said. "Make sure nobody bothers you."

"That isn't necessary."

"I saw your face when the guys groped you."

That elicited a small smile from her. She guessed his kiss wouldn't actually have been so bad, had she been into him.

"Thanks."

She waved good-bye to Molly, showing her keys and started towards the stairs.

"Hold on." Molly had torn herself away from Chico to come after her. "One second." She smiled at Antoine and pulled Lexa to the side. "Condoms are in my bedside table drawer," she shouted over the din, and Lexa almost burst out laughing.

The only thing that held her back was the fact that she knew Molly was giving Lexa her version of the 'safe-sex' lecture because she cared.

"He's not coming home with me."

"Oh." Molly's face fell. "But..."

"He's just walking me up. Making sure nobody bothers me."

"Gosh, Lexa, that's so cute. Why on earth are you not taking him home?"

Yes, why wasn't she? She looked again at Antoine who waited patiently, a small smile on his face. He was almost like a big teddy bear. Just not first-time sex material. Not for her. That darn prince charming was still stuck in her mind. Maybe it was her own fault she hadn't had a sex life for all these years. Maybe her expectations were just too high.

"I just can't." She must have sounded really sad, because Molly gave her a quick hug.

"Okay, babe. Let me get my handbag." She started to turn away, but Lexa stopped Molly with a touch on her arm. "No. I don't want you to cut your night out short just because of me."

"I will anyway. No guy is worth my BFF sitting home sad and alone. So stop arguing."

Now Lexa truly felt like the spoilsport Molly had accused her of being earlier. But she knew from experience that all resistance was futile when it came to dissuading her friend from a path Molly had deemed right and proper.

She waited for Molly to pick up her bag, then led their way to the top of the stairs. After saying goodbye to Antoine, they stepped out into the street, surprised to see the dark of the night was already slowly giving way to dawn.

Five forty-five in the morning. It had been some time since they had last been out this long.

"It was a good effort. A good night," Lexa said, turning in the direction of their apartment. At least she had taken a tiny first step in the right direction with that kiss.

"It was," Molly agreed, bumping Lexa's side every few meters as she wavered over the pavement, "but it's going to be an awful morning. My head is already starting to pound." When Molly bumped into her again, Lexa grabbed her arm and hooked it through her own. "I'll make you hangover breakfast, Molly Rogers."

"Ha. I knew you'd be making breakfast for two."

# **Chapter 4**

"Lexa?"

"Jack."

"Thanks, Eugene. I'll take it from here." Jack nodded at the security guard who oversaw the ground floor of the large office building that Corporate Calls shared with a number of other companies, then turned back to her. "Did you wait long?"

Lexa shook her head. "Just a few minutes." Just long enough to take everything in.

It was Monday morning and her first day at work. Lexa had wanted to be on time and left home a little too early. She had anticipated to sit and wait for a while, until Michael was ready to receive her, but Eugene had taken one look at what he deemed to be a trustworthy face and had given Lexa leave to walk the semipublic areas of the vast ground floor without supervision. The walkabout had been a pleasant surprise.

The high-rise glass construction situated next to the river shore in one of the better parts of town was as stunning from the inside as it was from the outside. The lobby located unusually in the middle of the building was designed as an atrium that rose through several stories and had a glazed roof that allowed the early spring sun to shine down warmly on Lexa's head. A small fountain gurgled in the center of the entrance hall, and goldfish were swimming happily through an underwater forest. A number of coffee shops and small bistros were tucked against the walls to both sides, while straight ahead and to the back a dozen see-through, bullet shaped elevators transported people to and from the offices that spanned the upper floors of the modern construction.

Every detail in the hall was thought through and flawlessly executed. Every single person rushing over the tiled hall floor fit perfectly into the picture of polished professionalism.

Including the man who now guided Lexa with practiced ease through the crowd and towards the open doors of a waiting elevator car.

Jack Daniels. Lexa regarded her long-time hero surreptitiously.

He looked right at home, here in the business world, in his business attire that showed off, instead of concealed his gorgeous body.

He had filled out in the last three years, looking even sexier than back at university. His white button-down shirt clung nicely to his muscled chest, his suit trousers molded to long, strong legs. His hands were wide and capable. So capable of wrestling her attacker to the ground. Capable of keeping a girl from harm.

His face still betrayed a hint of the boyish charm that had pulled her in the first time she had met him, but there was no denying that, at twenty-eight, he was all man. And way more handsome than any guy should have the right to be.

The slight tan that hadn't managed to fade completely over the winter months set off his sandy hair. His cheeks were clean-shaven, his sensual mouth quirked in a seemingly perpetual half-smile. But it was the eyes that captured hers every time he checked if she was keeping up with him that still had the power to mesmerize Lexa. They were the most unusual color she had ever seen. Pale brown around his pupils dissolved into a washed-out blue. In between were flecks of gold. Oh yes, they were the eyes that she remembered from when they were at the university.

"You're looking good." The admission slipped past her lips before she could bite it back.

Jack laughed. "Not as good as you, I'm sure."

She should have foreseen it. She really should have.

Jack had always been a charmer. A guy who knew exactly what to say to make the girls feel good.

Only, he had never bothered to use his charm on _her_ before and, for a second, Lexa felt stunned.

Then her body caught up to the compliment and heat suffused her face. "Uh." She ducked her head, trying desperately to hide her blazing cheeks. "Uh."

_Uh...uh? Really?_ Not a sincere 'uh, thank you'. Or maybe a little, flirty 'uh, that was smooth'? No, after four long years of waiting for a compliment from him; after all this time she had to prepare a well-worded response, the best she could come up with was to grunt in his face? Twice.

_Great job, Lexa. Great second first impression on the guy who starred in every single one of your fantasies for the last four years._

She must have writhed in silent mortification for too long, because Jack cleared his throat, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "Sorry. I didn't mean that the way you... It was only a figure of speech."

Oh god, now he was taking it back too?

Slowly dying of embarrassment, Lexa ducked into the passenger compartment of the elevator. Not the wittiest of her responses – to run away – but what the hell. She had to be the only person in the world to ever qualify for a compliment recall.

Feeling foolish and more than a little bit awkward as he joined her in the small enclosure, Lexa stubbornly stared at the buttons on the wall as the car shot up to the twenty-second floor in the space of a breath. How had she managed to mess up a simple greeting when all she had obsessed over for the last few days was making a good impression?

"After you." Watching Jack's hand glide in front of the light sensor to let her get off the elevator first, Lexa rushed ahead, glad to escape the forced intimacy.

She stopped when she realized she had no idea where she was going.

"Michael's office is to your left." He pointed towards a frosted glass door at the end of the hallway.

Lexa gnawed at her bottom lip, her eyes still unable to fully meet his. "Is there anywhere I can sit and wait? I don't have an appointment until later." She really didn't want to barge into a conference call on top of it all. Humiliating herself in front of one partner of the company was surely enough for her first day at work. But Jack had other plans.

"It's fine. He won't mind." He pushed past her into the room, turning around only long enough to add, "He's my brother."

Of course. She knew that. Still, Lexa was only a lowly intern.

"Are you sure?" she murmured, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow her whole when she heard a deep voice rumbling on the other side of the dividing wall.

"Our mother swears it's true."

"That's not... That isn't what I wanted to imply, sir." God, what was wrong with her today? She wasn't normally _this_ clumsy.

Michael's lips twitched at the corners as he grabbed her hand to shake it. "You must be Alexandra."

"L-Lexa, sir, if you don't mind."

"L-Lexa, I'm M-Michael and far too young to be called sir." He winked at her, the fine laugh lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, crinkling.

At least he didn't seem to be put out by her offhanded comment.

A few years older than Jack, Michael's hair had begun to grey at his temples. His lips sported the same lop-sided grin that Lexa started to believe was a Daniels trademark. But that was where the similarities between the brothers ended. Stocky, with just the beginnings of a paunch, Michael was nowhere near as athletic as Jack, nor did he have the GQ good looks of his brother. His was a rather rugged appeal, combined with a hidden but undoubtedly razor-sharp intelligence. A streetwise businessman who had learned to handle any situation with poise and couldn't help but be amused by Lexa's barely concealed self-consciousness.

He pointed towards a chair. "Please, take a seat. Jack's told me much about you."

_He did?_ Her gaze darted to Jack's quiet presence in the corner. He looked absorbed in thought, a frown marring his usually smooth forehead.

After her stunt in the lobby, he probably regretted suggesting to Michael that they should hire her as an intern. Lexa still wondered why he had. They hadn't seen each other in years. Even before that, they hadn't run in the same circles. How could they? Lexa had been the epitome of a modern-day wallflower, while Jack was the most sought after guy on campus. They only had interacted at all because Jack had saved Lexa from a violent drunk.

Lexa bit her lip. Had Jack told Michael about the attack? Had this been a pity assignment?

As if he could read her thoughts, Michael tapped the file in front of him with one short-nailed fingertip. "Your CV is quite impressive, Lexa. You have gained work experience at four different companies and you haven't even finished your studies yet."

Lexa exhaled a relieved breath. Her CV _was_ impressive for her age. She had made it routine to sign up for various internships over the summer holidays for the last few years. Although this was her first paid job, she had previously worked flexible hours as a transcriber for an online consultancy, organized meetings for a blue-chip company's CEO, provided technical support to the local library, and created user documents for a gaming platform. In addition to that, her grades at the university were top of her class. Whatever she lacked in social skills, she made up with sheer determination and brain power.

"I'm trying to get a head start."

"That you have achieved already."

This time, she had no trouble accepting the praise. She knew she was smart. She counted on it. As did Michael, she realized, when he got straight to the point of the meeting.

"I understand your strength is software development?"

"Yes, sir. Michael," she corrected herself quickly.

His lips quirked. "We're really quite informal here. You'll see. I have assigned you to our software team and am expecting you to help out with a new project that needs more staff. This way you'll get real client experience and we get to assign additional manpower where we need it. You'll report to the designated team lead. However, if you have any questions or concerns beyond your project work, please feel free to contact my assistant for an appointment."

"Thank you." Lexa rose when he did. "And thank you for the opportunity."

As a company well aligned to her skill set, Corporate Calls had been on her wish list since its inception last year, but she had never thought that she'd get the chance to gain work experience with the up-and-coming consultancy this quickly. It was well known that they were still developing a footing in the market and had never offered an internship before.

"We're glad to have you on board, Lexa." Michael's expression was open and honest as he rounded his desk to get the door for her.

"Very glad," Jack confirmed, as he followed her out of the office.

Surprised that he would think so, even after her earlier embarrassment, Lexa turned around to properly thank him this time, and felt her breath catch in her throat.

Was he staring at her backside?

***

Jack heard Lexa's sharp intake of breath and snapped his gaze back to her face. Great, why didn't he shoot himself right now? Hadn't it been bad enough that he couldn't stop himself from flirting with her within minutes of her arrival? Did he _have to_ make sure that she caught him staring at her butt, too? A very nice, heart-shaped butt that he hadn't managed to get out of his mind for years. But still her butt. _That's two counts of potential sexual harassment, Daniels._

He was worse than Mary-Lou. The thought was effective in cooling him down.

Still, he couldn't seem to stop himself from sneaking one last, tiny glance.

It had just been too long since he last saw her and she was too goddamn cute in her pantsuit and flats, with her thick hair spilling in soft waves down her back and her blue eyes regarding him with equal parts disbelief and uncertainty.

Jack doubted she would approve of his assessment. Women, in his experience, hated the words cute and uncertainty. They either wanted to be genderless professionals or confident, gorgeous sex-goddesses.

Lexa didn't fit either mold and still there was something about her that made his skin tighten with awareness. It had always been that way. Even back when he had first laid eyes on her across the room at the university freshmen welcome party. He had been halfway down the bar to ask her if he could buy her a drink when a guy so drunk he was barely able to stand had stumbled and fallen to the floor in front of her, his beer bottle shattering in his hand.

_You tripped me, bitch._

The slurred words were forever branded into Jack's brain, the drunkard's voice loud enough to be heard even over the blaring music. The guy had rounded on Lexa then, the neck of the bottle still clutched in his fingers.

_No._ Jack remembered shouting, heads turning in his direction, as he pushed through the throng of partygoers. _Help her._

But his fellow students had either been too inebriated or too worried about their own safety to intervene.

By the time Jack had reached Lexa and grabbed the violent student from behind, the guy had slashed Lexa's cheek open, just above her jawline – two jagged lines from the edges of the broken glass, quickly disappearing under a flood of blood.

Wrestling the guy to the ground and prying the broken bottle from his fingers, Jack had come perilously close to retaliating. But one look into Lexa's sheet-white face had him instead shouting at his friends to hold the guy down and call security.

Her hands had shaken badly when she had brought her fingers to the wound, her body swaying as if she was bracing against a bad storm.

Recognizing shock when he saw it, Jack caught her elbow before she could pass out. Guiding her towards a nearby chair, he had grabbed blindly for the first aid kit that had appeared out of nowhere and stanched the blood flow on Lexa's face. His throat too tight, he had softly touched Lexa's lips, relieved when she had lifted her too dilated eyes to his.

_You can feel that? Good. That means he didn't sever a nerve._ His voice had been like gravel. His mind conjuring up images of what could have happened; what would have happened, if the guy had accidentally slashed her neck instead. She had been indescribably lucky. Even though he had felt like a fraud at the time for even thinking it.

She had needed immediate medical attention and a couple of skin grafts, but there had been no long-lasting consequences, except the two scars still marring her cheek. They had faded over the years, and with the light cover of her make-up were barely visible.

Jack's chance to be anything more than a friend, however, had shattered along with the beer bottle on the floor. Oh, he had still wanted to go out with her. More each time he saw her strength and determination in overcoming the incident, but even he could guess that suggesting he was attracted to her, when half the skin on her face was gone, would probably do more damage than good. And later, when she was back to full health, but still reeling from the attack. How could he be certain she wasn't only indulging him, because she felt like she owed him?

No, it had to be _her_ approaching _him_ in some way. Any way. If she had so much as flirted with him just once when they met in the hallway outside their apartments, he would have jumped at the chance to take her out. Only she hadn't. She had acted grateful but nothing more, and Jack finally had to face the facts. He was pining after Lexa and she was oblivious to the attraction he had been so certain was mutual.

He had started dating again, trying to get over his inexplicable infatuation with a girl who seemed to be able to make his whole day, just by giving him the tiniest of smiles. It hadn't worked. Every time he thought he had managed to get her out of his system, she would be there in the hallway looking beautiful and ready to conquer life even though it had kicked her in the face in the ugliest of ways, and he would fall a little bit more for her.

Then his PhD had finished. Walking away had been the most difficult thing he had ever done in his life. For months, he had hoped that she would contact him at the email address he had given her in an attempt to keep at least one small path of communication open between them. But when no message arrived, he had assumed she wanted to forget the incident that had brought them together and him with it. It was her right.

Then her CV had landed in his inbox and he could barely believe that, after all this time, he was finally given a second chance.

To ask his brother to give her the internship had been an absolute no-brainer for Jack. Once she was here, he thought he would woo her like he couldn't three years ago. But the way she had reacted to his compliment in the lobby and now with him blatantly staring at her butt... Jack rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He'd be lucky if she was still talking to him.

***

"How was it? How is he? Did he ask you out?"

Lexa startled as the door to their apartment swung open and the questions hit her straight in the face. Panting slightly from walking up six flights of stairs, she pushed past her overexcited roommate and into the comfortably furnished entrance hall slash dining area.

"Hello to you too. Yes, I would love to come in and sit down before being bombarded with questions. A tea? Molly that would be wonderful. You're so thoughtful. It's amazing."

Molly grinned at her. "Uh-oh. One day at work and she's already getting grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy. Tired, yes. Grumpy, no."

"Okay, Grumpy."

Lexa shot Molly a dark look, but couldn't help the grin tugging at her lips.

Allowing her handbag to slide off her arm, she took off her coat before sinking down on the couch that bridged the gap between the entrance and dining area. A small sigh escaped her mouth. It had been a long day. Her first day as a paid employee. It felt good. As did the tea warming her cold fingers after Molly handed her the cup.

"So?" Molly took a seat next to her, an expectant look on her face.

Lexa regarded her friend. "Why are you so excited about this?"

"Because you're finally getting a life."

"You sound like I've not stepped out of the apartment for years."

"You haven't stepped out of your comfort zone for years. Same thing."

"Maybe I didn't _want_ to step out of my comfort zone."

Molly scoffed. "You forget that I know you."

Lexa rolled her eyes, taking a small sip of the scalding brew. It was the only thing she could do. There was no point actually trying to _win_ an argument with the formidable Molly Rogers. Instead, she pulled out her phone to show Molly some pictures of the outside and lobby of the building. "Here. It's pretty awesome. They have their own heli-pad at the back."

Molly's hand reached out and the phone screen turned off with a quiet click.

"Hey—"

"Jack?"

"You're relentless."

"And way too clever to engage in a discussion about building design _or_ my character when I'm waiting for an answer."

"Molly."

"Lexa. Jack."

"Alright." Lexa shook her head when Molly excitedly clapped her hands.

"Be truthful," her friend warned. "I have an inbuilt Lexa-bullshit-detector."

And didn't Lexa know it. For some reason Molly could always tell when Lexa lied. Not that she resorted to half-truths and omissions often. However, there were things a girl wanted to keep secret. Like the fact that, even at twenty-two, Lexa was still a virgin. Molly had found out anyway. It had been an embarrassing conversation. Not for Molly, of course, she had loved that Lexa was strong enough to withstand the temptation. Lexa had commented the assumption with a non-committal grunt because, Lexa-bullshit-detector or not, even Molly couldn't glean much from a throatily uttered syllable.

The thought reminded Lexa of her response to Jack in the lobby and she quickly focused her musings back on the present. Anything was better than reliving the humiliation of this morning in her mind another time. "He's pretty hot," she admitted.

It wasn't anything Molly didn't say at least five times a day about a stranger on TV, but coming from Lexa it seemed to be a whole new ballgame.

"I knew it," Molly squeaked. "Does he still have a crush on you?"

"I already told you, he never did. And even if he had, I probably killed it once and for all." The last, Lexa mumbled into her cup and wasn't at all surprised when Molly's eyes narrowed as if she had heard. Molly had outstanding eavesdropping skills when something interesting was to be heard.

"What did you do?"

Lexa bit her lip. When would she finally learn to _shut up_? She looked at her friend trying to gauge if she could cheat her way out of responding. Seeing the piercing look Molly pinned her with and the stubborn set to her friend's mouth, Lexa slumped. Nothing got past Molly when she had her lawyer face on. "I said 'uh'."

"Uh?"

"Twice."

Molly's forehead scrunched up. "I'm not following."

"He said I looked better than him—"

"He did?"

Lexa glared at her friend until Molly stopped bouncing.

"That's when you said 'uh'?" her friend guessed.

"Nuh-uh. I said 'uh...uh'."

"And then?"

Lexa shrugged. "That's it. End of story?"

Molly's lips pinched. "Your honor, I think the defendant is leaving out crucial information that could contribute significantly to this evidence gathering stage."

Lexa rolled her eyes. She took a deep breath. "He may or may not have looked at my butt. Happy?"

"Depends. Was it before or after you said 'uh...uh'?"

"After."

Molly's ear-splitting cheer rent the air. "I knew it. What did he say when you caught him?"

"Nothing." He had looked as startled as she had felt and she had wondered if the direction of his gaze could have possibly been entirely unintentional. Maybe he had been absorbed in thoughts and didn't even notice where his eyes had drifted.

He hadn't looked guilty at all. Nor had he made any attempt to apologize. He had simply led her to her desk, oblivious to the pulse hammering in her veins. "He told me to call him if I have any questions."

"He gave you his number?"

"For professional purposes, not random small talk, Molly."

"Whatever. Did you call him?"

"Of course not. I was trying to meet everyone and then half the day was gone." The comment was as much of the truth as she dared to tell. Because, in all honesty, Jack's business card sitting on her desk all day had tempted her mercilessly. She had wanted to call him, if only to hear his voice again. A stupid notion, really, after the fool she had made of herself earlier. But there it was. Even the years apart didn't seem to have dampened the crush she still had on her former neighbor.

"You'll call him tomorrow." Molly nodded at her own statement, as if that could somehow sway Lexa's decision.

"I will not." She could not. What if he flustered her again and she blushed in the middle of the office, surrounded by her co-workers. It would eclipse today's debacle in the lobby a hundredfold in awkwardness. "I'll meet him again soon enough. It's a floor with twenty people for goodness sake. And even if I don't, I'm not working there to find a boyfriend." _She wasn't._ "I'm working there to earn some money."

"And who exactly says you can't do both?"

There was a beat of silence. One tiny moment of time where Lexa allowed herself to dream. Then she shook her head. "Affairs at the workplace never turn out well."

Molly grunted.

"You disagree?"

"Not for affairs, no. For relationships? Yes."

Lexa huffed a sigh. She was not getting into this.

"Just wait and see," Molly predicted. "In two months' time, you'll turn around and say 'Molly Rogers, forgive me for being an unbeliever'."

"Molly Rogers, forgive me, but I'll kick your butt if you don't back off."

Molly grinned at her unrepentantly. "Doesn't have quite the same ring to it, but I'll do it. For now."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me too early. Your parents called."

Lexa groaned. Her parents called at least twice a week. And if they didn't manage to reach Lexa, they tended to call Molly. She had told them a hundred times to leave her friends out of it, but it was no use with their overprotectiveness.

"Your mum asked me to tell you that she's worried about you."

"Isn't she always?" Lexa rubbed her forehead, wondering what had set her mother off this time. The anniversary of the attack was in autumn, and there hadn't been any reports on the news about women getting slashed in nightclubs recently. Lexa checked the headlines on a daily basis for just this reason.

Which meant it was something else that had blipped on Lillian Harrington's radar. Maybe something a friend of hers had said. Lexa sipped the last mouthful of her now cold tea and pushed up from the couch with a sigh. There would be more reminders for Lexa to start packing the next time they spoke. She didn't have any doubt about it. Which meant Lexa had to find a way to delay her mother reaching her for a little while longer, because, as hard as she tried, she hadn't quite figured out a way to gently break the truth to her parents.

***

Jack looked at the screen of his ringing cellphone and suppressed a silent groan. Ever since he had been officially assigned to the _Dancing Bear_ project, Mary-Lou had made it her mission to call him to discuss 'business' at ten-thirty at night.

Thinking how her business always included a lot of purring and panting into the phone, Jack was surprised that the phone company hadn't started to charge him extra. But not taking the call just wasn't an option. Michael counted on him, and Jack wasn't going to let his brother down the first time he had the chance to prove that the sacrifices Michael had made over the years on Jack's behalf were warranted.

Even so, he couldn't muster more than a reserved greeting when he finally picked up the call. "Mary-Lou."

"Jack, dear," Mary-Lou's sultry voice slid into his ear, her low chuckle sounding way too intimate in the semi-darkness of his living room. "You could give a girl frostbite with your cool demeanor."

Jack hit the second light switch on the wall. "It's a good thing I'm dealing with a woman then."

Laughter tinkled over the line, causing Jack to grit his teeth. As expected, she had taken the comment as a compliment when he had meant nothing more than for her to stop acting like an immature eighteen-year-old with a crush. The misunderstanding was a blessing for Jack. Insulting the client wouldn't be the right way to impress his brother. But Mary-Lou's conviction that she was god's gift to men – Jack in particular – seemed to bring out the worst in him.

"What can I help you with?" he asked, desperate to get her off the phone and get back to his action movie that continued to play on mute on his flat-screen TV.

"I was hoping to meet up with you. The ideas you mentioned in your email earlier today were good, but I think they lack, uh, personal touch."

The ambiguity of her words wasn't lost on him, neither was the cautiously hopeful tone of her voice. Alarm bells started to go off in Jack's head.

"I could meet you tomorrow, at noon," he rushed to say. "I'm afraid I'm tied up tonight."

"Are you?" The question held just enough innuendo to make him wince.

He wracked his brain for an answer that wouldn't inevitably lead to a place he was unwilling to go and came up blank.

"Jack?"

"Mary-Lou," he effected his most apologetic tone, "my phone's battery is running low. I'm afraid the call will cut out any second now. I look forward to seeing you at the office tomorrow. Have a good night." He didn't wait for her response but, for the first time in his adult life and to his everlasting shame, he took the coward's way out and cut the connection.

# **Chapter 5**

"If you stare at that menu board a few minutes longer, people might get worried you're going to rob them."

Lexa turned at Jack's familiar voice and felt warmth rush to her cheeks at the sparkle in his eyes.

After their awkward interaction yesterday, she hadn't expected him to tease her again.

Or _was_ he? Lexa pulled her lip between her teeth. She hadn't stared _that_ hard. Had she? And anyway, it wasn't her fault that her budget didn't extend to the chicken sandwich and banoffee pie combo advertised as the meal deal of the day in front of the coffee shop in the lobby of Corporate Calls office building. She hadn't received her first paycheck yet, but she certainly had earned her right to a big lunch.

It was only her second day at work, but already she was up to her neck in papers. Papers to read to catch up on the status quo of the project. Papers to sign for non-disclosure agreements. Papers to write when they had a team meeting. Papers to file at the end of the day.

Michael hadn't lied when he had said that the software team needed more manpower for their new _Dancing Bear_ project. What he had conveniently forgotten to tell her: Jack was the project lead and therefore ultimately responsible for Lexa's performance.

Not that the information should make any difference to Lexa's work ethic. Only, somehow it did.

She had been determined to make a good impression since the day she found her contract in the mail, but being under Jack's direct supervision made her _really_ want to step up her game. In the past, he had only seen her at her worst. It was time he saw her at her best. And that meant no more grunting. From here on out, they'd have proper conversations.

"I was just about to head towards the vending machines," she said. "Any suggestions?"

Jack shook his head. "Nobody ever eats that crap. This on the other hand..." He held out a brown paper bag with the logo of the coffee shop he had accused her of ogling. "I feel like I owe you an apology."

He did? So he _had_ realized that he had stared at her butt. It hadn't been an accident after all. Lexa's stomach fluttered.

Unsure what to do with the realization that Jack was at least attracted to her backside if nothing else, she grabbed the bag and inhaled the alluring fragrance tickling her nose. He had bought her the combo. The knowledge that he had ogled her _and_ gone through the trouble of buying her lunch made Lexa feel just a tiny bit giddy.

"Thank you. What about you?" She looked at his empty hands, now buried in the front pockets of his suit trousers, then back at his mouth twisting into a wry smile.

"I have a lunch meeting."

As if on cue, a fresh-faced Real Housewife rushed towards them with Eugene the security guard looking star-struck as he walked by her side.

"Jack." Her voice dripped with saccharine sweetness.

Lexa bit her cheek to keep her mouth from dropping open and felt her elation flee. _She_ was Jack's lunch meeting?

"Mary-Lou. Please meet my colleague Lexa Harrington."

Thinking of Ruby's conviction that posture instantly cured self-consciousness and probably half of the world's incurable diseases, Lexa straightened to her full size of five foot five, trying hard not to feel like the ugly duckling in the room and trying even harder not to be intimidated by the sheer _self-confidence_ of the woman sashaying closer.

"Pleased to meet you, love." Mary-Lou's eyes didn't even stray long enough from their target to be awed by Lexa's new-found composure. Instead, the Housewife wrapped her long, slender fingers around Jack's upper arm as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "Have you booked the steakhouse I was telling you about last time, Jack?" Her voice lowered to a throaty purr. "I'm dying for some fresh meat."

Eugene choked.

Jack winced, but nodded at the question, and Lexa's eyes flicked to the woman's hand. Nope, she hadn't imagined the grape-sized diamond ring on Mary-Lou's wedding finger.

Lexa wondered what Jack's stance was towards married women. Did he share Molly's I'm-not-forcing-them-to-be-unfaithful mentality? And why did the thought bother her so much when she had never complained about her friend acting exactly the same way? It wasn't as if she had a claim on Jack just because he liked her butt. Or because he bought her a sandwich for lunch. For goodness sake, the whole combo probably cost a mere tenth of the prime American beef he had lined up for Mary-Lou. Not that the price was the issue. It was the thought that counted. But who in their right mind would give Lexa even a second glance when they could rest their eyes on a beauty like the Housewife who currently maneuvered Jack deftly in the direction of the exit?

Lexa finally shook herself out of her stupor. The relationship between Jack and his clients should really be none of her business. As she had said to Molly yesterday. She was here to do a job. She was here to get paid. She wasn't here to pine for a hunk. Especially not a hunk, who had once more managed to pair up with the most beautiful woman in the entire building.

***

Despite her stern lecture, the incident was still on Lexa's mind when she walked into her shared apartment that same evening.

"You look beat." Molly stood in the kitchen door mustering her as Lexa peeled out of her soggy coat.

"I'm exhausted. And freezing." _And an ugly duckling compared to Mary-Lou._

Molly's forehead scrunched up and Lexa quickly cast a look out of the window where lazy snowflakes swirled before settling onto the outside windowsill. "The weather has been crazy these last few days."

It was the middle of March, but it felt like the deepest winter. Dark grey clouds hung over the city and a frosty wind blew through the streets.

"They say it's going to be like this for another week." Molly vanished towards the stove, then reappeared with two steaming mugs of tea. She handed one to Lexa before sinking down on the couch and blowing a stream of cool air over her own cup. "I can't wait for spring."

Lexa took a seat next to her friend, leaning her head against the cushions and allowing her eyelids to droop, then slide shut.

She couldn't wait for spring either. Not the slushy days that would follow days of thawing and when the streets would be slippery with melting snow, but the days when flowers would lift their heads out of the earth and the strength of the sun warmed her icy cheeks.

But it wouldn't be all happiness. There were things that Lexa had always hated in spring. Couples coming out of hiding, strolling down the sidewalk and smiling at each other. Their fingers intertwined as if they didn't want to let go. They would be kissing in the park, or feeding each other tidbits of food from picnic hampers. And all of them would be oblivious to the young woman rushing by, feigning indifference. Pretending she wasn't yearning that it was _her_ in a loving embrace.

"That's a deep sigh," Molly commented beside her, unusually quiet.

Lexa lifted her head and attempted a shrug. "I just realized that nothing has changed. It's still the same as three years ago."

"When Jack was with us at university?"

Trust Molly to cut straight to the point.

"Can you remember the girls he brought back to his apartment?"

"The ones who always looked a little bit like you?" Molly regarded her over the rim of the mug.

"They looked nothing like me," Lexa disagreed. "They were stunning."

"As are you."

Lexa raised her eyebrows, jutting her chin towards the mirror on the wall. A full length one that Molly had insisted they needed. Not that Lexa had much use for it. She was notorious for leaving the house without checking her final appearance. Self-preservation was what she liked to call it. She didn't need confirmation that she hadn't suddenly transformed into sex on a stick overnight.

Molly, on the other hand, always made sure every last hair was lying perfectly in place.

Regarding their reflection now, the two of them sitting next to each other, their differences were even more glaringly obvious, and Lexa could objectively say that Molly was nuts.

Even in her comfy pants and drinking hot tea, Molly was out-of-this-world gorgeous. Lexa in her business attire, on the other hand, could probably classify as the 'cleans up nicely' type.

Molly followed her gaze then looked back at her. "Exactly as I said. You look positively lovely. You're just not hyping it up with paint. Do you even know how many guys adore the brown-haired, blue-eyed type? You're one lucky girl."

Lexa shook her head. "I'll never be as beautiful as _her_."

"Who?"

"The client that Jack is working with. She's..." Lexa exhaled an exasperated breath.

"...a high maintenance, spa-package kind of woman?" Molly asked, eliciting a reluctant chuckle from Lexa.

"Yes, she is that. But—"

"Listen, girlfriend," Molly cut her off. "Not every guy is dreaming of breaking their bank on a gold digger. I certainly wouldn't have pegged Jack for the type."

But how could he not be the type? Lexa wondered quietly. "Even her voice, her every gesture, her appearance, it all spells pure sex. What man could withstand?"

"A man in love?"

Lexa huffed a laugh. Jack was certainly not that.

***

The next morning, Lexa stood in front of the mirror calling herself all kinds of a fool.

Hadn't she started dancing because attitude was more important than looks? Wasn't she practicing her body-rolling exercises every day because she believed allure and sexiness could be learned?

Wasn't she trying to spice up her life because she felt everything about her was too plain, too ordinary? And yet here she was, obsessing over the one feature that separated her from the masses.

Lexa touched the twin-ridges marring her cheek.

Over the years, the scars had become part of her personality. A reminder that life was a gift, that she should seize each day and try to make it her best.

The physical pain had long since faded. The emotional wounds would never completely go away. But she had crawled out of the darkness and back into the light. She had worked hard on overcoming the incident in the first few months after her release from the hospital. She was proud of her determination and strength.

Only sometimes, like today, she wondered 'what if'? What if she had never been slashed in that bar?

Would she have shed her nerdy image, finally free to smile without braces? Would she have found her confidence that night?

Would Jack have seen her? Would she have flirted? Could she have had one night with him?

Most importantly, would she be a different person entirely, more confident in the knowledge that she could be loved?

The doctors had told her a long time ago that 'what-if' games weren't helpful. And sensible Lexa had adhered to their advice.

But Mary-Lou had struck a chord when she had wrapped her fingers around Jack's arm the day before.

So what if Lexa felt a teeny, tiny bit outclassed by the blonde bombshell. Who said she couldn't wonder? Just for one day?

Covering up the scars wouldn't make the past go away. Nor would it help her make another first impression on Jack. But maybe, after four years of determination, she had earned the right to be weak. To be desperate. To surrender.

Since the moment she had left that hospital, she had refused to hide her face. She couldn't let _him_ win like that. So she had pulled herself together. She had gone on with her life. She had proved she could cope with anything life threw at her. But Lexa was tired of constantly fighting. Of having to be strong every single second of every day.

Normal people weren't perfect. They were allowed to struggle every now and then.

Why was it that as soon as Lexa let herself slip the smallest bit, everyone assumed it was because of the attack? She just needed a break. It wasn't as if the world would come to an end if she cut herself some slack. It wasn't as if her parents would see.

Giving in to the urge, although she knew she would regret it by tomorrow at the latest, Lexa rummaged for the heavy-duty concealer she so rarely used. She liked to think she was tougher than this. But today she didn't feel tough. She felt unlovable. And she felt tired of being alone.

She checked her final appearance, a hollow feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. The girl staring back at her was a different person. Attractive, yes. But it felt like she was wearing a mask.

Such a shame that she felt too naked this morning to allow her real self to be seen by the world.

Taking a last deep breath and her navy-colored umbrella, Lexa headed out to face another day.

***

He noticed the difference right away. It was subtle, but there. A clear indication of how closely he watched her. He couldn't seem to be able to stop. He saw everything, the grace in her movements, the pout on her lips, the flare of her hips that made his hands itch to touch her. But it wasn't what he saw that had his lips pressing into a thin, white line. It was what she was trying to hide.

Where Lexa normally carried her scars with dignity, she had certainly done her best to conceal them today. Jack thought he knew why. He had seen her face when she had watched Mary-Lou flounce towards them the day before. Right after he had bought Lexa her lunch, no less.

It had felt so good to hand her the bag. To take care of her again, after such a long time. She had smiled at him with her big, blue eyes and, for a moment, he could actually believe that she felt it too. That yearning that he hadn't been able to shake since that year that they had lived just one wall away from each other.

Then Mary-Lou had bulldozed in and the moment was gone. Self-doubt had crept into Lexa's eyes.

Jack hated the self-doubt. He had noticed it often in the first few months after the attack. Every time Lexa had seen an attractive girl, her hand would involuntarily inch towards her cheek.

It made Jack's insides twist with fury to think about what she had been put through.

The bastard had gotten off way too lightly. A few months' anger management in a psychiatric hospital, rehab, and a laughable fee payable to Lexa for personal suffering.

Lexa, on the other hand, had to live with the consequences of the attack for the rest of her life. And still, he had never once heard her complain.

Jack ached to tell her how much he admired that. Admired _her_. To him, there was nothing sexier than a woman who refused to resign.

Only, today she had, and he wanted to rage with the unfairness of it all. This defeated version wasn't the Lexa he knew.

He waited until she came to a stop in front of him and tilted her head back to look into his eyes.

The need to touch her was overwhelming and he allowed his thumb to rub the side of her face, where he knew the scars were supposed to be.

The sensitive pad of his fingers tingled with sensation at the contact and he couldn't help but wonder how her skin would feel against his lips, his tongue.

"Why the camouflage?" he asked, resisting the urge to cup her cheek. To pull her into his body. He wanted to take away all the hurts he knew she had had to suffer through. It had to be exhausting to constantly be so determined not to let one motherfucker destroy her life. If only she'd let him be her strength.

He saw her tense under his light touch, her eyes darting around the hallway and forced himself to let her go, conscious that he was overstepping his boundaries. Again.

Giving her the space he should have afforded her in the first place, Jack looked around to see if anybody had witnessed the interaction. He wasn't going to let office gossip add to Lexa's hurt. Especially not when it was his own inability to keep his distance that had put them in this position in the first place.

Thankfully, the hallway was mostly empty and they were partially concealed by a bend in the wall. He took a tiny step back and tilted his head.

"I had a bad scar day."

Jack felt the corner of his mouth kick up despite the delicate subject.

"Like a bad hair day?" he asked.

She nodded her head.

"That's a shame." He tried to keep his voice light. "I like it better when you don't cover them up."

She gnawed at her lip, looking so uncertain his chest constricted with sympathy. "It's hard to see them every day," she confessed her voice little more than a whisper. "To know that I can never be perfect."

Jack felt his hands clench. "Nobody is." Why did she have to put herself under so much pressure?

"You are." Her eyes slid embarrassed towards the floor.

A snort escaped him. "You think? You're wrong." He pushed up his sleeve to expose his left underarm and heard her surprised intake of breath.

"He cut you too?"

"Only a shallow slash. I could have avoided it if I wasn't so angry." He shrugged his shoulders. As far as he was concerned, his own injury was water under the bridge.

Obviously not for Lexa. She hesitantly reached out to touch the white line, running all the way to the base of his thumb. Her fingers traced gently along his skin and Jack had to bite back a groan. How could this one small woman affect him so much?

She kept up the sweet torture, making him wish she would trace other areas. His chest. His abdomen. Lower. _Fuck._

He stilled her hand on his arm with his own. "Does this mean I'm now flawed in your eyes?" he asked, his voice unusually hoarse from the myriad emotions chasing through his body.

Her outraged look gave him the answer. Then understanding dawned in her gaze. "That's different." She shook her head. "You are a man."

"And you're the strongest woman I've met in my life. You'll deal with it. I believe in you."

He must have done something right. Because her mouth softened and her shoulders relaxed. "Nobody has ever said that to me."

The soft statement squeezed all the air from his lungs until he could barely breathe. How could her family and friends have been so callous?

As if she could read his thoughts, she quickly continued. "They were there for me. They supported me. But I-I somehow knew they always waited for me to break."

"I'm sorry you had to go through this," he said.

"I'm sorry you got hurt because of me," Lexa answered, biting her lip.

"I'm not." He gently pulled the flesh from between her teeth. "I'm just glad I was there to save you in time."

# **Chapter 6**

On Thursday, Lexa watched as the entire Corporate Calls workforce gathered in their biggest conference room to help brainstorm the best design for the website and software for the _Dancing Bear_ project.

As it was a company-wide meeting, Michael stood at the front of the room, ready to note down their ideas on an old-fashioned flip chart, while Jack, as the project lead, sat next to him, looking delicious with his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top button of his collar undone to reveal a glimpse of tanned skin.

As if he felt her stare, Jack turned in her direction, and Lexa quickly slid her gaze away.

She was still disconcerted by what had happened the day before. The way he had spoken to her. The way he had touched her. It had felt... almost intimate. For one moment, while she was standing across from him, she could have sworn he wanted her. But that was ridiculous. Why would someone like Jack want _her_ when he could have any woman he chose?

No, it was more likely that he simply cared for her. For some reason he still felt responsible for her. The way he had felt responsible for her after the attack. For a whole year he had been there for her, acting concerned. Caring. Never showing her more than brotherly affection.

Why should he suddenly want her now? She hadn't changed _that_ much since their university days. And as desperately as she wished for her personality makeover plan to work, Lexa doubted a single pole dance class had turned her from an ordinary girl-next-door into a fiery vixen that Jack couldn't resist.

No, she had to be delusional reading attraction into his kindness.

She was better off sticking with what she knew. Her _professional_ development. The chance to turn Corporate Calls into a stepping stone for her future career. The opportunity to use this job to stay independent from her parents. That's what she should really be focusing on.

Why did she have so much trouble remembering all that every time she fell into Jack's beautiful eyes?

"Thanks, everyone, for attending," Michael said at that moment, providing a welcome distraction from her unproductive thoughts. "Let's start with the website color scheme. Any ideas?"

There were plenty. The guys mostly recommended blue, green or yellow, while the women joined in with more daring combinations. Burgundy-wheat. Amethyst-black. Or, Lexa's favorite, atomic tangerine. Even she hadn't heard of a color like that.

Michael recorded everything without batting an eye.

In the end, the votes called for taupe and peach. An elegant blend tailored to a predominantly female audience.

Next was the website layout.

"My turn." Jack pulled his laptop out of his bag and hooked it up to the projector on the table, his sure hands handling the complicated setup of equipment easily.

Lexa gave herself a hard shake. Was she mooning over his _hands_? Again? She needed to have her head examined.

"I've put together an initial template of all the pages that have to go online."

He showed them the welcome page, registration and login module, adding the agreed upon shades of brown and orange as he spoke.

When colleagues started to suggest other improvements, Jack implemented those as well.

Before their eyes, the website transformed.

"I like it," Michael finally said when everyone was happy and there were only minor changes to make. "Let's move on to the voting software that will tie into the backend of the website and phone application. How far along are we with that?"

An uneasy silence descended on the room.

Michael turned to his brother. "What's going on, Jack?"

"There's a problem with user acceptance testing. We all know our software too well. Unless we hire someone who doesn't know our processes, or ask the Garnetts to take over the task, we run the risk of overlooking things."

Lexa shifted in her seat. "What if I test the software?"

All eyes turned to her. She suppressed the instinctive urge to slouch. Hadn't she just told herself to focus on her professional development? This was an opportunity she couldn't afford to miss.

Determined, Lexa pushed her shoulders back and held her head high as she pressed ahead with as firm a voice as she could muster.

"I'm unfamiliar with Corporate Calls processes, just like your average customer out there. I also haven't been involved in any of the hands on programming. I wouldn't be able to give you recommendations on how to fix certain technical faults, but I can highlight issues I come across and tell you where the software is counterintuitive."

Michael rubbed his chin. "That could work. Jack?"

"I think it's a brilliant idea." The smile he gave her made her heart slam hard against her ribcage.

"It's settled then."

Lexa laid her trembling hands against her lips to hide the grin spreading on her face.

She might never be able to impress Jack with her looks the way Mary-Lou did, but she sure as hell had impressed him and his brother with her proactive suggestion. _And_ she had won her own piece of work. An important piece too, if she understood correctly.

As a user acceptance tester, she was the last fort before the software would be approved by Michael and Jack. It was a great responsibility.

"I think we've covered everything." Michael swept his gaze across the room.

Affirmative nods and mumbling erupted around the table.

"Good work, guys."

He caught Lexa's eye as she gathered her things to follow the other team members out of the room. "Good work, newbie."

Lexa ducked her head. "Thanks. I was starting to feel bad for not contributing anything to this meeting when the topic came up."

He chuckled. "Why not suggest some website colors? It would have been easier and a lot less work for you."

Lexa shrugged. "I guess I didn't want to be known as cyan cobalt blue or dark candy apple red for the rest of my days."

Michael barked a laugh. "I'm glad that's how you feel. A fancy name isn't half as helpful to us as a user acceptance tester. You have definitely earned your welcome drinks tomorrow."

"Welcome drinks?" she asked surprised

"Did Jack not tell you? It's somewhat of a tradition here. The first Friday after someone new joins the team we all go out for welcome drinks. I hope you're up for it. Unless..." His eyes strayed to the scars on her cheek that, once more, were visible through the light cover of her every-day makeup.

Lexa lifted her hand, then let it drop to her side. Jack was right. She shouldn't hide who she really was. "I'll be there. Thanks for organizing the outing."

"My pleasure." He nodded at her, then turned to another employee who had been patiently waiting his turn.

Lexa finally gathered her bag. She had made herself indispensable for the project and would be the center of a party tomorrow. Not a bad start for a week of trying to spice up her life. Maybe all these body rolling exercises she did at home had an effect after all.

***

_Then again, maybe not_ , Lexa thought hours later as she collapsed onto her back on the cold, hard floor of the pole studio, limbs spread out, her heart pumping in time with the music.

It was the second week of their _Beginners_ course and, if the warm-up was any indication, Lexa hadn't made any progress at all. Her legs were limp like spaghetti noodles, her arms trembled worse than Molly's special fruit Jell-O. Warm-up of death indeed.

"Heels on, girls." Ruby clapped her hands together in an attempt to rouse them and got nowhere fast. "Today we'll learn how to climb a pole."

Lexa groaned. "How are we supposed to climb a smooth metal rod, when we can't even stand up straight?"

"This might help." Gigi rolled a can towards Lexa, who pulled herself up far enough to eye the container in disbelief.

"Shaving cream?"

Gigi shrugged. "It's what the girls at the club use."

"She's right," Ruby called from the front. "Give it a try."

Lexa squeezed a blob of the gel onto her palm. "Feels odd." She pressed her hands together. "Really sticky."

"That's what you want," Ruby said. "The stickier the better. Rub it all over your legs and the top of your feet. When you're done look at me." She waited until all eyes settled on her. "To climb, put your right arm as high as you can. Make sure to pull your shoulder towards the floor. Put your left arm in a ninety-degree angle gripping the pole. Lay your right shin and left calf along the pole. Keep your muscles tight. And girls." Ruby eyeballed each one of them. "Don't forget to smile." Her gaze landed on Gigi. "It shows the competition that you've got some teeth. At the same time, you'll reel the guys in with your positive attitude. Your turn."

It looked so simple.

It wasn't.

Lexa bit the inside of her cheek as the cold metal dug into her skin.

"Bruises, here they come," Gigi muttered beside her, a puff of air rushing from her lungs, as her heels thudded dully on the wooden floor. Gigi's forehead scrunched up. "I can't smile while I'm doing this."

"Pole virgin," Tracy sniffed from the top of her pole.

Angie spun in a lazy circle, flicking her strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder and looking like a Scottish warrior goddess in heels. "A virginal slut. Do tell, Tracy, how does that work?"

Gigi's eyes widened as she slapped a hand over her mouth but couldn't quite muffle the giggles escaping her throat. "I don't think anybody ever called me a slut in defense."

Lexa snorted.

Tracy huffed.

"Girls, you're supposed to be practicing." Ruby gave them a stern look.

"We're team building," Angie deadpanned, sending Gigi into another fit. "Anyway. I've mastered this and it's making me dizzy. Let's move on to something more interesting." She jumped off the pole, looking expectantly at Ruby.

The pole instructor heaved a deep sigh. "You, Angelina Masterson, will be the death of me one day."

"I don't know, Ruby Red. You don't have the right equipment for my specialty."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"La petite mort."

***

Lexa pushed through the glass doors of the pole studio and out into the rain. She had forgotten her umbrella at work in her haste to be on time.

Hearing her mother's admonishing voice in her mind, telling her she was bound to get sick if she made the long way home without some extra protection, Lexa pulled the hood of her jacket up and dashed the five blocks back to the high-rise construction that housed the Corporate Calls offices. The back of her neck prickled when she used her access pass to enter the building and she shot an uneasy glance over her shoulder, taking in the quiet street behind her. Evenly spaced streetlights reflected in great puddles of rain on the wet tarmac, a takeout sign flashed across the road. A lonely figure walked towards the river shore, his hands pushed into the pockets of his coat.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Her imagination was running wild.

Feeling foolish for allowing the gloomy weather to spook her, Lexa stepped into the lobby, relieved to see that Eugene was still sitting at his post. A smile creased his weathered cheeks as she approached.

"I forgot my umbrella."

He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. "Elevator Five will take you up."

She nodded her thanks, walking past his desk and riding the elevator to the twenty-second floor.

She found the umbrella almost at once and made her way back down, her earlier scare forgotten.

Waving at Eugene, she stepped through the revolving doors, a gust of wind blowing hair in her face. She ducked her head, keeping to the relative protection of the overhang protruding from the building. She had just rounded the corner when a voice startled her into looking up.

"You made the girls hate me."

Lexa almost jumped out of her skin. "Tracy? What on earth are you doing here?"

"Talking to you." Tracy crossed her arms in front of her chest and braced her legs.

Lexa felt her eyes narrow. "Did you follow me?"

Tracy shrugged her shoulders, a mulish tilt to her mouth.

"You couldn't have told me this at the studio?" Lexa asked.

"Where you have your minions to back you up?"

"My minions? You're ridiculous, Tracy."

"You embarrassed me last week. Now your presence alone incites them to make fun of me."

Lexa snorted. "As if you need any help inciting people."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means? You're rude. What you say is insulting. No wonder others lash out at you."

"You're the instigator."

"No, Tracy, you are the instigator." Lexa tried to push past the other girl, but Tracy shoved her back against the wall.

"Listen," she said, pointing a finger in Lexa's face. Lexa clenched her teeth to not just ram Tracy out of the way. "I have more power than you think. I'm running a blog with ten-thousand clicks a month. I have a whole pool of loyal followers that I can turn against you, the way you turn these pole girls against me. One post that you're making my life hell and there'll be all kinds of allegations about you landing in your employer's inbox. You'll be out of a job quicker than you can blink."

Lexa felt anger rise inside her at the threat. She needed her job. Needed the independence it afforded her. She wasn't going to let a spiteful witch like Tracy try to take that away from her.

Keeping her temper leashed, but barely, Lexa got right back in the other girl's face. "No, you listen to me, Tracy. And listen closely. I don't care what your issue is or why you think you can walk over anybody you choose to. I'm not your doormat. I don't care about you enough to instigate anybody to do anything. If you want to keep being a bitch, I couldn't care less, but don't you dare _attempt_ to mess with my job. The last person who tried to destroy my life ended up in a psych ward. I have no qualms sending you there too. Now get out of my way and leave me alone, or I swear I'll kick your butt from here to Christmas."

Lexa pushed past the other girl, hands fisted at her side and too angry to notice that Tracy had gone decidedly pale under the harsh security lights of the office building.

***

Michael stepped out of the shadows, barely holding back a laugh. Who would have thought his new intern could kick ass like this?

Working late, he had been waiting out the worst of the downpour under the relative cover of the office building's overhang, when he had seen the girl – Tracy – loitering outside the building. He had been about to confront Tracy when she had jumped Lexa with her tirade.

Michael sure hadn't seen it coming, but he finally saw why Jack was so attracted to the girl. She wasn't really as shy as he had pegged her. She had some spunk. He admired that.

Michael had always hoped Jack would have someone who could keep his brother on his toes. He had even introduced Jack to some girls he thought may fit the bill.

He could have saved his time. Because since the first meeting when he had laid eyes on Lexa and Jack together in his office, it had become glaringly apparent why his brother had barely dated in the last few years. He was in love with the girl he had saved back at the university.

Oh yes, Michael had connected the dots as soon as he saw the scars on Lexa's cheek. The only thing he couldn't figure out was why Jack was pussyfooting around asking her out. He wasn't usually too shy to tell a woman he wanted her.

Of course, there was a possibility Jack had already taken that step without Michael knowing. But Michael would swear Jack wasn't getting anywhere fast with the girl from the way Lexa had blushed at the smallest compliment from Jack during the last meeting and the restless energy his brother projected when he thought nobody was watching. Maybe Michael needed to lend a helping hand. Nudge the two of them in the right direction. He would certainly appreciate the gesture if he was ever in the same situation. Though, he would never be. The courtship of his intended would be straight-forward and to the point. If only he could find the right candidate. If only he could be so lucky.

# **Chapter 7**

On Friday morning, Lexa entered the Corporate Calls building and cursed the gods – and Murphy – when she saw the lifts were out of order.

She had sore muscles from hell, after the warm-up in pole class the day before, and a bruise the size of her fist on her shin. To climb twenty-two flights of stairs on top of that was almost more than she could take.

_You can do this_ , she tried to psych herself up, the way she had seen sportsmen prepare before a big game, but with less moaning and groaning. _It's good for your endurance._

The pep-talk didn't help. A fortifying sip of her chocolate milkshake to-go – protein supposedly supported the recovery process of sore muscles – didn't do much either.

Resorting to a feminine grumble, Lexa started to climb the stairs, but froze when she heard voices in the stairwell above her.

"...could touch these muscles all day. Are you sure you're running late?"

The chocolaty drink lost all taste in Lexa's mouth. She would recognize that sugar-coated drawl anywhere. Mary-Lou.

And she was clearly talking to Jack.

They had to be standing on the platform directly above her. Lexa pressed further into the wall.

"I am. They're probably waiting for me even now. But I have reserved us a table at Giovanni's again." Jack's voice.

"Did you ask for a booth in the back?"

"I did."

"Good boy."

Lexa felt her teeth grit. There were perfectly suitable conference rooms here at the office. There was no need to spend _professional_ lunch meetings continuously in dark booths in romantic restaurants. Unless they weren't so professional after all.

The thought hurt more than she cared to admit, considering Jack was in no way _hers_. Considering she already _knew_ Mary-Lou was on the chase and was likely one Italian dish away from getting what she wanted.

Or maybe they served dessert before the mains today, Lexa thought, when the rustle of fabric over skin broke through the quiet. Lexa heard a husky sigh.

_Seriously?_ The two of them were getting it on in the hallway? As if she had needed any more evidence that fantasizing about Jack's undying love in the secret of her room at night was beyond foolish.

Had she really been hung up for days about the fact that he had ogled her butt? Had she not learned from her myriad of rejections over the years that men could appreciate a woman's backside without meaning to proclaim that they wanted to go steady? And stroking her cheek in brotherly concern? That had been hardly a declaration of Jack's undying desire to get into her pants. Lexa exhaled.

If she really needed to know what unbridled lust sounded like – the echo in this stairwell was currently giving her a better show than any surround sound system.

As if on cue, another moan travelled Lexa's way and she felt her fingers tightening on the cup in her hand at the thought of Jack's hands roaming over Mary-Lou's perfectly toned thighs, shaping her hour-glass figure as he lost himself in the feel of her cushiony lips.

Carefully setting down her half-empty milkshake because she really didn't trust herself not to target practice with the contents, Lexa stomped up the stairs. She willed herself not to look. Not to care.

She heard a surprised gasp and... Too late. The image was forever branded in her mind. Mary-Lou was crowding Jack in the corner, one elegant hand splayed over his chest. Her skirt was hitched up to a nearly indecent level as she devoured him with hungry eyes.

"Lexa—"

_Keep going._

The jealousy Lexa told herself she didn't feel propelled her up to the twenty-second floor in one go. For the rest of the morning she managed to stay hidden behind stacks of papers telling herself repeatedly that this was really none of her business and Jack could eat his lunch wherever and with whomever he pleased.

Even so, she couldn't help but sneak a glance when Jack walked back into the office at two o'clock in the afternoon, sporting a red smudge on his left cheek.

It was a good sign, Lexa reasoned, right after her heart hit the floor with a thud.

If he had been truly getting it on with the self-confessed carnivore, Mary-Lou wouldn't bother with Jack's cheek. At least not _that_ cheek, right? _Right?_

His eyes caught hers and she ducked back behind her computer. She really needed to let this _go_.

***

By the end of Friday's workday, Lexa had dodged Jack at least five times. She didn't want to hear what he had to say.

_Don't tell anybody_ , was probably high on his list. Not that he had to spell that out for her. Fornication with a client wasn't something to shout from the rooftops in any corporate environment.

At least she had shaken off her strange melancholy. Mostly due to the fact that Molly was currently bouncing around their apartment like a rubber ball. Molly loved the thought of anyone going out and she was excited that the company had arranged for an introductory night for Lexa.

Lexa, on the other hand, wasn't so sure if she wanted to go. She suspected the introductory night for her was really more of an excuse for everyone else to get drunk. Not that she could use that as an excuse to stay home.

She sat through another of Molly's endless hair and make-up sessions, surprised when she actually managed to recognize herself afterwards.

"You outdid yourself this time."

Molly gave her a blinding smile. "Contrary to what you may think, I know the difference between a girl's night out and impressing your boss."

That she did, Lexa thought, fingering the understated pearls that had been a gift from Molly's mother for her graduation and looking at her softly smoky eyes in the mirror.

"Do you want to come with me?" she asked at a sudden urge. She couldn't imagine facing Jack alone.

"It's your night with the people from Corporate Calls," Molly hedged. "I don't want to intrude."

"As you say, it's my night. I should be able to bring someone along. It's not like they will discuss confidential business at the bar. If you feel uncomfortable, you can always leave. Please? I don't want to walk home by myself in the dark."

It was the excuse Molly needed and Lexa knew it.

"Safety in numbers right, Molly?"

Molly actually squealed. "I'm going out. Give me ten minutes."

She barely needed eight, and the gorgeous apparition emerging from Molly's bedroom looked as if she had taken hours. Molly had a talent of turning nothing into breathtaking. It was one of the skills Molly's mother had made certain her daughter mastered at a young age. Joana Rogers wouldn't have needed to bother. Molly was far better than nothing to begin with.

Having opened her demurely braided hair, Molly's honey-colored waves surrounded her head like a halo, her eyes were smoky – similar to Lexa's – but unlike Lexa she had opted for a blood-red dress that only Molly could pull off for an official get together.

"How do you do it?" Lexa asked, taking in the silver heels, sparkly clutch and the big bangles around Molly's wrist. "You look like you're going to the Oscars. If I wore the same I'd look as if I was going to earn some money."

Molly waved her off. "You're just as beautiful, dressed up the way you are. You have understated chic down to an art."

"Well, guys seem to be going for the 'in your face type' a whole lot more often than the understated chic type," Lexa grumbled, thinking of Mary-Lou.

"Not the right guys," Molly said and Lexa looked up because it sounded so sad.

But her friend had already slipped back into her happy persona, the frown that had formed between her brows quickly smoothing out. She hooked her arm through Lexa's, giving Lexa another blinding smile. "I say we look both pretty scorching tonight. The guys won't know what hit them."

Lexa hoped that Molly was right. Because, catching Jack red-handed with Mary-Lou had at last driven home the fact that the man of her dreams was certainly not dreaming of her. It was time to let go of a fantasy that would never come true. And if she had to have sex with a stranger to free herself of her ridiculous infatuation – well, she had finally reached her breaking point.

# **Chapter 8**

The bar was expensive, loud and crowded, but not all that different from the seedier student clubs Lexa and Molly normally frequented. It didn't seem to matter if the guys wore ragged jeans or a suit. Drunk, they were all closer to animals than humans.

The two of them finally made it through the throng of hands 'accidentally' touching their butt and to the Corporate Calls group at the back. At least here, the crowd was a little bit thinner.

They were greeted with hellos and cheers and Lexa saw that she hadn't been the only one to bring a friend along.

"Did you find the place alright?" Michael asked, handing her a glass of champagne before turning to Molly.

"Yes, thanks. Michael this is my friend Molly. Molly, Michael."

"Nice to meet you, Molly."

Lexa thought it was the first time she had actually seen someone look into Molly's eyes instead of her cleavage while being introduced.

Molly seemed to have noticed it too, because her eyes narrowed and her chest puffed out even further.

"My pleasure, Michael."

Lexa barely held back a laugh. Her friend was the most contradictory person Lexa had ever met in her life. One minute she was complaining that guys only wanted her for her body, the next minute she was unhappy when someone finally proved immune to her womanly wiles.

Thankfully, Michael seemed oblivious to the tension that had gripped Molly's body _and_ to Lexa's urge to scan the crowd every five seconds, despite her resolve to forget the infuriating male who didn't even seem to have made it to her welcome drinks.

Was he even now taking what Mary-Lou offered?

Gritting her teeth in an attempt to force the annoying thoughts out of her head, Lexa greeted a number of non-employees before pretending to listen to Michael's stories from Corporate Calls's early days.

"I think I should mingle with my other colleagues, too." Lexa excused herself when there was a lull in the conversation and as Molly accepted a second glass of champagne from the bartender. "Are you coming, Mol?"

"I'm good." Molly nodded towards a separate group of guys. "I'll be over there if you need me."

Lexa thought she saw Michael's jaw tighten infinitesimally, but the movement was too small for her to be sure.

"I'll join you later," Lexa said, ignoring the surprised look her BFF gave her. She watched Molly saunter away before scanning the crowd surreptitiously. Again.

He still wasn't here.

Lexa told herself it wasn't disappointment she was feeling. How could she be disappointed when she didn't even want to see him?

***

Lexa was deep in discussion with one of the girls from the team when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder and turned around.

"Sorry for being late. Project work." Jack held out a strawberry vodka. "Welcome to the team."

Lexa did a double take, temporarily forgetting her ire. "How did you know?"

"Molly. She said it was your favorite drink."

"It is." She took the fruity cocktail from his hand, ignoring the small thrill running through her body when their fingertips touched. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

God, weren't they courteous. And obviously already out of small-talk topics.

His hand on her shoulder slid to the back of her arm, the touch burning into her even through her clothes. Lexa swallowed, her toes curling against her will. She tried to step away. But before she could move, their eyes locked and unwelcome awareness surged through her body.

"Mary-Lou." _Think of Mary-Lou._ She had meant it as a reminder for herself but somehow the name slipped out of her mouth.

_Oh god._ She downed her drink in one big gulp, chewing frantically on the three strawberry quarters the bartender had dropped into her glass. There, that should keep her mouth occupied for a while. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for Jack.

"Lexa—"

"Jack," one of the Corporate Calls managers called at that moment from across the bar and Lexa had never been so glad for an interruption in her life.

For a second, Jack looked torn. Then he squeezed her arm and moved away to talk to the man.

"What happened?"

Lexa turned to see Molly glide up to her.

"I need another drink." She set the empty glass on the counter.

Molly's eyebrows hitched almost up to her hairline. " _You_ need another drink?"

"And a sit down. These heels are killing me." Heels that Molly had insisted she wear.

Molly motioned to a couple of bar stools off to the side.

Lexa hobbled over and sank down, burying her flaming face in her hands.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Lexa shook her head. "Later."

"Alright, girlfriend. Then I have a question."

Lexa lifted her head to look at her friend. "About?"

"Your employer."

It was Lexa's turn to look surprised. "What about him?"

"Is he always this stuck-up?"

"You're calling him stuck-up because he didn't look at your boobs?"

"Hey, they are nice boobs. Men love them." A crease appeared in Molly's forehead. "I wonder if he's gay."

"Michael? I doubt it. He probably wanted to be polite."

"Men aren't polite creatures."

"Maybe he's one of the right ones you were telling me about."

"Doubt it," Molly grumbled. "And these two aren't either."

Lexa followed Molly's gaze over her shoulder to see a couple of young guns sidling up to them. "Hey girls. How're you doing tonight? Can we get you a drink?"

Molly batted her eyelashes. She was definitely back in her element, decent guys or not. Lexa shrugged her shoulder and – thinking of Ruby's advice on how to reel the guys in – flashed a blinding smile. "Why not. We would love your company."

The look on Molly's face, as Lexa for the first time in their combined history drove the flirt-attack, was priceless.

Lexa accepted the glass of champagne with what she hoped was a graceful gesture and almost spit half of it down her front when guy number one said, "Heaven must miss an angel," while blatantly staring at Molly's double Ds.

She was saved by guy number two who laid a hand on her back, startling her into swallowing and inhaling at the same time. Lexa coughed, feeling water gathering in her eyes.

"You okay?" guy number two asked, forgetting to pat her back as he paid rapt attention to her quickly rising and falling chest. "If you pass out, I can give you mouth-to-mouth."

That made Lexa and Molly dissolve into laughter. Good god, where had these two crawled out from?

They were still gasping for air when suddenly two pairs of shoulders pushed their suitors out of the way.

Numbskull's hand fell from Lexa's back while a big chest blocked Dimwit from looking at Molly's boobs.

"Hey." Their complaint sounded almost coordinated. As was the dark response.

"Party's over, guys."

"Are you alright?"

Lexa looked up and swallowed hard at the protective look in Jack's eyes. _Brotherly concern_ , she reminded herself. Only his mesmerizing gaze burning into hers didn't feel brotherly at all.

Confused and tired of guessing and second-guessing herself, she nodded, sliding her gaze away, realizing that Michael was fussing over Molly, who didn't take the departure of their suitors with half as much grace as Lexa had.

"That was my entertainment for the night you just scared away," she rounded on Michael. Michael's brow climbed on his forehead.

"Really? That dumbass? Selling yourself a little short are you?" And he gave Molly the slow once-over her friend had so desperately missed earlier. Only now it served to incite Molly's wrath even further.

"Don't look at me like that, asshole." She seemed to realize what she had just said a second later, because all her blood drained from her face and her head whipped around to Lexa. "Oh my god, I'm sorry," she said, which in turn seemed to piss Michael off.

"Don't apologize because you insulted your best friend's employer. Apologize because you think you should."

Still whiter than Lexa had ever seen her, Molly grabbed her handbag from the bar and stood. She turned to Lexa and Lexa could see her eyes fill with tears.

Jeez, she had never seen Molly cry before. "I'm so sorry," Molly said, "I better leave now." And she dashed out of the bar.

Grabbing her own bag to run after her, Lexa heard Michael mutter behind her. "I didn't mean she should apologize to her."

***

"I am so, so sorry." Molly sat on the bed, mascara streaking her cheeks.

"Don't worry, Mol. They won't fire me." At least Lexa hoped they wouldn't now that she had such an important role in the project. She hadn't actually had the chance to talk to Michael or Jack yet. She had only replied to a text from Jack confirming that they were back home safely. The fact that he worried about them roaming the streets at night had confused Lexa further. This was New York. Women went out all the time. Guys didn't worry unless it was their girlfriends who were walking in potentially dangerous neighborhoods. And Lexa should really stop thinking about this now because her friend needed her. As if on cue, another sob shook Molly.

"You don't know that." She twisted the soaked handkerchief in her hand. "I don't know what got into me. I knew this was an important night for you and I messed it up."

"You didn't mess it up, Mol. Although you should probably work on letting someone down easily."

Molly gave her a watery laugh. "I just... I don't know. He must have pushed one of my buttons and I-I didn't like it."

'Didn't like it' was a mild description for the explosion that had followed. But Lexa said nothing as Molly carried on.

"Thing is... deep down, I didn't mind that he scared them away. They were idiots."

"Yes, they were."

"I'm so sorry I messed up your night." Another tear spilled over.

"Don't be silly, Molly." Lexa hugged her friend. "You provided the perfect excuse for me to go home."

"And why would you want to leave your own party?" Molly demanded, looking at her through watery eyes. "You've been behaving odd all day."

Lexa wanted to dodge the question. Desperately. But Molly's curiosity seemed to have at least temporarily stopped her crying. And if she could get her friend to think of something that would keep the tears from falling, Lexa was all for it. Even if it meant she had to divulge another embarrassing detail about her life. It wasn't as if Molly didn't already know enough.

"Because I'm a fool." Lexa kneaded the comforter between her fingers.

"Don't tell me you grunted at Jack again."

Lexa shook her head in despair. "Much worse. I mentioned Mary-Lou."

"Mary-Lou? As in the dance show host?"

Lexa groaned.

"What does she have to do with you and Jack?"

"She's the client on our project that I told you about. Jack's the team-lead."

"Jack is working with Mary-Lou?" Molly blinked, her eyes huge, but thankfully crystal clear once more. "No wonder he turns up almost three hours late. The woman is probably running him ragged."

Lexa frowned. "How would you know?"

"I once met her at one of my parents' functions. I swear the woman doesn't know the meaning of the word 'no'."

Lexa plucked the soaked tissue from Molly's grasp and handed her a new one. "I'm not sure if 'no' is what Jack is saying," she confessed.

Molly blew her nose noisily. "It has to be. Believe me. The way Jack's looking at you when he thinks nobody's watching. Or, hell, even when everybody's watching. He's not interested in her."

Lexa shook her head, an instant denial on the tip of her tongue. But the words died on her lips when she saw the conviction in Molly's expression.

"I saw the way he cared for you four years ago and I suspected he might have a crush on you," Molly continued. "But watching him today. The way he asked for your favorite drink. The way his touch lingered. It's unmistakable. The man doesn't even see anybody else."

Lexa exhaled a breath. "Then why was he feeling up Mary-Lou in the hallway earlier today?"

Molly stared. "No way. Are you sure?"

"I was walking past them. Of course I'm sure."

Molly pursed her lips, a frown marring her usually flawless features. "What exactly did you see? Was he grabbing her butt?"

"No."

"Her tits?"

Lexa winced. "Molly."

"Answer me."

"No."

"Then what was he grabbing?" Molly demanded.

Now that Lexa thought about it, he hadn't touched Mary-Lou at all. His hands had actually been angled rather uncomfortably over his shoulders, as if she had jumped him, and he didn't know what to do with them. The look on his face had been... embarrassment? Could Molly be right? Could Lexa have read the situation wrong in her conviction that the two of them were romantically involved?

"I see not all is as it seemed," Molly commented, clearly taking in Lexa's confused expression.

Lexa heaved a sigh. "I truly am a fool. Aren't I?"

"It happens to the best of us." Molly shrugged her shoulders, the red tip of her nose the only thing still reminding Lexa that she was crying not five minutes earlier. "The only question is, what are you going to do about it?"

Lexa chewed her lip. "Nothing."

Molly glared.

"For now. Just because he isn't jumping Mary-Lou's bones doesn't mean he wants to jump mine. You aren't the all-seeing Oracle. Maybe you're wrong in the way you read things."

Molly scoffed. "Or maybe you're just a coward in the way you're behaving."

***

"Are they alright?"

Jack looked at his brother sitting in the car next to him, brooding. "Fine. What's gotten into you tonight?"

Back at the bar, Lexa's cough had drawn his attention away from the urgent conversation he had been sucked into with one of the managers, and he had seen some idiot hitting on her, instead of helping her. Anger had gotten the better of him as every protective instinct had roared to life inside of him. He had stomped over with the intention of putting his fist into the inconsiderate bastard's face. What he hadn't expected was for his brother to follow his suit.

"She didn't look like she needed rescuing." Unlike Lexa, Molly had looked like she was thriving in her element, flirting with some other moron.

Jack didn't know what Molly had seen in him. Probably nothing but a one-night-stand. In that case, she wouldn't have cared that the douchebag's brain was probably no bigger than a pea and far further south than his head. Jack didn't think any less of her either if that was indeed what she had planned on doing. It would make him the worst possible hypocrite if he criticized her for something that he had lived most of his university years.

No, the surprising part had been Michael, acting all protective, then giving Molly a once over that had meant to mock instead of appreciate. As much as it pained Jack to say it, his brother had deserved Molly's comeback.

"Are you going to say something?"

Michael grumbled.

"You can't just look at her like that. Especially not, when you don't even like her."

Michael had complained about Molly most of the evening. From the way she had pushed her boobs into his face when they were saying hello, to the way she drew the eye of every guy in the bar to their group.

If Jack hadn't known Michael despised 'in your face' sexiness, he would have thought Michael was interested in the sexy bombshell that had been Jack's previous neighbor. But his brother was looking for an elegant companion he could take with him to business functions, not a down and dirty sex kitten who would blow his mind, among other parts of his body.

"Knock it off, Jack, will you?"

Jack tilted his head. Oh yeah, Michael was furious. "Alright, knucklehead. Just answer me this. What's going to happen to Lexa now?"

Because if Michael was thinking of firing her for something her friend had done, he would have a fight on his hands. No way was Jack going to let Lexa get away before he had a chance to explain the latest fiasco with Mary-Lou and try – somehow – to win Lexa for himself.

***

"I don't hold people responsible for other people's actions," Michael bit out, pissed off all over again that his brother could think so little of him.

He didn't even hold Molly responsible for what she had said. Hell, if it had been any other guy looking her over like he had, he would have hoped she would say exactly that, possibly even followed by a nice kick where it hurt the most. But it had been him on the receiving end and he called himself all kinds of a fool for succumbing to the temptation. She had tempted him mercilessly from the moment he had laid eyes on her in that low-cut red dress and fuck-me heels. The clingy fabric of the dress had barely contained her lush figure and he had had one hell of a time keeping his eyes above her neck. He had managed anyway, until she had pushed out her boobs even more as if she was offended that he hadn't given them the attention they deserved. He had congratulated himself on his cool demeanor right up to the point where he had seen the fucking twat ogling her cleavage.

Michael still hadn't managed to figure out why exactly he had blown the way he had. He couldn't even blame it on being intoxicated. As the designated driver for the evening, he hadn't touched a single drink.

And still, when Jack had stomped to Lexa's rescue, not even Michael's normally icy control had been able to hold him back from giving the fucker a good shoulder-check. The best explanation he had for losing his head like that was that coming with Lexa, Molly was under his protection for the night.

Not that she had appreciated it. Oh no, she had given him hell for saving her from the slobbering piece of shit, and Michael's control had fully snapped. He remembered thinking _if she doesn't mind this idiot ogling her, then why am I holding myself back_? And he hadn't. Not at all. He had taken in each luscious curve on her body. His reaction to her had stunned him as much as hers to him, when she called him an asshole.

She had gone white as a sheet. Christ, she had almost cried thinking he was going to fire her friend, and he had felt powerless.

For probably the first time in his life, Michael had been unable to think clearly, and he had snapped at her. Ridiculously, furiously angry that she could think he would take his anger out on her friend.

Then he said the wrong thing and her eyes had turned to liquid pools. He had felt like the asshole then. He had wanted to pull her against his body so badly his fingers had curled with the urge. Then she had run away.

Michael barely kept from hitting the steering wheel. Why a spoiled brat should make him feel like the greatest asshole in the world, he didn't know. But the feeling was there.

He had been wrong looking at her the way he had, but what had she been thinking putting her body out there dressed the way she was? Didn't she realize that men were barely better than animals? Didn't she know that all the guys in that bar were panting after her like a horde of rabid dogs? And that lecherous bastard who had undressed her with his eyes...

_But she didn't object with him, did she_ , a small voice in his head reminded him. _She has a right to choose who she wants to interact with._

Then why did he feel like strangling someone?

And why did his brother have to be sitting here like an easy target.

"She was flirting with the guy, you know. Lexa, I mean," Michael said, feeling Jack freeze beside him. "You might want to step up your game if you want her for yourself, because she sure as hell seems to be getting tired of waiting around."

***

"Lexa?" Jack trapped his phone between his ear and shoulder, and let himself into his apartment. Finally home. The car ride seemed to have dragged on forever. Especially after Michael had dropped the bomb. Lexa flirting? The thought twisted his insides.

Had she done it in retaliation for seeing him with Mary-Lou? As awful as the thought was, he could live with that. If she was genuinely not interested in him, on the other hand...

Jack pushed a hand through his hair in desperation. Could he really have read the attraction between them wrong? Had he taken things too slowly in his attempt to not send her running like he had that first day in the lobby? He had bought her lunch, for god's sake. He had caressed her, had gone to the trouble of finding out her favorite drink. Did she not see the way he looked at her? Did she not realize the smile he couldn't help, every time he saw her? Did she really not understand what all that meant?

Her sleepy voice came over the line and he exhaled a shaky breath. "Jack?"

"Did I wake you? I'm really sorry. I just wanted to make sure that you and Molly are alright."

"Thanks. Molly's fine."

Her voice wrapped around him in the dark of his entrance hall and Jack finally felt something loosening in his chest. She hadn't hung up on him. She was talking to him again after dodging him all day. That had to be a good sign, right? "What about you?"

He heard a quiet creak, as if she was shifting her weight on a mattress and couldn't help the thought of her in a bed – _his_ bed – popping into his head.

"Am I fired?"

The hesitant question dissolved the image faster than a kick to the nuts.

"Of course you aren't. What happened back there had nothing to do with you."

She exhaled a slow breath. "That's...a relief. Molly is really sorry, you know. She didn't mean what she said."

"I know. Michael knows too."

The line fell silent for a beat.

"I, uh... I really appreciate you checking up on us. Was there anything else you needed?"

Jack's fingers tightened around the phone. _Yes. Will you go on a date with me?_

Eight easy words that could change his life. He had never had difficulty asking before. But then, he had never cared about the answer before. If only she hadn't flirted tonight. Now he couldn't help second-guessing himself.

"That was all. Sleep well, Lexa."

"You too." Did she sound disappointed, or was it his imagination running wild?

Jack tossed his phone on the living room table and sank down on the couch, rubbing a hand over his face.

He was truly pathetic.

If he could just figure out if she was interested in more than the job. But every time he saw her, their encounter seemed to end in a disaster one way or the other.

First he managed to embarrass her, and then her friend freaked out over his brother. And, of course, who could forget that she had seen Mary-Lou hitting on him twice now.

Fuck Mary-Lou and her little games anyway. Wrapping her claws around his arm, all but dragging him away from Lexa that first time. And earlier today, when she had cornered him in the stairwell, all but molesting him. She had known he couldn't push her away.

God, he could already see the headline.

_Corporate Calls partner manhandles socialite client._

The way Lexa had looked at him when she saw them. Jack grimaced. Did she really think he would put himself in a situation like that? Did she seriously believe he had something going on with the cougar?

Maybe he _should_ get the newspapers to print a statement. Something along the lines of _no, I'm not fucking interested in that man-eating bitch of a client I have to please_.

That should settle the case. For both Lexa _and_ Mary-Lou.

God knew he could use the break. This wooing stuff was messing with his head. How was he supposed to dredge up the courage to ask Lexa out when she looked ready to run almost every time they spoke? Did he really have to put himself out there, without any reassurance whatsoever?

Fuck. Guys weren't supposed to think this much.

If it was up to him, they'd skip this part entirely. Go straight to...

_Was there anything else you needed?_

_Yes. You. In my arms. By my side. Against my lips. Surrounding me._

She'd probably think he just wanted to fuck her.

Jack let his head fall back on the couch and groaned. He _did_ want to fuck her. That dress she had worn tonight. The thought of peeling it off, her naked body moving on top of him, blush staining her cheekbones.

Great, now he had a hard-on over a girl he was too much of a coward to ask out. Was there no end to his shame tonight?

His hand worked the button on his suit trousers open.

He guessed not. Yes, he was truly pathetic.

# **Chapter 9**

"Earth to Lexa. Take your eyes off the golden boy."

It was her second week at Corporate Calls and so far Lexa thought she had made a good impression – the bar spectacle from Friday night excepted.

Not that anybody could have guessed something had happened from Michael's demeanor. He treated her as he always had, with a lot of professionalism and a little bit of good-natured teasing. Like right now.

Lexa guiltily ducked her head, embarrassed that he had caught her staring at his brother for the better part of their Monday morning meeting. No, not his brother. His brother and Mary-Lou.

Lexa sighed.

It was the first client meet and greet for the _Dancing Bear_ project that Lexa had been asked to attend, and already she wished she would never be invited to another one if it meant that she had to watch Mary-Lou crawl all over Jack.

She tried hard to remember what Molly had told her about Jack looking at her as if there was nobody else in the room, but it was difficult when Mary-Lou pushed her surgically enhanced twins into Jack's arm as she cooed into his ear.

Straining to hear the whispered words, Lexa briefly wondered if karate would have been a better choice of exercise. She could hardly body-roll Mary-Lou out of the race. And it was a race. She was tired of denying it.

"She's not having much luck with him." Michael leaned in to whisper into her ear, nodding towards the pair. He had joined the meet and greet as an observing party, assessing the client-facing skills of his entire team.

Lexa cleared her throat, wondering if she could – should – pretend ignorance.

"What makes you say that?" Damn her curiosity.

"He's barely listening to her."

"He's smiling." She really shouldn't be participating in this conversation.

"He's indulging her."

Lexa sucked in her lower lip between her teeth before looking at her employer.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

"Because my brother seems to be unusually hesitant going after the woman he loves."

Heads turned towards them at her startled gasp.

Lexa blinked owlishly at Michael.

"You better say something," he mouthed, his lips twitching as he pointed towards the group staring at them questioningly.

Lexa turned towards her colleagues, her brain utterly blank. He was going to let _her_ explain this? She didn't even know what he had wanted to imply. That Jack was in _love_ with Lexa, when they couldn't even exchange more than five words without Lexa embarrassing herself one way or the other? That she had been wondering if Jack even _liked_ her in a romantic kind of way, while he was truly head over heels? No, that didn't sound right. Wasn't a woman supposed to _know_ when a man loved her?

Michael had probably meant it as a joke.

Although, she couldn't quite see the older brother as being so tactless.

"Sorry. Hangnail," she finally pressed out, in the absence of a better explanation for disrupting the meeting.

Next to her, she heard Michael's amused snort. Jack's eyes darted between Lexa and his brother in obvious confusion. While Mary-Lou used the opportunity of everyone's distraction to slide her chair even closer to Jack's. If the Housewife kept going like this, she would end up on Jack's lap before the meeting was over.

Lexa clenched her teeth and averted her gaze when Jack didn't even make the smallest attempt to reclaim his personal space.

Whatever his brother and Molly thought, Jack was at least doting on Mary-Lou. Lexa had always assumed a man in love would draw the line.

***

They took a break around ten o'clock, the whole team rushing towards the buffet at the back. Lexa followed the crush at a slower pace, still absorbed in her thoughts.

"Hangnail?"

She looked up to find Jack standing in front of her, two cups of coffee in his hand. One of them was probably for Mary-Lou.

Lexa pressed her lips together and shrugged her shoulders. "I sometimes get those."

He nodded. "Painful buggers."

Was he making fun of her, too?

His face gave nothing away, as he held out a cup. "Coffee?"

For her?

How did he always manage to take her by surprise? And why was he even talking to her when Mary-Lou was standing not ten feet from them clearly eager to continue her seduction? Wouldn't he rather be talking to _her_?

Lexa carefully took the steaming plastic cup from his hand, annoyed at the giddy feeling gripping her body. All that happiness just because he was giving her a sliver of attention?

"I'm afraid it's only crappy machine coffee. Nothing like the good stuff you get at the Ground Bean down on Fifth. Have you ever been there?" He took a sip of his own drink.

She shook her head, still trying to dislodge the ridiculous euphoria. "No."

"I could take you."

She paused with the cup halfway to her mouth.

"You want to take me to the Ground Bean? As a friend?" Could he tell that her heart rate had tripled?

"As a date," he said. "That is, if you'd like to know what proper coffee is supposed to taste like..." He trailed off, the corner of his mouth kicking up, but his eyes searched hers as if he was...uncertain?

It couldn't be.

Lexa's gaze flickered to Mary-Lou who had obviously grown tired of being forgotten and was gliding up to them in her heels. "Are you sure you'll have time with all your, uh, other commitments?"

God, when had she developed a bitchy streak? She flicked another glance in the Housewife's direction, surprised to see that Michael had smoothly intercepted Mary-Lou and steered her non-too-gently towards the table with refreshments that Jack had just left.

Jack didn't even turn, but his expression was serious when he said, "There is nothing going on with Mary-Lou. I'm interested in someone else." He waited for her eyes to stray back to his. And then he said only one word, very softly. "You."

Lexa's breath whooshed out of her lungs. "But..." She didn't know why she said it. She really didn't. Other than the thought of a date with him was making her nervous. "You never object," she whispered, disregarding what the comment revealed about her.

He squirmed, not even bothering to pretend that he didn't understand what she was talking about. "She's our ticket to success, Lexa. Michael has put so much effort into this company. He's put so much faith in me, too, over the years." He ran a hand over his neck. "I can't compromise this project or our future cooperation with the Garnetts just because I don't like the way she looks at me."

_What about the way she touches you?_ Lexa wanted to ask, but snapped her mouth shut before the words could tumble out. She didn't have siblings. But she would probably put up with a lot of crap too, if it was something that could make or break Molly's dream. Especially after the way Molly had cared for her following the attack.

"Okay." She nodded, deciding that she could ask where he drew the line later. Wasn't the whole point of spicing up her life that she didn't constantly succumb to the boring voice of reason that wanted to keep her well within the boundaries of her comfort zone? Wasn't that voice part of the sensible vibe that made her so unattractive to guys? "How does today after work sound to you?"

"Sounds good." He grinned at her.

And then it hit her. She was going on a date with Jack Daniels.

An excited, very unprofessional squeak bubbled in her throat and Lexa took a sip of coffee to swallow it down. An instant later, she spewed the liquid back into the cup. "Hot," she gasped, then closed her eyes. There, she had gone and done it again.

***

Oh my god, she couldn't believe Jack had asked her out for coffee.

Lexa body-rolled against the wall in her bedroom another time, going over her choice of wardrobe in her head. Nothing jumped out at her as date-worthy. Her clothes were either unimaginative shirts and jeans, or dull business suits. The only dress that qualified as moderately glamorous, she had worn to the bar on Friday. Her tailbone hit the wall a little bit too hard and she yelped.

How was she supposed to move each disk of her spine? It was physically impossible.

She watched her flushed face in the mirror, her tongue sticking out in concentration as she tried the move another time.

"What on earth are you doing?" Molly's startled voice brought Lexa's head around to her door.

Molly had had the whole weekend to get over her shock that she could have gotten Lexa fired and – always someone to live in the moment – she was now back to her bouncy self. Especially as she claimed at least partial accountability for landing Lexa a date.

"Working out."

"Is it supposed to hurt my eyes?"

"As long as you don't learn how to knock – absolutely."

"Bring Jack home tonight and I swear I'll knock tomorrow morning. Then again..."

The thoughtful look on Molly's face made Lexa's eyes roll heavenwards. "Not going to happen," she said.

"What? You bringing Mr. Hot home or me sneaking into your room to see if he's as scorching naked as he looks clothed."

"Neither."

"Boring."

Lexa threw a pillow that Molly laughingly deflected.

"What shall I wear?"

"None of your drab outfits."

"Gee, thanks."

"No offense."

It was a statement of their friendship that Lexa took none.

"I brought you something." A wooly winter-dress appeared from behind Molly's back. "It never really fit me, but it will look lovely on you. Although it may be a little bit tight around your butt." Molly eyed Lexa's behind squished against the wall. "But then that's a good thing, right?"

A few weeks ago Lexa would have disagreed, but after all the booty-toning exercises during their pole warm-ups, Lexa was ready to at least show off that particular asset. _Spice up your life_ , she reminded herself. If only she could master Ruby's walk too. The woman was a study in seduction from behind. Lexa grabbed the dress and wiggled into the fabric.

"I'll also do your make-up," Molly offered.

Lexa shook her head. "I've watched and I've learned. I can do it myself."

Molly pulled her lips into a fake pout. "That's what I get for sharing my knowledge. Sidelined without a second thought."

Lexa laughed, gesturing towards her beauty case. "Okay. You can do it. But please, restrain yourself."

***

Molly had done a fantastic job, Lexa thought an hour later when she watched Jack's eyes widen in pleasant surprise as he held the door to the coffee shop open for her.

He looked drop-dead gorgeous in a dark coat and dressy shoes. He had taken off his tie and slacks, instead opting for more casual jeans, but Lexa could still see the collar of a plain white shirt peeking out from under his scarf. A button-down shirt. Nobody had ever made the effort of wearing a formal shirt for her.

A five-o'clock shadow graced the skin on his cheeks and made Lexa's hands itch to touch.

He bent towards her ear as she passed. "You look lovely."

Warmth engulfed her from the inside out as she inhaled strongly the scent of freshly brewed coffee.

The interior of the Ground Bean was cozy. Guests clustered around small wooden tables at the front of the shop, sipping from artfully decorated mugs while gesturing animatedly amongst themselves. Waiters and waitresses in green aprons bustled between bags and strollers, serving men, women and children with a smile on their face. A group of customers eyed cakes in the display case next to the counter that was carefully tucked to the side. Behind the tills on the grey brick wall, a huge blackboard announced customaries and specials. Despite the late hour, the noise in the shop was a busy, steady hum. Lexa fell instantly in love with the atmosphere.

"I reserved us a table." Jack's hand settled warmly at the small of her back as he guided her towards the rear of the shop where huge leather seats and low couch tables gave the place a more intimate feel.

He plucked a 'reserved' card from one of the tables and pulled out one of the heavy seats. Lexa rounded the table to slide into the space opposite him when a quiet chuckle stopped her. Jack's eyes danced with self-deprecating laughter as he looked from his hands, still resting on the leather in front of him to her.

"Never mind." His lips twitched and Lexa felt herself blush as she realized too late what he had intended.

Before she could turn around, and make an even bigger mess of things, he smoothly slid into the seat himself, sparing her the embarrassment of insisting she take it.

Feeling her cheeks burning hot at her own clumsiness, Lexa cleared her throat nodding at the makeshift paper-sign he was still holding in his hands. "I didn't know they reserved tables in coffee shops."

"They don't." Jack gave her a sheepish smile. "It has advantages to be the brother of the owner."

She looked up, surprised. "Michael owns this?"

"No, Edward does. I have two brothers and a sister."

"Big family," she said, not quite able to keep the envy out of her voice.

"It's not as great as it seems." But the warmth in his eyes belied his words. He obviously loved his siblings. "Edward is the black sheep in the family," he confided. "Age-wise, he's sandwiched between Michael and me. Edward was the only one to forgo a career in a corporate environment to follow in my uncle's footsteps and start up a gastronomy business. He had his heart set on the Ground Bean forever, and when it came up for sale five years ago he dove right in. I hope you don't think that's cheating," he added. "After all, I won't really have to pay. If you'd rather go somewhere else—"

"And miss out on this opportunity to taste first-class coffee? No way."

His teeth flashed white, and Lexa sucked in a breath. He was just so beautiful when he smiled at her like that. Her belly did a funny flip and she quickly buried her head in the menu before he could notice that she was staring.

Seconds later, she was saved by a man approaching their table. From the standard Daniels lopsided grin on his face, it could only be Jack's brother, Edward.

He gave her a kiss on the cheek as Jack introduced them and sat two mocaccinos on the table. "I have something special for the two of you," he said, disappearing through a doorway before coming back with a white, rectangular tray that spanned half the table.

"To share." He grinned at them as he set the plate down and Lexa saw that it was filled with chocolaty desserts.

There was a brownie, a hazelnut praline, two mini chocolate macaroons, chocolate marshmallows and biscuits. On the side he had cut strawberries into quarters and garnished them with whipped cream.

Lexa's mouth watered.

"Made fresh," Edward said, clearly proud of his creation.

"He makes all his food fresh in the back."

"Here in the shop?" Lexa asked stunned, after Edward left them with a little wink. She would have thought everything was delivered.

"Before Edward bought the coffee shop, he was a pastry chef. He loves baking. And eating, although you wouldn't believe it by looking at him. He does fantastic birthday cakes."

Lexa smiled, seeing the fond memories Jack harbored of his family. "What about your parents?" she asked, digging into the brownie when he motioned for her to make a start.

"They're amazing," he said with a small chuckle. "Although we didn't think so, when we were kids. They were very strict. Very fair. They're still married after thirty-five years."

Jack finally took a bite, their cutlery tangling. He flipped the metal in his hand and pinned her fork to the plate.

"Hey!" Lexa complained, a grin tugging at her lips. "How am I supposed to eat like this?"

Jack picked up a mini macaroon between his fingers, before holding the morsel to her lips.

"From my hand," he murmured and Lexa shivered at the sudden change in atmosphere.

His eyes held her captive as she slipped her lips around the bite, taking the piece into her mouth. She could feel the pad of his thumb against her tongue and couldn't help sucking the digit just a tiny bit. A heady feeling gripped her when she heard the low rumble in his chest as he pulled his hand back to pick up the second macaroon.

_She_ was doing this to him. _She_ was making him growl in public. She had never known how powerful that could make her feel.

Jack kept feeding her by hand until the plate was empty and most of the customers had left for the night.

When they finally decided to head back to her apartment, Lexa felt more than a little bit flushed. And distinctly giddy when Jack decided to quietly lace their fingers.

"When can I see you again?" he asked, his thumb rubbing across the back of her hand.

"Tomorrow at work?"

He pulled a strand of her hair, his lips twitching. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

She did. But she had no idea how to answer the question. A joke had seemed like the safest way to keep from spoiling the beautiful moment.

He pulled her to a stop in front of her door, the single step bringing them almost to eye level. "How about a movie on Friday? And dinner on Saturday?"

"You want to see me twice in a row?" Elation made her voice unusually husky.

"I want to see you every day. But I thought that might sound a little bit greedy."

Warmth curled in her belly. "I don't mind greedy." It was as much of an admission that she wanted to see _him_ every day too as she dared. Even after bathing in his attention for hours, she was worried she might come across as too clingy if she came right out and said it. His interest in her still seemed somehow surreal. Something that would happen to someone like gorgeous Molly and not ordinary Lexa. Something she had dreamed of all her life. A dream that she knew could never last forever. But she would be damned if she did anything to speed up the inevitable.

"You don't?"

She shook her head.

"So I'm allowed to kiss you, then?"

Lexa drew in a shaky breath. "I would like you to." Her face was flaming again.

He lifted her chin when she tried to hide and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"As would I," he whispered and Lexa's breath caught in her throat.

She watched him move closer. His lips hovering just above hers.

"Close your eyes," he said, softly touching her lashes.

Lexa allowed her eyelids to flutter closed.

His lips, when they touched hers, were soft yet firm. He tasted of chocolate and coffee. And _oh my god_. Lexa clutched at his shirt to pull him against her body, realizing only distantly that she was trying to climb him like a pole.

His hands cupped around her face, warming her cheeks as their lips mashed together in urgent frenzy. His tongue dipped deeply into her mouth. A tiny moan escaped Lexa's throat.

When they finally came up for air, Lexa's legs felt as if they wanted to give out. She had _never_ experienced a kiss like this.

Jack steadied her with a lopsided grin, his cheekbones flushed, his eyes burning brightly. "Thanks for a wonderful evening," he whispered. "I am the luckiest man in the world."

# **Chapter 10**

"Are you going to watch it with me, Mol?"

"Two minutes, girlfriend. I'm almost done here."

It was Tuesday night and Lexa had decided to finally take a look at the documentary that Ruby had recommended during their first pole class.

_Shoes, Shorts and Glimmer_ followed a number of pole dancers on their road to the world championships.

_Show it to anybody who thinks pole dancing is nothing but glorified stripping_ , Ruby had said and Lexa thought she'd better take a look. Maybe she could use it as ammunition if her parents ever found out about her hobby. Not that she had any plans to volunteer the information. The thought of her mother's reaction alone prevented Lexa from exploring that possibility too closely.

That reminded her, she was still dodging her parents' calls.

Lexa dug her phone out of her pocket and stared at the screen feeling ridiculous. It shouldn't be so hard to say five words. _I will never come home._

She had given this a lot of thought. Four years of thought exactly. She _knew_ she didn't intend to ever move back in with them. Her life was in New York now. Jack was in New York. Not that she would base her decision on the fact that she had been on a date with him. She wasn't stupid. This was the city of endless opportunities, for goodness sake. Beautiful women basically congregated here. She would be lucky if she could hold his attention for a week.

Still, she couldn't imagine giving up everything for the peace of mind her parents craved.

Taking a deep breath, Lexa scrolled through her contacts until her parents' number came up. By the time the call connected, the palms of her hands were damp with sweat.

"Alexandra darling."

"Hello mother."

"We were worried about you. You didn't take our last call."

More like the last fifteen in the last seven days. "I sent you a number of texts saying everything was alright."

Her mother huffed. "Everyone can send a text from your phone."

"No they can't. I told you that my screen is password protected."

"What does that even mean?"

Lexa shook her head. Her parents had never been the most technically savvy. "Nobody can access my phone unless I give them the code."

"And what if they force you to?"

"Why ever would they do that?"

She heard her mother's breath hitch and Lexa closed her eyes trying to find her calm. "Mom, I'm fine. Really. I'm sorry I didn't get back to you via voice call, but there's no need to worry. I-I have something important to tell you and I was unsure how to phrase it. That's all."

"Something important?" She could almost see the frown lines gathering on her mother's forehead.

Lexa pinched the bridge of her nose. "I have decided not to move back in with you and dad after graduation." It would be a step back. It had been a battle to get them to let her move out and after what had happened four years ago, they were likely to lock her into their home until she was old and grey. She didn't want that. She couldn't do it. "I'll be staying in New York, mom."

The line was silent for so long, Lexa almost thought she had lost the connection. Then a sniffle sounded on the other end. "But you're my baby."

Lexa squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm twenty-two."

"You couldn't know your mind at twenty-two."

"You were married and pregnant at twenty-two."

"That was different. That was back then."

"Mom, please. Don't make this harder on me than it is. I can't do this if you cry."

"Then don't, darling. Please. Just... just come home for the summer and we'll talk about it. Okay?"

Go back without an exit strategy? Every last cell in Lexa's body rebelled. They would never let her move out again. No, it was better to fight now, when she was out of their reach. Only how could she be so selfish? How could she treat her parents like that? The thought of them feeling abandoned by their daughter made her chest ache with hurt and sorrow. She knew all about loneliness. The way she had felt before Jack. If she hadn't had her parents' love, she didn't know what she would have done. And for her to take the same away from them now... She took a deep breath. "I-I..."

"At least think about it. Lexa, darling. Tell me you're going to think about it. We miss you so much."

Damn. Moisture gathered in her eyes. She missed them, too. Sometimes she missed them so much she couldn't even breathe. "I'll think about it." Her shoulders slumped.

"We love you." Her mother sniffed. "You know that, right?"

"I know, mom. I love you, too." If only she could make them understand. If only it didn't hurt so much trying to live her own life.

***

"This is amazing.

Molly shoved another handful of popcorn into her mouth, pretending to miss Lexa's disquiet.

"You can do all of that?"

"Not even a tenth of it. I can probably fudge the first move we saw, if I try really hard."

"That's still amazing. Anything at all is amazing. It's a metal rod and you can climb it."

Lexa felt her mouth twist. "It's all about technique."

"That's what they all say, honey." Molly patted her thigh. "Believe me, they are lying. Sometimes it's only about size."

"Molly Rogers. You have a one-track mind."

"And I'm proud of it." Molly winked then focused back on the TV. "But this. This is truly outstanding. I can't believe you're learning to do this. You should do a dance for Jack one of these days."

Uneasiness settled between Lexa's shoulders. She hadn't even told Jack about her hobby yet. She wasn't sure how he would react. Hell, she didn't even know how she _wanted_ him to react. What if he asked her if she was a stripper like Antoine did? What if he _did_ ask her to dance for him?

She couldn't imagine giving him a private show. It was one thing to dance in a room with a handful of girls who were struggling, like her. It was something else entirely to dance in scraps of lingerie in front of someone whose opinion actually mattered.

Mary-Lou was sexy. Molly was sexy. Hell, even Angie was sexy with her curves. Tomboy Lexa with the scars on her cheek? Not so much.

What if she put herself out there for him and he didn't like it?

He would never laugh at her. Of that she was certain. Not the man who had made her feel so cherished on their date.

But what if he tried to spare her feelings acting as if he liked the show, while on the inside he was cringing at her awkwardness? Wouldn't that be even worse?

He'd probably find a suitable apology as soon as the song ended and hightail it out of her life, glad he didn't attempt to have sex with her, because clearly she didn't even know how to seduce him with her body. The thought alone made her fingers clammy.

No, she couldn't give him a reason like that to leave her so quickly. Lexa bit her lip. She could never dance for him.

# **Chapter 11**

On Thursday evening Lexa entered the pole studio, dashing straight to the bathroom. She was running late.

The week had flown by in a flurry of activity. The _Dancing Bear_ project was picking up speed. For the last few days, Lexa had barely had a chance to see Jack at work, but he had called her every night. They had talked for hours about anything and everything, except for what Lexa had come to think of as her dirty little secret. She had started to tell him a few times, but always stopped before the words could leave her lips. She was too afraid of the conversation to follow.

Waving her hand under the hand dryer, Lexa sighed. She should just do it and get it over with. Really, she couldn't keep her hobby a secret from him forever. And he would hardly break up with her just because she refused to lap dance for him. Or would he? God. Was she the only person who didn't understand how the male psyche worked?

"Crazy weather out there, isn't it?" Gigi nodded towards the window, surprising Lexa with the question. The girl was finally coming out of her shell. Sure, she still had the voice of a mouse, but she spoke more often than before and, if the crowd was small enough, she even started conversations.

It was clear that Gigi was gaining the confidence in every-day situations that Lexa so desperately needed when it came to men, Jack in particular. How was it that the painfully shy stripper could change her personality while Lexa could not?

"It's madness," Lexa agreed, pulling a grimace when she saw in the mirror that she wasn't getting very far in the beauty department either.

Spring had arrived according to her predictions, with a warm weather front that had turned the snow on the streets to slush and poured endless buckets of water from the sky. Always on the frizzy side, her hair was happily doing the curl-dance. Not even Molly's relentless make-up lessons that Lexa tried to put to good use could distract from her drenched-rat look.

Pulling a scrunchy from her pocket, Lexa tried to get the wild mane under control and ended up looking like a bull with horns sticking out on either side of her face. Alluring? Not so much. Nil out of three in the ABC of sexiness after weeks of dancing. How deflating.

Heaving a deep sigh, she gave up trying to fix what couldn't be fixed and turned to fully look at Gigi.

"Do you think we're going to get more bruises today?"

Gigi tilted her head. "I have no doubt. I heard we're doing the Chopper."

The mysterious Chopper. Although it wasn't mysterious any longer.

Curious what Tracy had been talking about, Lexa had sat down to do some research on the internet over the last few days. It hadn't taken long to find the position in a pole dance dictionary.

When she did, her jaw had dropped. The woman in the photo was head down on the pole, holding on only with her arms, her legs spread wide on either side of the metal rod. Lexa doubted she would _ever_ be able to do that. Humans weren't built to defy gravity.

She picked up her bags and followed Gigi to the _Clubhouse_ , choosing one of two empty poles next to Tracy.

The normally bitchy girl looked unusually grim.

Lexa shrugged inwardly. After what had happened last time, she wasn't in any hurry to make friends with Snippy. Nor did she have the breath to ask what was up after another prolonged Ruby-esque warm up.

"Girls pop on your shoes. Today we're going upside down."

Lexa chewed her lip. So much for hoping Gigi was mistaken.

She looked at her shoes and winced. She still hadn't gotten around to buying a pair with straps. Or more accurately she still didn't have the money. Every last dollar she earned at Corporate Calls was going straight into her savings account for future rent and groceries.

"What I want you to do," Ruby said, oblivious to Lexa's dilemma, "is grab onto the pole like this." She grabbed the metal rod with both hands. "Standing on the left side of the pole I want you to pull yourself up, then spread your legs until you can hook onto the pole with your feet." Ruby was now hanging head down and Lexa was starting to feel queasy just watching. "For those of you who are adventurous, you can then let go and flip over so your butt points in the air, legs in a V on either side of the pole.

_Riiight_ , Lexa thought. She had seen the result before, but the process to get there... Tracy smoothly pulled herself into an upside down V position without ever touching her feet to the pole.

"That's going to take some time," Lexa whispered to Angie, before lunging and smashing her pubic bone into the pole.

"Ouch. Shit."

"She said stand on the left side, not in the middle." Angie barely held back a laugh.

Lexa adjusted her stance, gripped the pole hard, lunged again...and fell back onto her heels. God, how was she ever supposed to go upside down?

"Keep practicing, girls. You have to make sure not to drop your arms too early, otherwise your body drags you down, while you're trying to get it up and over. Again."

Lexa tried again and this time she managed to hook the heel of her foot on the pole. Her shoe went flying. Damn.

"You need to use your abs and shoulder muscles," Ruby said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. "And don't despair if you don't get the move right away. It took me a while to get it too."

Lexa finally managed to hang upside down, but the thought of letting go with her feet and flipping over, when her arms were already straining, made a cold sweat break out on her forehead. She lowered herself back to the floor with a thump. "I can't do this."

"Give yourself a break." Ruby said, seeing her struggle. "Don't push yourself just because you think you should. You got the first part of the move. You're doing well. Your mind and body aren't ready to let go. It's good to know your limits and observe them. You might do more damage rushing things. If you fall, you'll lose confidence in yourself. It's better to give each move the time it needs. Keep going as far as you dare, every time. At some point you'll feel like the time is right."

Lexa pursed her lips. "What do we even need this for?"

Ruby motioned for her to step away from the pole. "It is a starting position for some of the more advanced moves. Like the Left Leg Hang." She pulled herself into a Chopper, then hooked her left leg onto the pole. She scissored her right leg to the back, and before Lexa could suck in a breath, her hands let go.

She was hanging head down, without touching her hands to the pole at all.

"Oh my god," Gigi breathed, awestruck.

"Beginners," Tracy sneered, lifting up to copy Ruby.

"Hey Tracy. You're not supposed to try advanced moves," Gigi said.

"Fuck you, bitch."

Lexa's jaw dropped. It wasn't so much the words as it was the utter menace in her voice.

Hooking her left leg on, Tracy let go with her hands, but forgot to scissor her right leg back. For a second, time stopped. Then everything happened too fast. Ruby turned, her mouth opening, even as Tracy lost grip and slipped down the pole, hitting the floor hard.

"Damn." Ruby was at Tracy's side in an instant, checking the girl.

"Is she alright?" Emily asked.

Ruby looked up. "It seems the only thing hurt is her pride. Thank god. Come on Tracy, let me help you."

"Fuck off. Just leave me alone." Tracy flailed her arms, pushing herself up from the floor. "You're assholes. All of you." And she dashed out the door.

Silence descended on the room.

"Did she cry?" Angie frowned.

Lexa had also thought she had seen a sheen of tears in Tracy's eyes. How unusual for the normally prickly girl.

Ruby sighed. "I have to inform reception. File an incident report. Maybe call a paramedic. I have first aid training, but I don't want to miss a possible concussion just because I think she's fine. Can someone try to find Tracy, please?" She left the room without waiting for an answer.

They all stood there. Nobody moved.

"So who's going to find her?" Emily asked after a moment.

Gigi looked up. "I would, but she'd chew me up and spit me out in no time."

"I'm not helping the bitch, sorry." Angie shook her head. "She's rude and inconsiderate. It's her own fault if nobody cares."

"I'll do it." Lexa sighed. She could think of a thousand things she'd rather do. But something had been seriously off with Tracy tonight.

***

Lexa finally found Tracy locked in one of the toilet stalls.

She closed the bathroom door and heard a quiet sob.

"Tracy?"

"Go away." Tracy's voice was thick with tears.

Despite the insults Tracy had hurled at everyone, despite her stalker-ish attitude, Lexa felt her heart squeeze at the anguish in Tracy's voice.

She walked up to the stall, and knocked quietly. "I just want to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to you, though, bitch."

It took Lexa effort to check her reaction. "I'm not going anywhere until I know you're alright."

That elicited a snort from Tracy and Lexa thought she heard her say, _How could I be_.

She tried again. "Will you open the door? I have your stuff here. If nothing else, you should put on some clothes. It's cold and you're probably still heated from the workout. You might get sick if you don't cover up."

Even the lock sounded defiant when it finally released and Tracy's hand reached out.

Lexa pushed into the stall, ignoring Tracy's protest.

"What's going on?" she asked, taking in the other girl's puffy eyes.

She had never considered herself very good with crying people, but what had to be done had to be done.

"I fell from a pole, dumbass." Tracy's eyes flashed.

Lexa tilted her head. She was getting nowhere this way. Maybe if she took a swipe at Tracy's pride. Maybe that would enrage the other girl enough to snap. God, she had to be suicidal. "You didn't hurt yourself that bad," she said. "Does that mean you're a wimp then?"

Tracy's jaw clenched.

"You know. Maybe I shouldn't have come here," Lexa continued. "Maybe the other girls were right. You don't deserve anybody's support."

A sob shook Tracy. "No, I don't."

_What?_ She had expected the girl to lash out, not crumble like a picture of misery.

Feeling awful for kicking someone who had literally hit rock bottom mere minutes ago, Lexa crouched in front of Tracy and laid a gentle hand on her arm.

"What's going on, Tracy?"

The girl shook her head. "You don't even like me."

"That's true." There was really no sense in lying. "But neither do I hate you enough to leave you like this. Talk to me and I swear I'll do my best to help you."

Tracy lifted her head, looking at her through tears. "You can't help me. Nobody can. It was my fault she's dead. I drove the car." A shudder wracked her frame and Tracy buried her head back in her hands. "Today would have been her twenty-first birthday."

***

The paramedics finally arrived and pole teachers and students who had gathered in the small parking lot breathed a collective sigh of relief, when Tracy was declared fit to go home. Even Angie seemed to be glad the other girl was merely bruised, but otherwise uninjured.

Lexa, who was still shaken by the information Tracy had reluctantly divulged during their chat, barely noticed when Ruby relayed a message from the always mysteriously absent owner of the studio, Crystal, thanking everyone who had helped respond to the incident. Nobody was in the mood to practice any more pole moves, so class ended early.

Lexa dragged herself home, her thoughts firmly with the girl she had thought was nothing but a cold-hearted bitch.

Instead, it turned out Tracy was just a lonely girl who felt guilty for her sister's death three years ago. God, how awful to lose a younger sibling in a car accident. How much worse to have been the driver.

Lexa had promised Tracy not to tell the others, although they probably suspected something more had been going on when they saw Lexa return misty-eyed.

Lexa swallowed hard.

To live with a burden like that. Was that why Tracy pushed everyone away? Was that why she fled to the virtual reality of her blog, because she didn't think she deserved real friendship? Could ten-thousand clicks a month make up for a lonely existence?

Lexa doubted it. Nothing could replace real-life interaction.

Maybe she could help Tracy after all. Maybe she could show her there was at least _someone_ who gave a damn.

Because if there was one thing Lexa understood perfectly well, it was feeling unlovable. Feeling that yourself was just not quite good enough.

# **Chapter 12**

Lexa wiggled into her pants. She had worn the tight ones today. For Jack.

Her legs were finally starting to tone up, as were her arms, since she had upped the body-roll exercises at home with a light stretching and core strength routine that she had found on the internet. Sore muscles and bruises were the order of the day. Every day. Lexa didn't mind. It reminded her that she was not giving up. That she was working to change inside and out.

She jumped when her cellphone rang.

"Mother."

"Lexa, darling. How are you doing?"

Oh no, Lexa thought, recognizing the tone of voice.

"I'm doing well. How are you and dad?"

"Your father's worried about you."

Lexa didn't doubt it. Her father hadn't stopped worrying about her since the attack. In any case, he wasn't as bad as her mother. "I'm fine."

"Have you thought about what we talked about?"

"I was busy," Lexa evaded. Her resolve to stand up to her parents definitely still needed some work.

"With your job."

"Yes. And other stuff."

"That sounds dangerous, Lexa darling."

"It sounds normal, mom. Did you need anything in particular? I have to go." She was already running late as it was.

"Are you going out to parties again?" She could almost see the worry she knew was on her mother's face.

Lexa pressed her lips together. "No. I'm meeting a friend."

"A boy?"

"Yes."

The soft ' _Oh no_ ' travelling over the line made Lexa clutch her phone tighter. Her mother had never made a secret that _if_ her daughter decided to one day join the relationship market, she would like for Lexa to find a young man close to home. Preferably within walking distance of Lexa's parents. It wasn't a big surprise a boyfriend in New York didn't go over well. Still, the immediately negative response annoyed Lexa. As did her mother's next words.

"Are you... Is it serious?"

_She_ was. But admitting it would only stir her mother's emotions further. "It will be our second date today."

"Hopefully you're not going to meet him at a bar. You know how guys get when they are drunk."

"For goodness sake, mother." Lexa shook her head. There was only one way to pacify her mother that her new boyfriend wasn't going to turn on her with a broken beer bottle. Unfortunately, Lexa would have preferred to keep that tiny tidbit to herself for a little bit longer. She took a deep breath. "You remember Jack?"

"The boy who went with you to the hospital?"

"That's the guy I'm meeting."

"He's a good boy."

She could hear the relief in her mother's voice.

"Were you with him when you were out last night as well?"

Lexa narrowed her eyes at the phone.

"How do you know I was out last night?"

Silence ensued at the other end of the line.

"Mother?"

"You remember Jenny's boyfriend?"

The Hollywood A-lister lookalike? How could she forget?

"What about him?"

"He downloaded this new application to your dad's computer a few weeks ago. In case we lose our phones. You always seem to be out on Thursday nights." More silence ensued.

"You're tracking my phone?"

"Darling, we're worried about you."

"Do not track my phone." Lexa couldn't help pushing the words through her teeth. She loved her parents dearly, but this was just about enough.

"Please, darling, just answer my question."

Not for the first time in her life, Lexa wanted to lie badly.

"I was dancing, mother." Why couldn't she just lie?

"Dancing? As in ballroom dancing? With Jack?"

Lexa squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the explosion.

"Pole dancing, mom?"

A quiet sob drifted over the line.

"Mom?"

"Lillian?" Lexa heard her father's voice in the back.

"She's become a stripper."

"I'm not..."

There was a crackling noise on the line, as if someone grabbed the phone without care.

"My daughter will not strip in a bar."

Lexa rolled her eyes. "I'm not a stripper. I'm in a pole dancing class. It's a fitness trend."

Her father huffed.

"It's a girls' only class," Lexa added. "It's a really big trend now."

"Are you doing drugs too?"

Lexa stared at the phone as if it had sprouted wings. "What has one to do with the other? Dad, it's for fitness purposes."

The crackling was back, then her mother's quiet sob. "We had such high hopes for you. Is it the money? We can send you some."

Lexa pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I don't need money." Just space. She didn't say it. It would only result in more tears. "I'll send you a link to a documentary. Please watch it."

"Are you sleeping with them too? Dad knows this really good social worker who is specializing in women—"

"Don't even say it. Don't even think it. I'm not a prostitute." The term alone drew another wail from the other end of the line.

Lexa pulled the phone away from her ears. It was useless, she realized.

"I'm going to hang up now. Watch the film. Please. I'll speak to you soon"

***

Her thoughts were still pre-occupied when she met Jack an hour later at the entrance to the cinema. People were milling around in groups, eating popcorn. Children were dashing between them, playing hide and seek behind cardboard action figures.

"You look like you have something on your mind."

Lexa heaved a sigh. "My parents."

Jack had met them briefly at the hospital.

Her parents had still been in New York, after helping Lexa move, when the incident had happened. Hearing that their daughter was injured, they had immediately come to see her.

Her father had first thought it had been Jack's fault that Lexa's cheek was cut and had done an imitation of a world-class boxer right there in front of everyone in the waiting room.

When Lexa had come out of the examination room and saw her sixty-year old father bouncing on the balls of his feet, his sleeves rolled up and ready to strike the stunned young man who had done nothing wrong but accompanied his daughter to the ER, she had prayed that the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

"Sometimes I wonder if they'll ever get over it."

"Are they still as protective as they were back then?" Jack asked gently.

Lexa nodded, biting her lip.

"What set them off this time?"

Lexa closed her eyes. It seemed to be the day of confessions. "I told them I was pole dancing."

Jack's arm slid off her shoulder and Lexa felt the loss instantly. Here came the awkward conversation. Damn. She should have waited. At least until after the movie.

"Yes, I can see how they may not be thrilled about that."

Her head whipped around. She hadn't expected him to be so matter of fact. After the reactions from Antoine the fitness buff, and her parents. After the worries she had harbored about telling him for such a long time. She had braced for another passionate reaction.

"That's it?" she asked. "That's all you have to say?"

He shrugged. "My sister has been pole dancing for years. The whole family was appalled at first. We eventually accepted the inevitable. I know how much work goes into the sport. Plus," he gave her one of his lopsided grins. "I can see the advantages of my girlfriend doing it."

There it was. The comment she had dreaded. Lexa felt her hands go clammy. "I'm not doing this so I can dance for you."

***

He felt his eyes narrow at the vehemence in her tone. "I didn't think you were." But now he wondered why.

He watched as she shifted on her feet, waiting her out.

"I could never make a fool out of myself like that in front of you."

Jack huffed a laugh. "A fool? Believe me. That's the last thing a guy thinks when a beautiful woman is dancing in front of him half-naked."

She ducked her head and he could almost hear her thoughts. _But I'm not beautiful._

It cut him up so badly. Her insecurity. He wanted to take it from her. He wanted to hurt every single person who had ever made her feel inadequate. The reaction stunned him. He wasn't usually a violent man. "Hey." He put a finger underneath her chin.

"I just couldn't. Okay?"

No. No, it was not okay. But here was neither the time nor the place to tell her. "Whatever you say." He kissed her head and hugged her close, thankful when the door to their cinema hall opened a moment later.

They settled into their seats and Jack was glad when she allowed him to pull her into his side. He didn't want to fight with her. Not over something as stupid as a dance class. But that insecurity of hers was difficult for him to accept. He wished she could see herself through his eyes. Just once.

***

"Would you like to go for a drink? My uncle's bar is just around the corner."

Lexa looked up from where she had marveled again at the fact that he had laced their fingers together as they were leaving the cinema. He liked doing that, she realized. Holding onto her as if he didn't want to let go. Not even for a second. Almost like the hero in the romantic comedy they had watched.

The thought gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest.

She would say yes to anything if it meant she could spend more time in his company. Thankfully, Jack hadn't lied about the 'just around the corner' part and soon they ducked through a heavy wooden door into the warm interior of an old Irish-looking pub.

Jack's uncle was a portly man in his late forties with greying hair and an equally greying mustache.

Lexa couldn't believe he actually took her jacket and kissed the back of her hand in perfect fashion before mumbling a quiet conversation with his nephew.

Minutes later, Lexa proceeded Jack up a flight of old wooden stairs and into a secluded room that overlooked the downstairs bar.

A lonely man sat in a dark corner smoking a cigar. He looked at her suspiciously when she took the last step, but his leathered face smoothed out when he saw Jack climbing the stairs behind her.

"This is a gentlemen's bar parlor," Jack explained in hushed tones. His gaze slid to the lonely figure in the corner. "Or what counts as gentlemen these days," he added with a wink as they slid into a booth towards the rear end of the room. "When my uncle bought the place, he invited women to sign a petition for a 'lady-parlor', as he didn't want them to feel discriminated against, but after a particularly long night, one of his regulars climbed up on the table and shouted: 'If I spend three hours at home dressing up, there should at least be guys in the room where I'm having my beer.'"

Lexa laughed. "So the lady-parlor was never built?"

"No." Jack chuckled.

"So how come I'm allowed up here?"

"Rules don't apply to girlfriends of relatives. I thought you might enjoy the experience."

She did. Although the room was clearly designed for a male clientele with sails and fish mockups on the walls and the scent of oak and bourbon heavy in the air, the sheer fact that she was one of very few women to ever see it made her feel special. Jack's description of her as his girlfriend made the moment even more remarkable.

Feeling unusually bold, Lexa leaned over to press her lips to the corner of Jack's mouth, retreating before he could react to the kiss. "Thanks for bringing me here." How did he always know the exact things that would make her feel cherished?

"My pleasure." The look in his eyes curled her toes, and she almost missed when Jack's uncle arrived with two mugs of steaming tea. He sat the drinks down on the table and Lexa wrapped her fingers around the porcelain. The golden liquid smelled delicious and warmed her hands almost as nicely as Jack's had when they had walked hand in hand earlier.

"What's in there?" she asked. She could smell orange, clove, cinnamon and a strong undertone of liquor.

"Trade secret." Jack's uncle winked. "Try it."

The tea burnt into Lexa's stomach, spreading warmth through all her limbs. "It tastes like heaven."

"It's really strong too."

She could feel it. She had only had one sip.

***

Her face had started to glow red and Jack barely held back a grin. She was far from drunk, but nicely cuddly as he walked her home to her apartment.

"Do you want to come up?" she asked looking over her shoulder expectantly.

Hell yes, he wanted to come up. He had wanted to come up to her apartment since the first time he had laid eyes on her.

They climbed the six flights of stairs together and entered the quiet apartment.

"Where's Molly?"

"Out with some friends."

She turned to look at him, and wrung her hands in front of her body.

Definitely not used to having a guy in her apartment. The thought pleased him immensely. He shrugged off his coat and moved to take her jacket.

"Uh, did you want to see the apartment?"

Jack couldn't help the smile curving his lips. She was so cute. "Not necessarily."

"Oh," her face fell, and he could see her brain working.

"I would love to see your bedroom though."

He wondered if he would ever get tired of seeing her flush. She slid her gaze away and pointed to his right.

"In there," she whispered.

The room was more feminine than he had expected. White curtains draped over the windows; pictures decorated the walls. An office desk held her laptop, a stack of bright pink post-it notes, and a framed photo showing Lexa and her parents smiling into the camera. A queen-sized bed was shoved into the corner.

Hearing her fidgeting behind him, Jack turned to find her clenching and unclenching her fingers.

"Relax." He ran his hands over her arms, feeling goose bumps rise under his palms. Her jumpiness after she had been so forward earlier made him wonder what had happened. Determined to help her lose some of her nervousness, Jack slipped his hands around her face and cupped her cheeks. She still looked shell-shocked, but didn't retreat when he slowly tilted his head towards her. He didn't close his eyes this time, holding her gaze, as he brushed his lips over her mouth.

"Just a kiss," he whispered, feeling her breath on his face. "We've done this before."

Still moving slowly, he fit his lips over her mouth, teasing her. Tasting her.

She made a little whimper in the back of her throat and Jack couldn't help but deepening the kiss. His hands released her face and then wrapped around her body, her own arms coming up to wrap around his neck. _Yes._

He walked her back, until her knees hit the bed and lowered her down onto the mattress. He roamed her body with his hands, wishing he could take off her clothes. Wishing he could take off his. He wanted to feel her naked skin sliding against his. Everywhere.

He traced his fingers from her hip to her waist, pushing the hem of her shirt up. Up, until he could feel the softness of her against the palm of his hand. Keeping their lips fastened together, he repositioned his body until he lay in the cradle of her thighs.

Damn. He could feel her heat even through her denim.

The breath he exhaled came out as a groan. As if the sudden sound startled her, Lexa stiffened beneath him.

_No. Please._

Jack cursed himself inwardly for his impatience. He had gone too fast, too soon. And now he was probably on her fucking shitlist. He wasn't surprised when he felt her hands push against him, and he rolled off her, covering his eyes in the crook of his arm.

***

"I—" Damn. He wasn't even looking at her. Her fingers trembled as she stretched them out, then pulled them back before she could touch him.

"I-I'm a virgin." The words exploded from her mouth. Lexa pressed her lips together, waiting to see the disbelief on his face. She was twenty-two for goodness sake. Most of her friends had had boyfriends for years. But it was the only thing that could even remotely explain why she had stopped him when he had barely even touched her yet.

When they had walked up to her apartment, she had been determined to just go with the flow. Keep her mouth shut and get rid of that exasperating inexperience hopefully without him noticing. But once he started kissing her, not saying anything had felt wrong.

He lifted his arm slightly and looked at her through the slit.

"I gathered."

He did? Oh god. Had she been that bad?

She scrambled back on the bed, pulling her shirt back down, feeling ridiculously defensive. "How?" she demanded.

He must have realized that a lot was hinging on his answer, because he uncovered his face completely and regarded her warily.

"You weren't nervous until we came into the apartment," he explained. "It just seemed like you had never done this sort of thing before."

She chewed her lip. "I haven't."

"I don't care."

_Really?_ "Are you just trying to be nice?"

"No. I'm trying to be honest. It's actually quite a turn on."

"To sleep with someone inexperienced?" She doubted it.

"To know I'll be your first. Women always remember their first." He gave her a crooked grin and Lexa hauled in a deep breath.

Did that mean he was expecting her to have more than one lover? More than him? Was he getting ready to leave her, before they had even slept together? The thought made her stomach squeeze.

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Telling you that I wanted you to remember me was supposed to show you how much you mean to me."

Blood flooded her face. Why did she always have to jump to negative conclusions first? When would she learn that her first assumption was usually the wrong one when it came to Jack?

"Thank you." The words came out haltingly. She chewed her lip. "I... Do you want to try again?" She slid her gaze away, hoping he would say yes. Hoping he wouldn't.

"Absolutely."

Her eyes flickered back to his as anticipation and dread mingled in her blood. She wanted this. But...god. "Can we wait a little bit longer?"

Ruby had been right. She couldn't push herself just because she thought she should. Just because Jack was an opportunity to lose her virginity.

This was her first time and she didn't want to rush it. She wanted it to feel _right_. "I-I think I'm not quite ready yet."

He smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. "If that's what it takes to make you feel better. We can wait as long as you need." He kissed her lips. "It gives me something to look forward to."

Tension drained out of her muscles at his casual tone.

"We still have our dinner date tomorrow night, right?" he asked. "Eight o'clock at my apartment?"

She nodded.

Maybe being herself and standing up for what _she_ wanted didn't mean the end of a relationship right away after all.

# **Chapter 13**

"Mary-Lou."

Jack smothered the irritation that tried to creep into his voice as he picked up the work-related call the next evening. It was Saturday night for god's sake, and he was fixing dinner for Lexa. He was nervous as hell about her coming over and really couldn't deal with the annoyance that was Mary-Lou at the moment. Unfortunately, the cougar didn't – and never had – cared about his feelings.

Sure enough her purr trickled into his ear. "Jack, my dear."

Jack gritted his teeth and barely kept from explaining the meaning of the term _weekend_ to Mary-Lou. He wasn't supposed to piss off his first major client. It was difficult to remember, though, when his first major client did everything to piss _him_ off.

"Mary-Lou, I'm afraid I'm in somewhat of a hurry."

"This won't take long," she promised. "I just wanted to invite you to our pre-launch ballroom party next weekend."

"Ballroom party?" he asked.

"A marketing event, prior to the launch of the first show in two weeks' time. Teddy and I have invited a number of reporters to join us for a press conference and subsequent party on Teddy's yacht. There will be food and dancing. The dress code for the evening is black tie. As the project liaison, we are expecting you to be there to answer potential technical questions and show your skills in a ballroom." She chuckled. "I intend to claim as many dances with you as I can."

Jack didn't like the setup. It sounded more like a tête-à-tête than a business meeting. But he could hardly blow her off. Especially not when he heard her next words.

"The event will start on Saturday at eight o'clock. I have invited an OnComm representative to join us. They've been contacting us repeatedly over the last few weeks. As far as I understand, they are quite keen on getting back into business with us for subsequent projects. Of course, Corporate Calls is our preferred partner, but I am trying to keep all channels open until the successful wrap of the project."

In other words, she was trying to keep him on a leash. Make sure he was doing her every bidding by threatening to give their future projects to Corporate Calls's competitor. Jack wasn't dumb, but he was in somewhat of a tight spot. No way could he refuse her invitation, not with OnComm there to swoop in and steal their business if given half a chance."

"I'll be there."

He could almost imagine the cat-ate-the-canary smile on Mary-Lou's face. "I knew I could count on you, Jack. Have a lovely evening."

God, he really hated the woman.

***

She was beautiful standing in the doorway in her little black dress, looking shy and self-conscious. As if he could do anything but love the way she looked.

Her hair was swept up, away from her face, leaving her eyes to glow in the dim hallway light. Her skin was luminous against the dark backdrop of her clothes; almost perfect, except for the scars on the side of her face that she had left deliberately untouched. Jack loved that she had believed him when he said he didn't mind the mark on her.

"Come on in." He stepped back to let her pass, giving in to the urge to brush his mouth across her lips before taking her coat and guiding her into the kitchen.

"Food will be done in another few minutes."

"You cooked?" She looked over her shoulder wide-eyed.

"What did you expect?"

She chewed her lip. "I guess it makes sense, as we're staying in. I think I never pegged you for the cooking type." She looked sheepish as she said it and Jack wondered how to react to the comment.

Had she actually expected for him to order takeout? And did she think he was cheap, continuously taking her out to family-owned businesses and opting for a home-cooked meal rather than some fancy restaurant food? He had always thought girls loved guys who cooked for them. But what did he know? His previous relationships hadn't really been all that involved.

"I know an Italian restaurant around the corner that does deliveries," he offered, holding his breath, telling himself he didn't care if she scorned his lasagna. Knowing full well that he was lying to himself.

"No need." She waved him off. "This smells delicious."

The air rushed from his lungs at the smile she gave him.

God, he loved it when she looked at him like that. As if she couldn't believe how lucky she was.

In reality, _he_ was the lucky one to have her in his apartment. After such a long time.

He pulled out a chair at the table for her and handed her a glass of wine.

_Whatever you do, go slow_ , he reminded himself. He had already spooked her once, yesterday in her bedroom. The last thing he wanted to do was spook her again.

***

Lexa stepped into the bedroom and sucked in a quiet breath. This was it. Decision time.

She felt a renewed flash of the nervousness that Jack had so effectively quenched with his easy charm during dinner. Now she doubted anything could disperse the tension.

She was glad he hadn't insisted on the bright overhead light. She didn't think she'd be able to look him in the eye.

"Are you anxious?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Was she ever.

"I, uh... Yes." Lexa nodded, turning back to look at him and couldn't help but stare. He was leaning against the door jamb, wine glass in hand. Another of his white work shirts set off his tan, even in the dim light from the hallway. He had opened the second button earlier, when he had served the lasagna and the additional patch of skin made Lexa's mouth go dry. She wanted to run her fingers over that patch, feel the coarse hair under her fingertips. Press her mouth to the strong column of his throat. She licked her lips and saw his Adam's apple bob in response.

"We don't have to do...anything, you know?" he said, his gaze intense as he surveyed her in his bedroom. His tousled hair was just perfect for her fingers to run through.

Lexa's hands clenched into fists at her sides. She swallowed. "I know. I want to. It's just..." She blew out a breath, her gaze sliding away. "Can you just...make a start? I might chicken out otherwise."

The corner of his mouth kicked up as he pushed away from the frame and set the glass carefully on the nightstand. Then he stalked towards her, his eyes never leaving hers, as he curled his hand around her cheek. "Something, like kiss you?" he asked, tracing his thumb along her lips. Slowly. So slowly. Until she could feel her muscles relax. Until she fell into his beautiful, beautiful eyes. Even in the near darkness, they seemed to glow with an inner light. A heat that burned her all the way down to her toes and set her body on fire.

They held hers, as he lowered his head, fitting his mouth over hers. The feeling of his lips, so familiar after the last few days, still managed to send a jolt through her system and she was glad when his arms came around her to counteract her weakening knees. Her own arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

He intensified the kiss, their tongues tangling, his hands molding to the curves of her ass.

"Jack?" Her feet were hovering above the ground.

"Wrap your legs around my hips, Lexa." His voice was so low it rumbled along her nerve endings. The use of her name shivered over her skin.

He carried her to his bed, laying her down, nibbling her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. When he pushed her dress up to her hips Lexa's heart slammed against her ribs.

"You look stunning." He trailed his lips over her belly until her breath hitched in her throat and she trembled beneath him.

"Let me see all of you." He pulled at the dress until the fabric tangled itself free of her body. Her bra released with a quiet click.

Lexa had a second to feel a flash of modesty. Then he opened his shirt fully to take it off and she forgot all about her own nakedness.

He was gorgeous. Broad-shouldered, the muscles in his chest shifted with every move of his arms. His stomach was well-defined without being ripped. A thin trail of hair disappeared into his low-slung jeans.

The unbuckling of his belt sounded loud in the quiet room.

Lexa held her breath as he pulled the fabric down.

"You okay?"

She looked up to find him watching her, and nodded her head. "Can I touch you?" She didn't manage more than a whisper.

At his nod, she trailed her fingers lightly over his abs and felt his stomach muscles clench. When she ran her thumb along the waistband of his boxer shorts, he sucked in a breath and caught her hand.

"You first."

He gave her fingers a kiss that made heat curl low in her belly before setting her hand on the bed beside her hip. He gently urged her to lay back, his mouth trailing a blazing path over her naked skin. "Jack?"

"Mmh?"

His tongue flicked her nipple and Lexa's back arched off the bed. How was she supposed to think when he did that to her?

"Jack?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a condom?"

He choked out a laugh and Lexa could have kicked herself for blurting out the question.

"I do." He picked up the small package from where he must have laid it down next to them without her noticing. "I've got us covered. See?" He laid the cool wrapper on her belly.

"I'm not very good at this," Lexa said.

"You're doing fine," Jack answered dropping a soft kiss below her navel. "You just surprised me, that's all. I didn't expect you to actually ask. It's good. Important." He pulled her panties down to her ankles, staying her legs when she would have closed them otherwise.

"Don't."

She looked at him kneeling before her, watching her with so much heat in his eyes her breath caught in her throat.

"Don't hide from me."

The muscles in her legs, her whole body yielded at the request and the corner of his mouth curled upwards.

He let go of her then, his eyes drinking her in, his white teeth sinking into his full lower lip.

"Aw, fuck." He said it so tenderly, the tone of his voice a complete contrast to the meaning of the word. "Fuck," he said again, trailing a single digit over her mound, lower, until he could push inside her. Until she couldn't help but lift her hips to push _him_ inside her, despite the embarrassment burning her cheeks. Until her back arched off the bed and she could do nothing but beg him for more. _More._ He gave her more. Pushing a second finger inside her. Filling her. Driving her higher and higher, until she felt like she was going to shatter. Her muscles coiled tight. She clutched at the bed. Her head twisted from side to side and still he was moving at the same excruciating speed.

"Please," she whispered. It was all she could say. "Please."

A groan escaped her. A noise unlike any she had made before. But she didn't care any longer, couldn't care. She needed something. Something more than the mere friction of his fingers. She needed...

His thumb flicked the nub at her entrance and the room around Lexa sheeted to white.

***

She was gorgeous, Jack thought as he watched her float down, back to him.

He was still surprised she had let him do this to her. Let him make her come with his hand. It was such an intimate thing to do. To let someone watch you in the throes of an orgasm while they stayed all cool and remote. Not that he was cool and remote in any way. Fuck, he was so turned on his hands were shaking.

But she had certainly undone him with her trust. He had never thought someone inexperienced would allow that kind of intimacy.

He had needed to try anyway, because his control had left about the same time Lexa had walked through his front door, and he was in no way certain he could make her come again once he was inside her. And no way was he allowing Lexa's first time to be anything but fucking awesome for her.

He pushed at his boxer shorts, not missing the way Lexa's befuddled gaze sharpened and she sucked in a breath.

"I'll go slow," he promised. "As slow as you want. Just please, don't tell me you've changed your mind." He didn't know how he would be able to pull back now that he had felt her heat around his fingers.

She shook her head mutely and he exhaled a pent up breath. He grabbed the foil packet from where it had fallen off her stomach and sheathed himself somewhat awkwardly.

His hands were shaking so damn hard.

"Are you sure?" Damn, how often did he have to ask her?

"Are _you_ sure?" The side of her mouth quirked, although he could see the vulnerability in her eyes.

God, did she honestly believe he could walk away from her now?

He positioned himself above her, unable to hold back a groan when he felt her heat against his naked flesh. "Damn sure." He took her lips in a bruising kiss, all finesse gone as he nudged inside her, his eyes squeezing shut in pure pleasure, his breath hissing out between his clenched teeth.

"Jack?"

"Easy," he said, as she squirmed beneath him. "Easy."

He pushed in another inch feeling like he was going to burst any second. His eyes rolled back in his head when her internal muscles gripped him. Fuck, he had never made love to a virgin before. This going slow business was slowly killing him.

At least he was enjoying his death. Inch by bloody, painful inch.

He finally moved inside her fully and the sensation was almost more than he could take. Pulling every ounce of control he never thought he had, he took a look at Lexa to check she was still okay. He wanted to ask her, but words had fled him. She wasn't pushing him away. It had to be enough at this point.

Gritting his teeth, he set up a steady rhythm, unbelievably grateful that he had had the sense to make her come before. His control was absolutely non-existent. Even so, he managed to increase his speed barely, well aware that he was big and she was oh-so-fucking tight. He felt sweat bead on his forehead, his arms straining with the effort to hold back. He wasn't going to last much longer. He could feel his body taking over. Praying, praying that he wasn't being too rough, unable to hear anything but his own blood rushing in his ears, his breath panting in an out of his lungs as he strained towards his release.

He felt her shatter beneath him, as she impossibly came a second time, her muscles gripping him like a vise. The sensation was too much. His muscles coiled tight, a shudder chased up his spine and with a groan he followed her over the edge.

# **Chapter 14**

On Sunday, Michael used his own key to let himself into Edward's place. He wasn't sure why he had allowed his brothers to bully him into having brunch with the two of them and Jack's new girlfriend. Not that he didn't like Lexa. He thought she was great. He thought she was even greater for Jack. But he didn't want to watch the two making lovey-dovey eyes at each other while he had to sit next to them making polite conversation. It was different at work. Whatever Michael could tease his brother with, Jack knew how to separate work and private life. Lexa seemed to know too, because – except for a few stolen glances here and there – the two of them acted very professional. Until they left the front door of Corporate Calls. Michael doubted he would have as much luck today.

At least he wouldn't go hungry, he thought, when the enticing smells of eggs and bacon beckoned him closer to the little kitchen nook that Edward had furnished with all the appliances an ex-pastry-chef could ever need. Michael and Jack had teased him mercilessly about the feminine setup, but Edward had shut them both up quickly by handing out invitations to brunches that always turned out to be the best ones in a twenty mile radius.

The smell of coffee mingled with that of bacon and toast when Michael took off his shoes – another rule of momma Edward – and headed towards the kitchen area. If the coffee smelled this good, it meant Edward was operating the machine. So at least Michael wouldn't have to meet the lovers without a hefty dose of caffeine in his system.

Indeed, his brother was standing at the coffee machine, apron around his lean body. Michael really needed to talk to his brothers about being a little bit manlier.

He discarded the thought when Edward held out a mug of steaming coffee. "For you brother," he said with a mischievous smile that told Michael he knew exactly that he had escaped a lecture only because Michael didn't want to piss off the best coffee-maker in the family.

"Where's the twosome?" he asked after a fortifying sip of the strong brew.

"In the nook. But the twosome's a threesome."

Michael felt his brows climb up to his hairline. That sounded much more interesting already. "Hot?" he asked.

Edward showed a row of pearly whites. "Damn hot. She's a firecracker."

So it wasn't Edward's newest conquest they were talking about. Although Edward had a habit of dating firecrackers, he was one protective bastard and would never talk about his girlfriend like that. Not even to his brothers. No matter what.

A bad feeling settled in the pit of Michael's stomach. If it wasn't Edward's new girlfriend sitting out there and it was definitely not someone Jack had invited... That meant it had to be someone Lexa knew. And only one person came to mind that fit Edward's description. Michael carefully set the coffee mug on the counter. Then picked it back up again – he wanted to have something to do with his hands. Michael walked around the corner and stopped short at the sight.

Lexa and Jack were sitting to one side of the couch laughing and giggling. Michael was glad to see that Lexa did all the giggling while Jack still had his deep manly laugh. But it wasn't the pair of them that held his interest. It was the person who had to all appearances told the joke that his brother was laughing at.

Molly Rogers. Oh yes, he had found out her last name, although it was difficult to remember when he looked at the way she was dressed. For a Sunday morning brunch no less.

A flirty dress dropped so low on her chest, he hoped, uh, worried with every shift of her body that she would indecently expose herself. Her hair was swept up in a style that Michael was sure had some fancy name. Her make-up was understated, which somehow made her look even sexier. And Edward had noticed it, too. The thought brought an uncomfortable feeling to Michael's chest and a scowl to his face.

She looked up, then, to see him standing in the doorway and the smile on her face vanished. He hated that he had that effect on her, that she slipped on that cool mask while he was burning up at the mere sight of her.

"Ow. Shit." He suddenly realized he had held the coffee mug for way too long, singeing his fingers. He put the mug down.

"Hey Michael."

His brother's greeting saved him from dealing with Ms. Frost for another few seconds. Michael bestowed a kiss on Lexa's cheek. Something he would never do in the office. But he had already established that she could separate work and private life. Unfortunately, he realized too late that left him no choice but to kiss Molly's cheek as well. Unless he wanted to be rude, which wasn't really an option. His parents had brought him up too well.

_Just play it cool_ , he told himself. He knew how to do that. Did it every day with the jerks from the major corporations who thought they were better than him. How was it that one woman could fluster the hell out of him?

He cupped her shoulder in his hand, so slender it almost vanished, and gave her what he hoped was a polite non-committal smile. "Nice to see you again, Molly." He leaned in for a brush of his lips against her cheek and almost groaned. The perfume she was wearing was pure sex. Her skin beneath his lips was soft and he barely held himself back from nuzzling behind her ear, where he thought he located the origin of the delicious smell. He pulled back with force, not missing the fact that she hadn't moved at all. She hadn't kissed his cheek back.

"You too." Was all that escaped her throat, before she shrugged minutely to get rid of his hand on her shoulder and sat back in her chair, as far away from him as possible.

Michael suppressed a frustrated growl.

***

He smelled like coffee and man.

Molly gritted her teeth and forced herself to keep the cool façade in place. He had insulted her the last time they met and she had insulted him right back. The evening had ended in a disaster that could have easily cost her friend her job and Molly was not going to forget that anytime soon.

It had been a shock when she had looked up and seen Michael standing in the doorway, watching her with a scowl on his face.

She told herself she should be lucky that he didn't hold Lexa accountable for what Molly had done, but did he really have to look as if she was a bug that had crawled into his brother's house? She had apologized for god's sake.

She had seen the hesitation before he leaned in to kiss her cheek. She knew he had only done it because he had made the mistake of greeting Lexa like that.

Molly had almost told him to not freaking bother. But as much of a surprise as it had been to see him here – she wouldn't have come had she known he was invited, too – she was determined to stay calm and cool this time. She wouldn't let this infuriating male get the better of her a second time. If nothing else than for Lexa's sake.

Molly was glad when Jack's other brother, Edward, finally came back from making coffee for everyone. Unlike Michael, Edward was as easygoing as they came. Probably a result of dealing with customers in a coffee shop all day long. She had felt comfortable talking to him from the get go. The fact that he was a sexy hunk didn't hurt.

She was glad when he took the seat on her other side and struck up an easy conversation with her. She even found her laugh again a few minutes later when they all dug into the beautifully arranged plates of food on the table – another of Edward's multiple talents.

It could have been perfect. Only, it wasn't. Mostly because the dark figure at her right seemed to grow darker by the minute and she felt almost as if he was physically pressing in on her. No matter how much she tried to focus on Edward, Jack, and Lexa she couldn't escape the brooding guy next to her.

She wondered why it was that she had to have the hots for the only man who didn't like her in the entire world.

# **Chapter 15**

"We've received an invitation. Yours has perfume on it."

Jack rolled his eyes as he took the pink envelope Michael held out to him at the office on Wednesday afternoon. His brother hadn't been kidding. The envelope was perfumed – doused really. It didn't take a genius to figure out who sent it.

"What's the invitation for?" Jack touched the letter with the care he would take when touching a poisonous snake – or a wildcat.

"Teddy wants to invite us to the opening show of TGADO."

"Teddy wants to?"

"Well, you know that Teddy wants what Mary-Lou wants. So, yeah, Teddy wants to." Michael grinned at him.

Jack sighed. He had been dreading this invitation since his first meeting with Mary-Lou. It wasn't uncommon for them to get invited to the go-live of a project. However, this particular go-live he would have happily passed on.

Wasn't it enough that he was going to the damned press conference on Saturday? Did he really have to suffer the cougar's advances for another weekend?

"You can bring a date."

Michael's comment pulled Jack back to the present.

An image of Lexa – how she had looked, lying naked in his bed on Sunday morning, cheeks flushed, eyes brilliant in her lovely face, flashed through his mind. She had spent Sunday night at his apartment too, and they had burned up the sheets before the night was over. He had put up a brave façade when she went back to her own place on Monday to allow him to deal with the shitload of work he was currently buried under. But really, he would have preferred to come home to her every night.

The only thing that kept him from insisting she stay was the thought of her alone in his apartment all evening, waiting for him. He couldn't do that to her. Not yet.

After the project was finished, however, he intended to talk to her about maybe moving in with him. No way was he letting her go again now that he had finally made her his.

And if he had to work long hours again, well, they'd just have to figure something out. Because every day he spent with her, it became more difficult to spend his nights away from her.

Jack looked back at the envelope in his hand. The project launch was at least one evening he would be able to see her. If he was willing to bring her along.

He scowled when Michael continued to stare at him. "Hell of a decision, brother, isn't it? Bring her along and the two of them may claw each other's eyes out. Don't bring her and...well, you'll send the wrong message to both."

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "What do _you_ think?" he asked his brother. As senior partner of the company – and Lexa's boss – Michael should have something to say in the matter.

"I wouldn't mind seeing the show."

Jack didn't ask which show Michael was referring to.

Even if Lexa and Mary-Lou managed to behave themselves, viewers wouldn't forget the launch of the new season of TGADO for a while. The Corporate Calls team was putting a lot of effort into getting the product ready in time for the launch. Everyone was excited. The Garnetts had done their bit too. It was dancer's choice for props and dance styles on this first installment of the season and from what Jack had heard, the numbers ranged from classic line dancing to exotic belly dance.

"I'll _have to_ take her." It wasn't even really a question. After the last few days he wanted to make damn sure that Lexa knew she was his girlfriend. For better or worse, with Marie-Lou around or not.

"But you know what that means, right?" Jack looked at Michael, who was enjoying Jack's predicament way too much. Well, Michael wouldn't be laughing in another three seconds.

"What does it mean?" his brother asked mildly.

"Mary-Lou will latch back onto you as the bachelor brother."

The pained look on his brother's face almost made Jack laugh.

***

"Are you sure?" Lexa asked for the third time, unable to believe Jack would ask her – _her_ – to accompany him to the live event.

Sure, they were kind of together, but that would take their relationship to a whole new level. It would make them official. Big time. They would be on TV in front of millions of people.

Even more importantly, they would be together in front of Mary-Lou.

"Am I sure if I want to take my girlfriend to the most important project launch of the year? Damn straight, I'm sure." He smiled at her and Lexa couldn't help the giddy feeling bubbling in her chest.

She had barely had any time to talk to Jack since Monday morning, after another fabulous night of him driving her out of her mind. With the pre-launch party scheduled for the upcoming Saturday, the week so far had been a blur. Everyone at Corporate Calls was running around frantically trying to get the last changes implemented.

Jack spent most of the time with their team to work out the last kinks in the programming, while Lexa was busy testing all of the new components and giving feedback on even more problems and issues.

Mary-Lou was an almost permanent installment in the office. An ethereal presence that seemed to render every guy stupid as soon as she walked through the door.

Lexa was glad that at least Jack didn't exhibit the same symptoms, although he still doted on her while Mary-Lou did her best to flirt up a storm. Lexa wished Jack would finally step up and draw the line.

She wondered if the Housewife would be equally all over Jack at the upcoming pre-launch party. The thought dispersed a huge chunk of her giddiness. It was hard enough watching the two of them working together. To think that they had a whole evening of socializing, dining, and dancing without Lexa present, was driving her quietly crazy.

She seriously would have to find some way to keep herself occupied on Saturday, because she worried she might otherwise spend the whole evening staring at the clock.

***

"I'm having a party," Lexa announced on Thursday after the door had closed behind the last pole-girl and a split-second before Ruby could blow out their eardrums with her newest warm-up song-collection.

The party had been Molly's idea – who else's? – but for once Lexa had been fully on board. While she hated going out to clubs and getting slobbered over by drunken guys, she loved girls' parties at home. She could stay up all night with the right crowd, singing and dancing and having fun. At least she hoped she would have fun knowing that Jack was firmly in Mary-Lou's clutches for the night. In any case, the party would be a great way to finally introduce Molly to everyone.

"Lovely," Emily beamed up at Lexa from where she was stretching her muscles on the floor. "When does it start?"

"We'll have food at eight."

"Oh no, no, no," Angie shook her head vehemently. "I'm on a diet."

"Not on Saturday," Tracy said, for once channeling her disagreement towards something that everyone agreed with. Except for Angie.

"It's not by choice. It's by necessity. Look at this." Angie grabbed a chunk of skin at her waist. "I'm fat."

"You're well-nourished."

"Which basically means fat."

Tracy – who had, much to Lexa's surprise, dropped almost all of her hostility after the incident last week – shook her head and shot Lexa a reproachful look. "See what happens when I try to be nice?"

"You make friends?" Lexa asked. "That's what friends do. They bicker with each other about their weight."

"If that's what friendship means, I'd rather be alone." But the small smile lurking in the corners of her mouth said she was lying through her teeth.

"What about you Ruby?" Lexa asked.

"Sorry girls, it's our wedding anniversary."

"What a shame. Not the anniversary," Lexa said quickly.

"I know, hun. I would love to come."

"Wouldn't we all," Angie sighed, causing a few of the girls to roll their eyes.

"Get your mind out of the gutter," Tracy said.

"It's the only time I don't think about food," Angie defended her overactive imagination.

Lexa jumped in before the conversation could get out of control without her having a definite answer.

"Except for Ruby, is everyone else in? I need to know for food."

"You bet. We're all coming," Gigi said, shooting a sideways look at Angie. "Some of us may even come twice."

The group was almost uncontrollable after that, making plans for the party, bickering over what they wanted to bring along.

Lexa felt almost sorry for Ruby, thinking she should have waited until after class to tell them about the invite. But Ruby managed to rein them in with the stoicism of a long-time pole teacher.

In the end, conversations slowly ground to a halt as everyone panted after climbing and inverting on the pole for the tenth time in a row.

Ruby gave them a smile that was all teeth. "Now that I have your attention, girls, we're going to learn a new move."

A groan ran through the class.

# **Chapter 16**

Lexa felt like a nervous wreck.

She shot another look at the clock over the kitchen counter. It was almost time. Jack would already be on his way to the harbor. Not long and he would exit the limousine Mary-Lou had sent to pick him up. Then he would walk his tux onto the yacht and straight into the vicinity of the one person who was hell-bent on seducing him.

Lexa barely held back a groan.

Jack had told her she could contact him on his cell if she needed him, an offer she wished he hadn't made because she had caught herself at least ten times already with her phone in her hand, seriously considering asking him – no, begging him – not to go. Only the last shreds of pride she had left kept her from making such a stupid mistake. Where had all her sensibility gone over the last few weeks? She knew she needed to trust Jack. But instead of getting more confident in their relationship, the only thing growing seemed to be the fear inside her that he was going to leave her for one reason or another.

"If he's going to fall for her, he's not worth it anyway."

Lexa lifted her head to look at Molly who had somehow entered the kitchen without her noticing.

"Doesn't make it any easier, though," she said, putting her phone back down and staring at it miserably. The more he started to mean to her, the more she worried that she wasn't good enough for him. And now this. A whole evening of waiting and wondering.

An image of Mary-Lou flashed behind Lexa's eyelids, the way she had looked every single time Lexa had seen her. Beautiful, sexy. Freaking self-confident.

The thoughts weren't helping.

"Why would Jack even want to resist her?"

"Because he has you," was Molly's simple answer.

"I'm nowhere near as classy as Mary-Lou."

"Nobody who stoops to cheating can be called classy in my books," Molly countered.

Lexa had to concede the point. Still, Mary-Lou knew exactly what she wanted. And what she wanted was Jack.

Lexa doubted Mary-Lou would ask Jack if he had a condom just when things were beginning to get hot. No, _she_ would probably look at him from underneath her lashes and suggestively pull one of the foil packets out of her bra, then use her tongue to roll the thing on him.

Hell, why stop there? Lexa was certain Mary-Lou could turn almost anything into a sexual experience. She probably even looked hot taking off her socks. Not that Mary-Lou would ever wear socks. Not even panty-hose. Lexa was almost certain the only thing that was allowed to grace Mary-Lou's legs were stay-ups, preferably with a lace-trimmed edge and hooked to a garter.

"Can you hide a garter underneath a dress?"

Molly looked at her incredulously. "He's not going to fall for her. Jack's so in love with you he doesn't even see any other women. Believe me, I tried to hit on him when you disappeared into the kitchen with Edward the other day."

Lexa's jaw almost hit the floor. "You did what?"

"Only for you, girlfriend." Molly flashed her a quicksilver smile. "Don't worry. He put me in my place right away. Very gentlemanly too. I think he knew what I was up to. Too smart for his own good that kid."

"Kid? He's three years older than you are."

"He's still a boy. And what would I do with a nice boy like Jack? I need a man."

"Jack _is_ a man."

"Well, I need a manlier man. Someone who doesn't crumble the first time another guy hits on me. Someone who defends his territory, packs a punch and doesn't take no for an answer. A big, bad, hairy..."

"Monkey. I'll find you a monkey, Molly. I'm sure you'll get along beautifully."

Before Molly could answer, they heard the doorbell ringing and Lexa ran to the window to look outside and six stories down.

"Top floor. The door on the right." She called down to the small group of giggling girls, recognizing the buzz as Molly unlocked the front door.

There were only two apartments on their floor. One was their place, the other one was Jack's old accommodation, which was now lived in by a young female social worker who spent most of her time abroad.

The layout of the two apartments was almost identical, according to Jack, except that his old apartment was mirror-inverted.

A wooden door led into a small entrance area that Lexa and Molly had crammed with all kinds of...stuff. To the right was Lexa's bedroom overlooking the street. Straight ahead was a little dining room nook that led off into the kitchen. Through the kitchen and to the back was Molly's bedroom, that sported a tiny balcony overlooking the backyards of other properties. On warm summer nights, Molly and Lexa often sat outside, enjoying the slightly fresher air high up on the sixth floor and listening to the occasional chirp of a bird.

Although they normally kept the doors to their bedrooms closed – not that it kept Molly from snooping through Lexa's things – every door in the apartment was wide open when they had a party like today.

A knock sounded at the door and Lexa opened it to a wave of excitement.

"Where's Tracy?" she asked as the girls filed into the entrance hall one by one.

"Running late." Angie waved her phone, surprising Lexa that it would be _her_ of all people knowing the whereabouts of Tracy.

In any case, Angie was right.

Lexa and Molly were ready to plate the curry when the doorbell rang again.

"That has to be her," Lexa said, ladle poised over the pot.

"I'll get it," Molly answered, having just finished the rice for their green curry.

"Don't worry, I'll—" But Molly was already out of the kitchen.

Lexa quickly plated the first dish. It wasn't that she was worried, she told herself. Tracy had changed a lot over the last week and a half. But Lexa knew what could happen if two hard-headed personalities met each other without intervention.

She wanted Molly and Tracy to get along, not tear each other's heads off.

"Come in girlfriend. I don't bite," she heard Molly say when she finally emerged from the kitchen.

"I'm not your girlfriend."

Uh-oh. Lexa had told Molly about Tracy's ability to piss people off, but that wouldn't help if Molly didn't like Tracy. Thankfully, her friend was playing perfect host. Which in Tracy's case required a healthy dose of sarcasm.

"Oh lighten up, will you? Lexa told me about your dark side, Luke."

Lexa grinned. Nobody could hold out against Molly if she was in this kind of mood.

Satisfied that there would be no catfights disturbing the evening, Lexa sat down the dish she was still holding in front of Angie, who promptly sniffed the steam rising from the bowl.

Emily pushed her elbow into Angie's side. "Manners, girl. Do you have any?"

"I haven't eaten all day," Angie whined. "I wanted to make sure I could try Lexa's curry without regrets. It smells fantastic. What's in there?"

"Carrots, potatoes, full-fat coconut milk..."

"Full-fat coconut milk?" Angie squeaked. "I'll have to diet for a week to eat that. Oh my god." She sniffed the bowl again.

"Are you going to inhale the food?" Tracy asked sarcastically.

"Is that possible? Steam doesn't have any calories, does it?"

"Negative calories," Molly said with a straight face that only she could pull off.

"What are negative calories?"

"It's when you use more calories to digest something than the calories that are actually in the food."

A small smile spread on Angie's face. "I like negative calories."

Tracy rolled her eyes. "Are you going to tell her?" she asked, glancing around the table. "Of course not. It has to be me. You can't live on sniffing food."

Angie's face fell. "But the negative calories."

"Eat cabbage soup."

Tracy plucked the second bowl from Molly's fingers, who had just come back from the kitchen again, and dug in.

"Nobody's eating cabbage soup tonight. Party calories don't count," Molly told Angie and nobody dared disagree.

***

Lexa had just pulled the cake out of the oven and checked on the sparkling wine fruit punch when she heard her name being called from outside the kitchen. She walked back into the dining area and straight into a discussion she was sure her mother would have a heart attack over if she should ever find out.

"What's it like in a strip club?" Emily asked Gigi.

Gigi shrugged her shoulders. "Lots of naked skin, desperate men and soft lighting."

"We should come and watch you some day." Angie snatched the ladle and scraped the rest of the curry onto her plate.

Lexa saw Tracy's brows rise and grinned. Angie was all talk when it came to her figure. She was way too much of a connoisseur to ever say no to food.

"Yes please." Gigi's eyes sparkled.

"Won't you feel weird?" Tracy asked, apparently deciding to keep the peace. Something for which Lexa was eternally grateful.

"What? Dancing in front of a bunch of girls in hot pants and a bra?"

Everyone laughed.

"But don't you have to take off your bra."

"Sometimes." Gigi shrugged. "It's just boobs."

That elicited another round of laughter. "I think guys may disagree with you on that one," Molly said, as she ducked back into the kitchen.

She fit right in with the girls, Lexa realized gladly. It would have been a shame if Molly hadn't liked the girls or the other way around. It was much more fun if everyone got along. And now that they had pulled Tracy in line.

"Are you in?" Gigi asked Lexa at that moment.

"You bet." It would fit right in with her 'spice up your life' plan.

"As am I," Molly declared, carrying the cake in to a chorus of oohs and ahs. Lexa smiled. Molly loved to bake. She really was the kitchen-whizz of their couple.

Angie snatched the first piece and Tracy snorted.

"It's a date then," Gigi said, once everyone had a piece of cake and was digging into it with blatant enthusiasm. "I'll organize it. But maybe we wait another term or two until I'm better on the pole. Then I'll give you all a real show."

***

Lexa was nicely buzzed on her single glass of fruit punch, when the party finally dissolved.

"That was a success," she said to Molly as they wound down on the couch.

"A resounding success," Molly agreed. "The girls are awesome. Maybe I should start pole dancing too."

Lexa looked at her incredulously. "Seriously?"

"Nah."

They dissolved into giggles.

"Although, I wouldn't mind showing that asshole Michael that I can do something besides looking good."

That whipped Lexa's head around. "Are you still hung up on him giving you the once over in the bar?"

Molly pouted.

"You normally revel in that kind of attention," Lexa reminded her friend.

"But men normally don't have a look of distaste on their face when they look me over. What's wrong with me, Lexa?"

Oh no, Lexa knew that tone. Sometimes when Molly had a little bit too much to drink her happy-go-lucky façade would suddenly fall away, revealing the uncertain girl beneath.

"Why doesn't he like me?"

Lexa just stared. "One guy who doesn't like you and you go all crazy. Do you know how many guys don't like me?"

"But that's different."

"How."

Molly was quiet for a second. "You have Jack."

"And you have Chico and Trevis and Jonah and...you have tons."

"Exactly," Molly whined and Lexa knew full well it was the fruit punch. "I don't want tons. I just want one."

"Michael?"

"God, no." Molly shook her head vehemently. "I just can't figure out why he doesn't like me and it's driving me crazy."

"Molly Rogers, you need to have your head examined."

"No," Molly disagreed. "I just need you as the voice of reason." She looked at Lexa. "What happens with us now?"

Lexa glanced back at her. "What do you mean?"

"Are we going to see each other, once you move out?"

"Whoa, Molly. Nobody's talking about moving out."

"Jack will ask you sooner or later to move in with him."

The thought sent a flash of warmth through Lexa's belly. Then she looked back at her friend and felt her heart sink.

"He hasn't yet. It's way too early. We've only been together for a few weeks."

"You're already spending most of your time on the phone with him. Not that I'm complaining," Molly quickly assured her. "I'm happy for you. I really am. I just don't want to lose you as my friend."

Lexa wrapped her arms around Molly. "You'll never lose me as your friend. You'll just gain another friend in Jack."

# **Chapter 17**

Jack felt Mary-Lou's hand on his chest and thought this situation was wrong. They were on the yacht and the party was in full swing. Speeches were over and the guests were satisfied after a delicious meal of seafood and wine. The live band in the corner of the room had picked up their tempo and couples were whirling over the dance floor in a cacophony of colors.

The dress code for the evening was strictly tux for men and floor-length dresses for women. It was almost as if he had stepped into another time, where business was conducted during big soirées and dance cards were filled with potential suitors.

It was the second that made Jack feel uneasy at this moment, because the woman in his arms, leaning into his body, was the wrong one to dance with him.

Oblivious to her husband watching them from the far end of the ballroom, Mary-Lou pressed tighter against Jack's body as they swayed to the music she had insisted couldn't be listened to sitting down at their table.

Feeling the eyes of Teddy on him, Jack felt like he was caught between a rock and a hard place when it came to keeping Mary-Lou happy – and the cooperation with the Garnetts on track.

The media mogul didn't seem to mind that his wife had danced with every single guy at the party. Did he expect her to act like this as the hostess of the evening, or did the couple have an arrangement that was outside the norm of normal couples, Jack wondered, not even enticed for an instant if it was the latter.

Mary-Lou followed his gaze, reading his thoughts rather accurately. "Don't worry about Teddy," she purred into his ear. He and I understand that there are more important things in a marriage than faithfulness."

Which answered Jack's question, but if anything, it made him less inclined to take what Mary-Lou offered. For him, faithfulness was one of the main pillars of a relationship.

Although she didn't spell it out for him, Jack was almost certain he knew exactly what the Garnetts actually got from each other. Teddy fulfilled Mary-Lou's every financial wish and left her to live her fantasies with other guys. On the other hand, Mary-Lou was Teddy's trophy wife. An accessory to take to every business function. As far as a marriage of convenience went, Jack thought they had done better than most.

Besides being stunningly beautiful, Mary-Lou seemed to have a sharp wit and sense for business that only left her at the sight of something that she wanted more.

Jack just wished for the hundredth time that it wasn't him she wanted more.

In any case, he had no intention of poaching on another guy's territory, even if said other guy couldn't care less. It was a matter of honor. Something that – in a time of marriages of convenience – should have mattered to both Garnetts.

If it was up to him, he would gladly free himself from Mary-Lou's clutches, walk off the damned vessel and never look back. But, as he had told Lexa, it wasn't only his dignity at stake here. It was the future of the company. Although he had no doubt that Corporate Calls could survive without assignments like the _Dancing Bear_ project, the damage the Garnetts could inflict on their small company's reputation were too grand to consider. Still, Jack didn't feel comfortable swaying to the music with Mary-Lou in his arms while Lexa was waiting for him at home.

"You seem a million miles away." Mary-Lou's purr pulled him out of his thoughts as the song ended and she stroked a hand down his biceps to pull him off the dance floor and behind a wall of living fern. "What do you have on your mind?"

_My girlfriend._

He doubted the confession would go over well. On the other hand, he _wanted_ to tell her so badly. It felt inappropriate to keep his and Lexa's relationship secret for even one more second after what had transpired the weekend before. It was almost a denial by omission. And Mary-Lou would find out anyway by the following weekend. But at least then Michael would be there to deal with the fallout. They would have a higher chance of saving their future cooperation if his brother used his silver tongue on the cougar. Of that, Jack had no doubt. Surely he could hold out for one more week if it meant that he didn't have to look his brother in the eye and tell him that he had put their financial future at stake because he didn't like the way Mary-Lou looked at him. The way she danced with him. The way she kissed him.

_Fuck._ Jack pulled back abruptly, as he felt her lips on his, staring at the woman before him. Did she not have any shame at all? How could she kiss him? Here? With Teddy mere feet away and people milling around them everywhere.

"I knew that would get your attention," she said, licking her lips as if she was savoring the taste of him, and he couldn't help his hands fisting at his sides.

He felt his blood boil with anger and embarrassment. He had to get out of here, before he did something he truly regretted.

Extracting himself from the red-tipped claws of Mary-Lou with slightly more force than necessary, he took a big step back. "I am not interested," he enunciated clearly.

To hell with his client's sensibilities. He should have said the words a long time ago.

_You never object._

Lexa's words came back to him as he pushed open the door to the lower deck and almost ran down the boarding ramp that connected the yacht to the shore, glad that they hadn't actually set sail. Lexa had been right. He hadn't objected. He had held his tongue for the benefit of the company. It had been wrong. And now he was faced with a choice.

Tell Lexa what had happened and face her disappointment. Potentially her tears. Or keep the incident quiet. After all, it hadn't been his fault that Mary-Lou had kissed him. No harm, no foul, right?

He rubbed a hand over his face and hauled in a deep breath.

No, that wasn't right. He couldn't build a relationship on a lie. Not when a future with Lexa had become so important. He had to tell her.

The thought twisted his stomach.

Maybe he would wait until tomorrow. Make sure that, whatever happened, at least he could hold her one more night.

***

Lexa felt a large body slip into bed next to her some time after midnight and a small smile spread across her face. She was glad she had given Jack the spare keys to her apartment the day before. She would have worried all night, if he hadn't come back to her.

At least she had planned to worry, but that fruit punch had packed a punch alright and knocked her out before she could get too far. Even now, she hovered somewhere between wakefulness and sleep as she turned into Jack's body, her eyes refusing to open.

"How was it?" she asked on a yawn, snuggling closer to the warmth that seemed to permeate her skin and seep right down to the marrow of her bones. God, how had she managed to live for so long without that warmth?

"Stuffy. Mostly." His voice was low as he stroked the side of her face, dropping a soft kiss on her head.

Lexa hummed her appreciation. She loved the way he petted her so tenderly. As if he savored every touch. As if she was precious. Maybe it was time she should start to believe that this could work.

She sighed out a breath and felt his lungs empty at the same time. Still, the muscles in his chest stayed tense, where her hand was feeling his strong, steady heartbeat.

"Jack, what's wrong?"

She shifted, distantly realizing that his pectorals weren't the only part of him that refused to relax.

Emboldened by the cover of the night, and the dreamlike quality of their interaction, she allowed her hand to travel towards his second 'problem'. But before she could even reach the waistband of his boxer shorts, he caught her hand.

"Lexa, don't."

Confusion mingled with embarrassment as she pulled her hand away, her eyelids finally dragging open.

"Why not?"

He was nothing but a shadow in the dark.

"You're tired and I..." He exhaled another harsh breath. "You're tired," he said again.

She was. Fatigue was dragging at her even now. But he was acting weird. There was something in his voice that gave her pause.

"I'll tell you tomorrow," he promised, leaning in to kiss her eyelids, forcing her eyes shut. As if that was enough, she slid back into sleep.

# **Chapter 18**

It was all over the news. Lexa stared at the picture on her laptop screen and tried to comprehend what her brain refused to understand.

She had been doing her usual check of the headlines as soon as she got out of bed and made it across the room to her beloved computer when the article had popped up on her screen.

_Project partner more than a professional liaison?_ read the title.

Underneath was a shot of Jack and Mary-Lou kissing, their bodies separated by mere inches, Mary-Lou's hand clasped possessively around Jack's wrist.

Lexa wrapped her arms around her middle, rocking back and forth on her chair.

How could this have happened? He hadn't said anything when he had slipped into bed beside her the night before. True, her memories of their conversation were muddled in her brain, but she would have remembered _this_. She couldn't have forgotten. He hadn't _told_ her.

Had he hoped she wouldn't find out? Stupid, inexperienced Lexa. Was he even now contemplating how to best break up with her? Was this why he didn't want to have sex with her last night? _Oh god._ Lexa squeezed her eyes shut in mortification. How much of a fool had she made of herself, coming on to him when he had already moved on. Had the way he had held her really been goodbye?

The possibility threatened to bruise her insides and she wrapped her arms tighter around herself. She had a lot of experience with bruises these days. Even the small ones on her shin hurt like crazy. To think of the pain a bruise the size of her heart could inflict on her body... It would take weeks to heal. Maybe months.

For one ridiculous moment, Lexa toyed with the idea of crawling back into bed. Maybe if she hid under the covers, acting as if she was still asleep when he came out of the shower, she would be able to delay the inevitable just a little bit longer. Until the words actually left his mouth, she could at least pretend he wasn't going to leave her.

As if fate didn't want to even grant her that small respite, Lexa heard the bathroom door opening and naked feet padding towards her.

Despite her reluctance, her gaze lifted and her throat constricted at the sight of him.

He looked beautiful with his skin glistening, his hair wet. A towel was slung low around his waist and even with so many emotions tearing through her body, Lexa couldn't help her instinctive desire to run her fingers all over that exposed skin. She wanted to touch him. To hold him. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Ah. Shit." Jack ran a hand through his hair.

Ah. Shit, indeed.

She didn't even have to ask if it was true. She had the proof right in front of her. Color on white.

"You kissed her." Her voice barely wavered, although her lips felt numb.

"No, Lexa."

God, was he really going to _lie_ to her about this? She thought she might be sick. She turned the computer screen around.

"You kissed her," she repeated, but he just shook his head.

"She kissed me, Lexa." His eyes were pleading. "I-I ended the kiss as quickly as possible, but some of these reporters must have had their camera trained on us the whole time. Please. It was an accident. Lexa—" He tried again, breaking off when Lexa turned her head away. What an awful feeling to be so numb.

"I'm not angry," she said, staring at nothing in particular. She wasn't. Only defeated. Some part of her had been waiting for this since the day he had called her his girlfriend. She had known the time would come. She just hadn't known it would be so soon. God, how could she have been so stupid as to think for one minute that he could actually love her? _Her._ "It was really just a matter of time, I guess." Her chin quivered and she bit down hard on her lower lip.

"What are you talking about, Lexa?" He was next to her in an instant, smelling of damp and... Jack, the scent so familiar Lexa's hands fisted in her lap.

"Just look at you...and her," she said. "You look good together. Perfect, actually." A sliver of desperation stole through her numbness as she looked back at the photo and her breath hitched. "Even if it was an accident. How long do you think until the next Mary-Lou comes along? How long until you realize that you have drawn the short straw with me?"

His eyes flashed with anger and she drank in the sight. _Good_. At least one of them could still feel. "I haven't drawn any straws," he bit out. "I'm with you because I want to be with you. You're stunning and—"

"Don't lie to me." She couldn't bear this. She had fooled herself for a while into thinking that she _could_ be stunning in his eyes. That the way she had developed over the last few weeks _did_ make a difference.

She had changed so much. Her body had tightened with muscles in places she didn't even know she had some. She was walking taller. She smiled more often. Hey, she had even once or twice initiated a kiss. But she wasn't a fool. At the end of the day, she was still the same person. She would always be. Her hair would never lie perfectly in place. Her clothes would always look a little bit haphazardly thrown together. She would never have the elegant, long-limbed body shape that turned men into drooling idiots and she would always – _always_ – be a little bit awkward inside. She was tired of fooling herself. "I'll never be as beautiful as her."

"I didn't say beautiful. I said stunning. Remarkable, if you like the word better. Not everyone wants a Barbie doll as their girlfriend, Lexa. The only thing they can do is stand still and look pretty. And the ones who _do_ have half a brain, have figured out that they can use their looks to get what they want a long time ago. By the time they hit twenty they're so jaded from all the attention they think they can use everyone and everything in their path for their own gain. That's not attractive. Not to a lot of men. Certainly not to me. I want a real woman. A partner." He ran a hand over his face. "I didn't mean to tell you this, thinking that we could work this out slowly. You've overcome so much. You're the strongest person I've ever known. Your personality shines and you seem to be the only one who doesn't see it. Do you even know how much it hurts me to watch you sometimes? You're smart, and pretty, and kind, but for some reason you have absolutely no self-esteem."

Lexa hauled in a breath. He had struck her where it hurt the most. "Do you think I don't know that?" she asked. "I'm working on it."

"How?"

"I'm pole dancing."

He huffed a humorless laugh. "Exactly. You're pole dancing. Behind closed doors. You're pushing the boundaries just enough that you never have to venture too far out of your comfort zone."

"What do you want me to do? Dance in a stripclub?"

"Don't be ridiculous. But you don't even want to dance for me."

"Is that what this is all about? You are saying this wouldn't have happened if I had danced for you?" She was crying now. Silent tears.

He watched her, his own eyes filling with pain. "Don't be silly, Lexa. One has nothing to do with the other. But don't you see? This..." he encompassed them, as if he could capture their argument with his hands. "This has nothing to do with beauty. Beauty is fleeting. Do you really think my seventy-year-old parents are still together because they knock each other's socks off with their good looks? Get real. It's about life and laughter. It's about shared experiences. Good and bad. And awkward – who cares? It's about the one person you couldn't live without, even if you were blind and you couldn't see their beauty at all. You are that person for me, Lexa. But I can't do this if you'd rather throw away what we have than fight for us. I made a mistake. I know that and I'm truly sorry. Please, be angry with me. Shout at me. Rage. Just don't look at me as if this was inevitable. You're so afraid, so insecure in your own lovability, you don't even consider someone could love you more than the woman next to you. That _I_ could love you more. For who you are, rather than how you look."

" _Do_ you love me?" Her voice wavered.

"I—" Jack took a deep breath, rubbing his hand across his neck. "I want to so bad, Lexa. Believe me, I do. But how could I love you, when you don't even love yourself?"

All the air left Lexa's lungs in a rush. It felt like someone had stepped on her chest.

"I think you better leave now, Jack." Molly was standing in the doorway, arms crossed in front of her body.

Lexa saw Jack's mouth opening as if to refuse, but then he closed it, pressing his lips together. "You're right. There's nothing more to say."

***

The door closed behind him and Jack barely refrained from kicking the wall. Dammit. He wanted so badly to go back in there. Tell her he loved her so goddamn much that it physically hurt. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't feed that insecurity of hers. How were they ever going to have a relationship if she didn't trust him to choose her over any other woman out there? Always.

It pissed him off, seeing Lexa so defeated. To think that he was the reason for it made him feel physically ill.

She was such a strong person. Except when she wasn't. Dammit. This time he _did_ kick the wall, burying his face in his hands. What was he supposed to do now?

***

"He's right, you know."

Lexa lifted her head to look at her roommate, who still stood in the doorway hands crossed in front of her chest.

"I thought you were finally overcoming your insecurities, but really you are just compromising. Your needs against your parents'. Jack's needs against yours. Well guess what. You've just compromised your relationship."

Lexa willed her insides to stop shaking as the truth of it crashed through her numbness. She had known this break-up was coming. Secretly, she had prepared for it. Then why did it affect her so much? Why did she feel as if she couldn't even draw a proper breath?

"He doesn't want me." It was difficult to speak when everything inside her was curling into a ball of hurt. She had thought her heart would be bruised. She had been so wrong. Her whole body hurt.

Her head pounded; her eyes stung. Her jaw ached from clenching so hard for so long. Her chest felt too tight. Her insides knotted. Her shoulders bowed under invisible weights. Her fingernails were digging into the soft flesh of her palms. Her thighs strained with the need to kick something. Anything. She settled on Molly.

"He'd rather be with someone like you."

"Really? Is that why he spent the last few weeks dating you? Is that why he was looking after you when you were in the hospital and afterwards?"

"He felt responsible."

"What for? For saving you? Fuck, Lexa. You really don't have a clue. The guy has loved you for the last four years. And all you do is throw his love back in his face."

"That's not true." It couldn't be. "He never made a move on me."

"Yeah? Would you have believed him if he did, when half the skin on your face was hanging off? Shit, you don't even believe him now."

Lexa stared at her friend. She had never had an issue with Molly. Not once in all these years. And here they were, facing off.

"You're so worried about yourself and your own problems, you don't even see anybody else's. He has put himself out there for you. And you stomp on his feelings."

"He _said_ he doesn't love me."

"You mean you actually expected him to bare himself completely, so you could finish him off?"

"He kissed her."

" _She_ kissed _him_. And if you had bothered reading the article you would know that he was furious with her for doing so. It's all there, in the last paragraph. I thought I taught you to read the full story before jumping to conclusions years ago."

"He still let her kiss him." But she was merely defiant now, clinging to the last shreds of her insecurity. Because, really, who would she be if she lost that part? What if she _did_ start to believe in herself and then she was wrong? The pain would be so much worse.

"It was an accident Lexa. Are you holding Tracy guilty for killing her sister?"

"Of course not."

Molly glared at her. "I rest my case."

Lexa's shoulders slumped. She should have never made friends with a law student. It was just impossible to win an argument with them. "What am I going to do now?" she asked finally. "He's furious."

"I'm not surprised. You screwed this one up. I can tell you that much. Whatever you do, you better make it big."

Lexa chewed her lip, her hands still shaking. "Would national TV be big enough, you think?" The thought alone sent shivers of dread down her spine, but Molly was right. She had to do something to win Jack back. He was the best thing that ever happened in her life.

"I was thinking more along the lines of a groveling phone call," Molly said, watching her warily. "What did you have in mind?"

Lexa shrugged. "He wanted me to dance for him. I'll dance for him."

"On national TV?"

"At least he can't accuse me of being insecure then."

"I guess not." Molly huffed a laugh, finally relaxing her stance. "Girlfriend, you're seriously nuts."

# **Chapter 19**

"What do you mean I can't participate?" Lexa had been on the phone with the media team from TGADO for the better part of forty-five minutes and was slowly getting as aggravated as the agent on the other end of the line.

"As I already explained," the woman said in those carefully modulated tones that were designed to make customers feel like guaranteed fools even though the representative was being perfectly polite. "The only individuals allowed to compete in the initial rounds of the dance off are people with a social media following of at least one thousand fans. I'm sure you can understand that we have a standard to uphold and cannot make exceptions for anyone."

_Not even if they are working on a project with your boss?_ The question hovered on the tip of Lexa's tongue, but she knew she couldn't use her working relationship with Mary-Lou as a ticket to participate in the show. Mary-Lou would know within minutes that someone was dropping her name. Jack would probably find out shortly thereafter.

He would try to talk her out of it. If not for her own sake then at least for the sake of the company. After the trouble he had gone through to make their current client liaison happy, Lexa couldn't imagine him sitting by idly while she threatened the reputation of Corporate Calls with a public pole dance appearance.

No, if she was really going to do this – if she wanted to have any hope of turning this crazy idea of hers into something good instead of a complete disaster, she could in no way be recognized as a Corporate Calls employee when she climbed that stage on Saturday night.

"So what do I have to do?" she asked the call center agent, who rattled off the information with as much emotion as a robot.

"Register on our website to set up your TGADO profile. You can use a pseudonym if you wish. Engage with our fans and your own friends to gather a following. Once you hit one thousand followers, you'll receive a secret code that will get you a place in the first round of the dance off. The cut-off time for applications is Wednesday."

Damn, it was Sunday already. How was she supposed to get one thousand fans in the next three days? God, she had never anticipated for groveling to be so difficult.

"Even if I register right now, people won't follow me that quickly."

Lexa heard the unmistakable crackle of an exasperated breath being blown over the microphone. "I'm afraid that's not my problem."

Of course not.

Lexa ground her teeth and made a face at the phone. _Thanks for nothing._

"Couldn't you ask the pole studio to help you out?" Molly asked when she hung up.

Lexa shook her head. "A dance studio can't actively endorse a candidate. I've already asked. They could maybe send an email to their members, but they can get in all sorts of trouble if the people from TGADO find out. No, it has to be a private person." She looked at Molly, chewing her lip. "I know someone. I just don't know if she'd be willing to help."

She grabbed her phone a second time and scrolled through her contacts. The call was picked up on the third ring.

"Lexa?"

"Tracy. I need your help."

***

Lexa felt like one of Pavlov's dogs. The minute she entered the studio, her body started humming, ready to climb, twirl and roll.

It was a good thing too, because she needed to practice her routine until she was too tired to stand.

She still couldn't believe she had really made it into the show. Tracy hadn't lied when she told Lexa during her stalker-episode that she packed a social media punch. And Tracy wasn't the only one who had stepped up to help Lexa with her preparations.

Lexa watched as the other girls crowded into the room.

There was Gigi who had talked a girl in the strip club, who had the same shoe size as Lexa, into lending Lexa her pair of proper stripper heels. There was Ruby who had promised to teach them an easy routine with a lot of floor work that Lexa could replicate on Saturday. Knowing Ruby, Lexa would still end up using the pole. There were Lizzie, Kaycee and Emily who had pooled their funds to buy Lexa a beautiful pair of sparkly hot pants and the tiniest sports bra under the sun.

There was Angie, who took motivational speeches to a whole new level. And of course, there was Molly at home, who would accompany her to the event.

Their support almost made Lexa cry. It also meant there was no backing out now. She couldn't disappoint them.

Not that the thought even crossed Lexa's mind. The last few days without Jack had been as close to hell as she ever wanted to get. The situation was worse, because she still saw him every day at work, although he did his almighty best to avoid her. It seemed he had truly written her off. The possibility made her panic every time she thought about it. Made her question her decision. What if it was already too late?

What if Jack would be appalled by her attempt to win him back? What if she made everything worse, dancing in front of a million-viewer audience? It could be hardly any man's desire to have their girlfriend show other people how well she could rock a pole.

Then she would remind herself that insecure thoughts like these had gotten her into this mess in the first place, and she would tell herself to man up.

He had wanted her to push the boundaries. She was about to. Whether he liked it or not. He would get his show.

# **Chapter 20**

Jack shot his fancy outfit a look of distaste. He wasn't interested in the show. He wasn't interested in the project. Hell, he wasn't interested in anything since the day Lexa had left. Or had he left her? He hadn't intended to, but the words he had said... Maybe if he would have groveled, but he couldn't. He couldn't watch her looking at him as if he could leave her any minute. He had thought her insecurities didn't matter. He had been wrong.

God, this was supposed to be their night. The night when they finally made their relationship official. Not that they had been hiding. But Jack had looked forward to this. And now?

He would have to go there alone, staring at the empty chair next to him all night, because he doubted she would come. Knowing her, she would probably assume he didn't want to see her again. The way she had assumed him keeping his distance at work meant he didn't want to talk to her, when all he could think of was begging her to come back to him.

Jack pulled his suit off the hanger and ran a hand over his face. He wished he could stay home and wallow in his misery. Unfortunately, Michael was adamant that he should attend the show. Jack had no idea what Michael had said to Mary-Lou after the press conference, or how he had saved their relationship with Teddy, but according to his brother the cougar wanted to apologize. For reading the signs wrong. Ha. What signs?

At least Michael had kept Mary-Lou far away from him over the last few days as Jack had buried himself in the last preparations for the go-live. Or at least he had tried to. But then he would see Lexa across the room or in the hallway and longing would grip him so hard he could barely breathe. His fingers would curl with the urge to touch. To lift her damned gaze to his. She refused to look at him, and that was one of the things he found hardest to deal with. If she didn't look at him, he couldn't read her. And he needed to read her. He needed to know if she was suffering as much as he did. Because, he sure as hell felt like she had broken him in half.

***

Lexa took in the set up and felt sick to her stomach.

Next to her, Molly was excited but less impressed. Maybe because her roommate had seen TV sets and stages from a young age. Not Lexa. For her, it was the first time in the limelight and she could feel stage fright creeping slowly into her bones.

The hall they were in was bathed in light. Tables and chairs were set up around a massive dance floor. Above the parquet, a chandelier glittered with a thousand glass drops. To the side, a huge screen was readied to announce the live show voting. Towards the back the live band was setting up their equipment as cameras were wheeled into position.

The atmosphere was breathtaking. Breathtakingly terrifying.

Lexa inhaled deeply and closed her fingers around the number the guy behind the welcome desk held out to her.

"Dressing rooms are down the hall." He pointed towards a long stretch of hallway with doors branching off to either side. "Guests can't access the backstage area." He looked pointedly at Molly.

Molly turned to Lexa. "Where is the invite?"

Lexa tore her gaze from the activity around them to pull the ticket out of her bag before handing the strip of paper to a man in a tux who guided Molly towards the front of the seating arrangement.

Lexa followed the pair with her eyes, her gaze shifting to Jack's form when she finally found him in the crowd. Emotion threatened to strangle her throat. He looked so handsome in his trademark white shirt and the dark suit that fit him to a T. The only thing dimming his usually disarming personality was the lack of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

It was her fault.

Lexa felt guilt curling through her blood that quickly morphed into anger when she saw Mary-Lou sliding into the seat next to him. Lexa's seat.

Lexa ground her teeth.

The Housewife turned Homewrecker obviously didn't waste time closing in. Lexa would show the socialite once and for all not to mess with a woman in love.

Lexa turned around and strode down the hall. She had a performance to prepare. And it had better be the best of her life.

***

"You didn't," Michael hissed towards his brother when he saw Lexa's friend Molly stride into the room.

He had been looking forward to the night and now it had gone to shit in a bucket. He exhaled a sigh, even while his pulse drummed with anticipation. He couldn't quite figure out why.

Their previous meetings had been anything but smooth sailing and he had no doubt that they would start butting heads again if they came so much as within ten feet from each other. Something he was unlikely to avoid because, crap, she was striding right towards their table.

Michael saw Jack look up in confusion and groaned. It had been Lexa's doing, then. She must have decided that she wasn't up to seeing Jack and must have passed on her invitation to Molly.

Michael still hadn't managed to get his brother to spill the beans about their break up. But he could tell his brother was suffering. Especially now that it was so abundantly clear that Lexa didn't want anything to do with him any longer.

How inconsiderate of Lexa to send her roommate instead. Michael had thought she was better than this. Obviously, he had been wrong.

And now he would have to suffer through a whole night with Ms. Frost. A task as hard on his control as it would be easy on his eyes.

Contrary to the red halter-neck dress, the one Molly wore when she had knocked the socks off every guy in that bar – except for Jack, the love-blinded idiot – she had opted for opal blue this time. The color of her sparkly dress set off her golden hair. Her eyes were rimmed with black, and they appeared huge in her face, giving her an aura of vulnerability.

Vulnerable? Ha. The woman probably didn't even know what the word meant. Or, still more likely, she did and was using it entirely to her advantage. Because the shy smile as she said her thanks to the usher guiding her to their table took her straight from beautiful to breathtaking.

Feeling his fists curl at his sides, Michael dragged his gaze away to glance across the room, then chided himself for being so stupid, because she sure as hell had stolen the breath of every single guy in attendance. The knowledge riled him up even further. Just like it had riled him when she had hit on Jack during the brunch. He didn't like the girl. She had no honor. If no one else, at least Lexa's boyfriend should be off limits for Molly.

Telling himself that the tightening in his gut was contempt at her behavior and had nothing to do with the urge to bundle her into his suit jacket and escort her out of the room so the fucking idiots would stop staring at her, Michael controlled the hunger in his eyes, his teeth grinding with the effort.

***

"This seat is taken." Molly knew she could be forever damaging Corporate Calls's reputation by challenging Mary-Lou. But when it came down to the company or her best friend, she had no shame throwing the Daniels brothers to the gold digger.

Lexa may have been easy to impress, but Molly knew types like Mary-Lou. Her own mother was one of them. Not that Joana Rogers would ever dream of cheating on her husband. Why should she, when he was doing everything she wanted? However, just like Mary-Lou, Joana Rogers was a master manipulator.

Molly had learned to handle her mother a long time ago. It had been the perfect training for a situation like this.

She could see Mary-Lou's dainty teeth grit as the older woman looked up from her sitting position. "And you are?"

Molly bared her own teeth in a parody of a polite smile. "Molly. Molly Rogers."

She saw the woman flinch visibly at the mention of her last name, but felt no satisfaction. She hated using her parents' status to get her way. If it wasn't for Lexa, she'd refuse to do it.

To her credit, Mary-Lou caught herself admiringly quickly. "I said what I came here to say, anyway." She vacated the chair just slowly enough to imply she wasn't intimidated. Yeah, right. Everyone was intimidated by Molly's last name. A late night show host would be no exception.

Molly waited until Mary-Lou had sashayed out of sight before allowing her eyes to take in the awestruck glances of the remaining participants at the table. A young female starlet and two anorexic models looked impressed by the way she had sent an idol of the public packing. Three male politicians seemed to have zoned out as soon as her chest moved into their line of sight. But the one person who she had _wanted_ to impress certainly didn't seem to care that she came from one of the most influential families, or that her blue dress was providing teasing glimpses of skin with every shift of her body. His gaze was glued to her fingers that she had allowed to gently settle on Jack's arm.

Before she could think better of it, Molly snatched her hand away, a feeling of annoyance racing through her body. Why could he make her self-conscious when she hadn't been self-conscious in years? She wasn't used to feeling so off balance.

She, who had learned to handle any situation by the time she was six years old. It was a necessity in their world of high-powered people. Control or be controlled was the truth of their lives. Even if Molly had always found the games high-society played rather pathetic, she was stuck in their world.

Except when she was with Lexa. With her, Molly didn't have to pretend. With her it wasn't about money, or status, or scandal. That was worth more to Molly than Lexa would ever understand.

It was the same reason why Molly liked to pick up guys in a bar. The anonymity a one-night stand provided was priceless. At least she didn't have to worry how her latest conquest would use her every kiss, her every touch against her to suit their agenda.

Only lately, she had started to long for something more. A man she could build a life with. A down-to-earth partner. Preferably someone from a middle-class family. Her mother would probably get an aneurysm if Molly ever told her that she wanted someone who loved her for herself. Not for her family name, or her connections. Someone who allowed her to drive her own life. That last requirement alone ruled out a lot of people.

She couldn't see herself with any member of her parents' elaborate circle. No politician. No sports star. No CEO. And definitely, definitely not a sharp-eyed businessman who could get under her skin with a single searing look.

# **Chapter 21**

What had she been thinking?

The thought raced through Lexa's mind over and over again as she stood in the middle of the dark dance floor, waiting for the music to start. Just out of the corner of her eyes she could make out the shadowy outline of Jack's table. On her other side, Mary-Lou strode into a cone of light.

Lexa's hand tightened reflexively on the cold brass of her pole. At least the blonde sex bomb wasn't sitting next to Jack any longer. Lexa didn't think she would have been able to bear knowing that Mary-Lou's perfection was so close to him, while Lexa was making a fool of herself trying to prove that she was indeed worthy of his love.

_How could I love you, if you don't even love yourself?_

The words Jack had spoken the weekend before had cut her to her core, stripped away layer upon layer of false self-confidence, until she felt bared to her soul.

Her initial reaction had been to deny everything. But she found she couldn't. He was right. She had always thought she lacked confidence, allure, beauty, when all she had lacked was faith. Faith in her own lovability.

It had started slowly, sneaking in over the years, that feeling of being just a little bit too awkward to find a man who liked her, of being just not quite good enough.

She had never understood the subtle dance of courtship. Flirting had always been a foreign concept for her. As was the art of seduction.

She had blamed it on her braces. Her scars. Any imperfection she could find. Because it was easier to be rejected for them than to be rejected for herself.

But Jack had seen through it all. Not only that. He had told her straight to her face. As hard as the truth was to accept, deep down she was grateful for his honesty. She had lied to herself long enough. Had hidden in the deepest depth of her comfort zone. She had been paralyzed by her insecurities. Unable to disentangle herself.

It had taken a breakup to finally shake her awake.

Mary-Lou's voice cut through her thoughts as she announced the next act – _Bared_. Lexa's pseudonym. It fit perfectly. She felt bared to her soul for the first time in years, despite the hard-shell mask covering her eyes, hiding her identity to all who didn't know her well.

She touched the smooth edge of the hot-pink disguise, wishing she could veil the rest of her body, the way she had veiled the top half of her face. The scraps of textile the girls had bought her barely covered the essentials.

As much as she was ready to show off her newfound determination, she really didn't want to think what her parents would say when they saw the clip of her dancing on national TV in barely more than her underwear. She definitely didn't want to think what Jack would say when he saw his girlfriend undulating against a pole in front of the world.

_He wanted this_ , Lexa reminded herself. Well, maybe not quite this. But he had wanted her to dance.

Dammit. It was certainly not what she had expected when she had signed up for her pole class, just a few weeks ago.

At least Ruby had listened and chosen a rather modest routine. A few body rolls, some climbing on the pole, but no overt flashing of Lexa's barely clad lady parts. She was grateful for it.

She positioned herself against the pole. Back arched. Hands above her head.

Hoping her silhouette would look enticing to the audience. It was all they could see at the moment. With the lights low, she was nothing but a shape in the darkness.

_Shoulders back and smile_ , she told herself. She could do this. It was her only chance.

She bit her lip. What if she made things worse with her appearance? Then she remembered that things couldn't be worse, if it meant that she and Jack would be apart. No, she had to do this. She had to trust that Jack would know what she was trying to achieve.

Please let Jack know that I'm doing this for him, she prayed.

Looking at the Corporate Calls table, she was relieved to see that Mary-Lou hadn't returned to Jack's side after the announcement, the chair next to him now occupied by Molly, who seemed to be facing as far away from Michael as possible while still watching the stage.

Lexa heard the _tap, tap, tap_ of wooden sticks hitting each other as the drummer counted in the band and flexed her fingers. This was it. Her chance.

The music started and the glaring lights settled on her.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this.

_Allure_ , she thought and let the first notes of the song flow through her.

She stepped on her inside leg, let the left one swing around the pole and lifted herself into a spin and climb. Taking her left arm off, she arched her back, letting her hair tumble down.

_Beauty._ It was what she had never thought she'd have. But Jack had taught her that beauty truly was in the eye of the beholder. And despite all her flaws and imperfections, she was somehow special to him.

She gripped the pole harder, knowing full well that a difficult combo was coming up that she had botched every time the last few days that she had spent almost permanently in the studio. Was she going to fail again?

_Confidence._ Lexa added some extra wattage to her smile, then took a deep breath and inverted. She was almost up and over, when she felt her shoes drag her towards the ground. With an oomph that sounded loud to her own ears, she pushed with all her might and...she had done it. The grin that split her face was genuine this time. The rest of the performance was easy. Some floor work and another spin and climb.

As the song came to its peak, Lexa took her legs off the pole and slowly sank into a fake split, hoping Ruby was right, and the audience didn't notice her back-leg wasn't actually fully stretched. Rolling on the floor she undulated her body, then jumped back on her feet, gripping the pole. She straightened, flicking her hair over her shoulder, then hooked her leg around the pole to spin. As the last notes flowed through the room she stepped off, head-rolled and stuck her butt out.

There was a moment of silence, and then the first hesitant clapping of the audience, as the lights dimmed to a natural glow.

Locking her eyes on the man she loved, Lexa tilted her head until the scar on her cheek was exposed and saw Jack's jaw dropping open, the grip around his glass of water so tight she could see the white of his knuckles.

_Oh my god._ She could read the words on his lips all the way from over here, as he suddenly set the glass down. He was halfway across the stage, before security noticed that a member of the audience had left their seat.

Lexa heard the cameras moving as they tracked Jack's every movement, but she couldn't look away. She was trapped by his eyes.

She didn't realize she had started moving too, but she must have, because they suddenly collided, the lights beating down on their heads, as Jack cupped her face, his fingers trembling, as he lifted her mask.

"Lexa." It was barely more than a breath before his lips took hers in a bruising kiss. "Lexa," he said again, leaning his forehead against hers. "Oh god, I missed you so much."

She felt tears threatening to choke her as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I missed you, too. Every second of every day. You were right and I..."

He gently laid a finger against her lips. "Shh. Don't speak. I can't believe you did this." He brushed a tear off her lashes when it threatened to leak from her eyes.

"I'd do anything for you Jack. I'd even start believing I'm worthy of your love, if that's what it takes."

"I love you, Lexa. I always have."

"I know," Lexa sniffed, laying a hand against his cheek now, feeling blessed when he tilted his head into her palm. "It just took me a while to figure it out."

# **Chapter 22**

It was Sunday, the day after the dance off and Lexa had locked herself into the bathroom to take a moment for herself.

Life had been a little bit crazy since the show. After Jack had removed her mask, there had been no hiding her identity. Somehow a number of people from the press had managed to get her cell number and address – a payback from Mary-Lou no doubt, whose apology to Jack hadn't been half as sincere as she had wanted everyone to believe. In any case, Lexa was pretty certain Mary-Lou hadn't realized what she was facilitating. She had probably thought the press would tear apart Lexa's life. In all reality they were fascinated with her choked confession that she had danced only to prove her love. She hadn't meant to make a public statement, but the crowd had gone from reluctant clapping to outright frenzy after the kiss and Mary-Lou's co-host had scented a story to capture the nation's interest. He had stuck a microphone under Lexa's nose and she had been way too flustered and _happy_ to keep her delight from bubbling over.

Jack had stood beside her, his hand on her waist, unwilling to let her go as they faced the cheering audience. The thought still made her blush a little. She had never thought she was special, but her fans clearly did, voting her into the next round of TGADO despite her mediocre dance performance. She had thanked them, but bowed out, explaining that she would save all future performances for her _boyfriend_. The comment had set off another round of approving shouts and whistles.

She had received invitations to talk about pole dancing as a fitness trend. Someone had even found out that she had had an altercation all these years ago and wanted to do a documentary about her life. They wanted to show how she had overcome her fears and insecurities after the attack.

Lexa couldn't wait for the hype to die down. Not that she wouldn't enjoy the heck out of her fifteen minutes of fame while it lasted. Fame came with a number of benefits – including a healthy paycheck for each interview.

She heard the doorbell ring and took a deep breath. Jack was out in the living room and would get the door, but Lexa should really stop hiding in the bathroom.

She slipped out of the tiny enclosure and froze when she heard Jack greet the visitors.

"Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Harrington."

Her parents were here? She really should have expected it after the live show yesterday. Hadn't she wondered all day why she couldn't reach them? Now she knew. They had been on an interstate flight to deal with their prostitute daughter in person.

She wiped any expression off her face, as carefully as she wiped any traces of sweat off her hands before she tried to climb a pole, and walked out into the living room.

"Mother. Dad. You didn't have to come here." A phone call would have been more than sufficient.

Over the last few days Lexa had realized that their coddling was her fault. She had allowed them to think she couldn't live on her own. She had indulged them because she didn't want to hurt them, but all she had proved was she couldn't stand up for herself.

She had used them as a safety net, then complained when she got tangled. It was time to cut the ropes and soar.

Lexa tried to judge how badly they had taken her appearance on TGADO, but for once their expressions didn't give much away.

"We're about to eat." She pointed to the set table in the middle of their small dining room. "I'll get you plates..."

"We've seen the show," her mother broke in, before Lexa could escape into the kitchen. She felt Jack coming up to her. Standing quietly behind her. A rock if she needed one. He would defend her, even against her own parents. She was endlessly grateful for him.

Her mother worried the strap of her handbag between her fingers. "We're proud of you."

It was the last thing she had expected.

"Not the outfit," her father added gruffly. "I'd rather you keep that to the bedroom. Nobody needs to see my daughter in that outfit. He shot a quick glance at Jack, clearly debating whether that should include him, then gave a little shake of his head. "You were amazing."

Lexa felt moisture gathering in her eyes and she extracted herself from Jack to press a kiss to her dad's scruffy cheek, then turned to her mother who was surreptitiously wiping her eyes.

"I guess our little daughter has grown up while we weren't watching. It's hard to wrap our heads around, but we're dealing with it. We know how much effort you put into all this. Your job, your studies, the fact that you managed to overcome what has been done to you..." Her mother broke off, blinking rapidly. "I still wish you would have a hobby with a, uh, cleaner reputation, but we are glad to know that, whatever you do, it's making you happy. And we also understand now that you're not a stripper." She whispered the last word, before clearing her throat. "We love you."

Lexa hugged her mother. "I love you, too."

***

On Monday, Lexa entered Michael's office with dread.

He had asked her to bring in the newest report on the performance of their website. And although the request had seemed innocuous enough, Lexa was nervous as hell.

He had been there for the show. Could have intervened at any point if he had feared for the company's reputation. Then again, Lexa doubted anybody could have stopped Jack when he tore off her mask.

If the media had found out about the attack four years ago, they certainly had found out where she worked now. And if they hadn't, Mary-Lou would've helped them with that, Lexa was sure.

In any case, it was highly likely Michael was about to terminate her contract early, despite the reassurances Jack had tried to give her. The report was probably Michael's way to get her into his office without embarrassing her in front of her colleagues.

She'd be gutted, of course, if he really ended her employment right now. But she'd find another job. Jack was worth it. She just hoped that she hadn't done too much damage to Corporate Calls.

When she open the door at Michael's beckoning call and saw a strange man sitting opposite Michael, Lexa barely held back a groan. This was worse than she had expected. Would she be liable to pay damages now?

"If this is all, Mr. Martin." Michael nodded at the balding man at that moment, waving Lexa into the room. "I expect the article about Corporate Calls's first anniversary will appear in your paper at some point this week?"

An article? The man was a reporter? Relief washed over Lexa.

"Tomorrow." Mr. Martin shifted, his belly jiggling. "Our readers have been anxiously awaiting the special."

"As have we." Michael smiled congenially.

Mr. Martin pushed up from the chair, huffing and puffing and Lexa saw he had perspired enough to have sweat stains almost to the waistband of his trousers.

He picked up a sheet of paper scribbled full with notes and crammed it into a worn out leather bag and turned to walk towards the door, but did a double-take when he saw Lexa standing just inside the doorway.

"Just one more thing," he said, turning back to Michael in a bad imitation of a certain on-screen detective. "I'm sure our readers would love to know: What are your thoughts on one of your employees going pole dancing?"

Lexa's stomach sank, even as one of Michael's eyebrows climbed on his forehead. He shot the reporter a steely glance. "I think what my employees do in their private time is none of my concern, as long as they don't break any laws." He leaned towards Mr. Martin until the other man looked like a deer trapped in the headlights. "Or does your boss, uh, wife know you're spending your Friday nights at Jewel's?"

Red crept up the reporter's collar and he huffed out an annoyed breath.

Lexa saw Michael winking at her and felt a stone lift off her chest. He didn't hold her appearance on TGADO against her. It was more than she could have ever hoped for.

And then she almost groaned when she realized that Michael had just told her that he was spending his own Friday night's at Jewel's. Oh my god, she really didn't need to know that her boss and boyfriend's brother frequented a strip club every week.

***

"Lexaaaa." Angie's ear splitting scream greeted her when she entered the Pole studio on Thursday evening. "Girl, I can't believe you did that."

"You have guts," Gigi confirmed.

The other girls clustered around her until Lexa couldn't breathe.

"Back up. Back up, will you?" she laughed. "It wasn't that big a deal."

"Not that big a deal, she says," Angie muttered. "You were hot girl. Piping."

Lexa looked around. Everyone was looking back at her with a sparkle in their eyes.

"Girls, leave the poor soul alone," Ruby said from the doorway and everyone finally took a tiny step back. "...so I can say congrats as well." Ruby winked and wrapped her in a motherly hug. "I'm proud of you Lexa. We are all proud of you."

Lexa followed her gesture towards the door where all the teachers stood and felt her heart slam against her ribcage.

She had always been so worried about putting herself out there. About rocking the boat. Then she had tipped the whole thing over completely and look what it had gotten her. Admiration and respect.

She felt a huge warmth spread in her chest.

Then one figure pushed through the throng and Lexa couldn't contain her gasp of surprise.

"Crystal," Emily breathed, awestruck when the mysterious owner of the pole studio sauntered into the room.

"In the flesh," Crystal teased, nodding at Lexa in acknowledgement. "You did some outstanding advertising for us," she said. "The local girls are almost knocking down the door to take pole lessons here at the studio."

Lexa ducked her head, still overwhelmed by so much praise. But Crystal didn't allow her to get too self-conscious. Instead she held out a big hamper to Lexa. "We wanted to show our appreciation. We didn't make it compulsory, but everyone wanted to chip in and here you are."

"Oh my god," Lexa breathed. In the hamper were pole shoes – the pretty ones Lexa had told Gigi about the other day – a naughty piece of lingerie, and shaving cream. Lexa laughed when she saw what was hidden at the very bottom. A small crystal-studded leash with the words 'dompteuse'. "Thank you so, so much," she said to no-one in particular. "You're unbelievable."

"And you are fabulous," Emily countered.

"I am," Lexa said smiling, thinking of the beautiful man who had finally made her believe in herself. "And I thank Jack every day for dragging me out of my comfort zone."

"Oh, yes. I can imagine how you're thanking him." Angie fanned herself.

"It can't be a hardship," Gigi giggled. "He's piping, too."

Was he ever, Lexa thought, impatient to be back in his arms.

# **Chapter 23**

Lexa rubbed her hands together nervously. It had been almost a week since the show. The thought still made her smile. The way Jack had kissed her and driven her home to make slow, sweet love to her...

Lexa smoothed her costume. She just hoped this evening would go the way she had planned it. It was her self-imposed self-confidence graduation test.

She thought her measure of personal growth had been the show last week, but compared to _this_ the show had been easy.

She heard the front door opening and knew Jack had come home from the errand she had sent him to run. He had looked at her funny when she pretended she had a sudden craving for ice cream and for one charged moment she had worried he might think she was pregnant. But he hadn't asked any questions, but had left his apartment to get what she wanted.

Lexa was glad it had taken him longer than she had anticipated. She had needed some time to set up.

"Lexa?"

"In the bedroom." She was relieved the three words came out strong, when inside she was feeling like a heap of Jell-O.

She saw his shadow a second before Jack entered the doorway...and dropped the ice cream on the floor.

"Happy birthday." Lexa smiled at him, bending over to retrieve the container from the floor, flashing him a little with her new lingerie ensemble the girls had gifted her. She heard his sharp inhale and knew she had done the right thing. Even while she felt completely out of her depth, there was something to be said about shared experiences. _Good. Bad. Awkward – who cared?_

With that thought in mind, Lexa set the ice-cream on the nightstand before pushing Jack into the chair she had strategically positioned at the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice lower than normal as his eyes roamed her half-dressed form.

"Giving you exactly what you wanted."

"I already have that," he said, and his eyes held such tenderness Lexa felt her throat constrict.

"Then this is an unexpected extra," she finally managed, hitting the play button on the stereo. A smoky voice drifted from the speakers.

Jack choked a laugh. "Really? You're going to strip for me?"

"You bet," she said and cocked a hip. "But I will leave the hat on."

***

Lexa looked over at Jack's sleeping form, a small smile curling her lips at the sight. He had dozed off after the dance, but not before giving them both the most amazing orgasm yet. He was good at that. Satisfying her. Then again, she had yet to find something that Jack Daniels wasn't good at.

God, she loved him.

She used her fingers to run along his hairline, watching him in the fading twilight. He looked almost too pretty asleep, without the heat in his mesmerizing eyes. The scruff on his jaw rasped against her palm

She startled when he caught her hand, kissing her fingers, before he laid them over his heart. "Hello, beautiful."

She ducked her head, still self-conscious but finally learning to believe what he said.

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I was thinking." He propped himself up on one elbow to fully look at her. As if it was important to him, he used his hand to push her hair behind her ear, exposing the scar on her cheek.

His eyes held so much intensity when he looked at her that Lexa had to suck in a breath.

"About?" she asked, because he was clearly waiting.

"You and me." He rolled over to the nightstand and when he turned back towards her, he held a key in his hand. "Lexa, would you move in with me? I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to see you every night over the dinner table. I want you to get angry at me for leaving the toilet seat up, then make up with me. I want to bring you breakfast in bed on Sundays. Most of all I want you with me. Always."

Lexa's breath hitched. It was the most romantic thing anybody had ever said to her.

Lexa slowly closed her fingers around the key in his hand. "Yes, Jack. I'd love that too. I love you."

And then they were kissing, both of them holding onto the key and somehow holding onto each other.

"I want to make you happy," Jack whispered against her lips.

"You do," Lexa said with all her heart. This man who she had always thought didn't feel anything for her but brotherly affection. This hero she had worshipped from afar for years. The way he understood her. The way he cared about her. There was nothing better in this world.

Except... She pulled at her shirt that she had thrown haphazardly on after their lovemaking.

"Stop." Jack held her hands. "I want to do that."

A slow smile spread on her face as she let her hands fall to her sides. He could 'do that' any time. And Jack didn't just strip her. He _stripped_ her. Pulling each item of clothing off her body with maddening slowness, he covered each strip of exposed skin in kisses. When he finally had her completely naked, he stared at her breasts. "So many times we've made love and I didn't get to properly look at them yet," he said, palming the soft flesh almost reverently. "What are you grinning about?"

She snorted. "They're just boobs," she repeated aloud what Gigi had said, laughing when Jack almost looked affronted.

"They aren't _just_ boobs," Jack disagreed. "They are your boobs. They are big and round and, fuck, look at them..."

Lexa felt herself blush the deepest shade of red. "Stop talking like that."

"You don't like it?"

The question sent another heatwave crashing over her. Because she liked it too much. But she truly wasn't brave enough to say that. Maybe in a year. Or ten.

Instead she just pulled him down on top of her.

For Jack it was obviously answer enough, because he took her mouth and rocked them slowly until they shattered in each other's arms.

***

Jack tracked Lexa with his eyes as she appeared in a cloud of steam from the bathroom. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was. She was going to move in with him. She was going to stay in New York. He would tell her that he was thinking of forever with her if he didn't think the pace at which he was going would freak her out. Good god, it was freaking him out. Three months ago he hadn't even considered a long term relationship, now he was ready to declare his undying love.

He studied Lexa's happy face and something squeezed in his chest. It had been him doing this. He had put that smile on her face. He wanted to do it over and over again.

He wondered how long he would have to wait until he could tell her _how_ serious he actually was about this relationship. Maybe another two months or so.

God, he loved her. And the fact that she loved him right back was downright amazing.

He gave in to the urge to touch her as she bent to kiss him, running his fingers over her collar bone.

She was toning up now that she was working out regularly and although he had always loved her body, this new shape she was slowly fitting into was his undoing every time he looked at her. Her arms, her legs, even her tummy were well defined but still soft enough for his every fantasy to pale in comparison.

Jack felt himself stir at the thought and a chuckle escaped him. It was going to be a while until he would be able to slow himself down. He had waited for her for so many years. He didn't want to waste another minute.

He didn't have to, now that they were building a life together.

The thought brought a smile to his face. He was ready. There was no one else for him.

He wanted to have her with him. Always.

# **Epilogue**

"Girls, don't do this to me. _Pleeease._ "

Molly chuckled at Angie's desperate wail. "I told you we should have blindfolded her."

Gigi shook her head. "Not Angie. She might get ideas."

Angie narrowed her eyes at the shy stripper. "And to think I defended you."

"You called me a slut."

"To support you."

Gigi shrugged her shoulders, giggling quietly.

Lexa heaved a sigh. "Can we just move this inside, please? We're blocking the entrance."

They were out celebrating their pole graduation and succession to the Sophomore course with a big round of coffee and cake at the Ground Bean. At least that was the idea, but while Lexa, Tracy, Gigi, Lizzie, Kaycee, Emily and Molly couldn't wait to get started, Angie was not to be moved past the front door.

As if to prove her stubbornness, Angie shook her head and folded her arms over her chest. "I will not succumb to peer pressure. You go in and I...," she dug into her handbag for her phone. "I'll dial in via conference call."

Lexa saw Edward's lips twitch at the suggestion. He had watched the whole spectacle unfold for the last five minutes, while trying and increasingly failing to suppress his grin.

"You'd rather stand out here in the cold, dialing in, than sit with us in a nice warm coffee shop?" Emily asked incredulously.

"Absolutely." Angie nodded vehemently. "You know I can't afford this." She gestured towards the cakes in the window display. "Every single calorie will go straight to my hips."

"Don't worry, they're wide enough. Another centimeter or two won't make a difference," Tracy used the momentum as Angie looked outraged over her shoulder to push her into the coffee shop, and shot a look at Lexa that said, _see how effective rude can be_?

Lexa rolled her eyes, but couldn't help her lips curling in amusement. "Towards the back, girls. Jack's reserved us the best seats in the house." She winked at Edward, who pulled her into his side to drop a brotherly kiss on her head.

"Your boyfriend's not only reserved the best seats in the house, he has also taken the liberty to order."

"Oh?" Lexa felt a frown gathering on her forehead, even as warmth curled through her belly. She would never get tired of Jack being called her boyfriend. He was truly the best thing that had ever happened to her in her entire life and she was determined to hold on to the happiness they shared with both hands.

Not that she needed to overly exert herself. She had finally realized that Jack wasn't going anywhere. As surprising as it seemed to her at times, he was happy right where he was. By her side. He managed to prove it to her in new ways every day. But to order for the whole group of them? It seemed a little bit presumptuous. Even for him.

Then again, Lexa had already falsely judged him once and she was not about to make the same mistake a second time.

Sliding into her seat, she watched as Edward disappeared in the back, then laughed out loud when he came back with a tray of... "Waffles."

Moisture gathered unexpectedly in her eyes at the realization that Jack still remembered the story she had told him weeks ago. She had felt pretty embarrassed bringing it up, that she had given up the treat to pay for pole dancing classes and here he was buying waffles _for_ her.

She quickly wiped a stray tear away before taking the tray from Edward, who looked suspicious at the sheen in her eyes.

"I gather there's a story behind this," he said, his voice low and handing her a napkin before rounding the table to stand behind Angie.

"And for you," he said, producing a perfect chocolate cupcake from behind his back. "Something light that will definitely not go to your lovely hips."

"I love you," Angie declared heartfelt, causing a slow blush to creep into Edward's cheeks. He cleared his throat and Angie's gaze snapped up to his. "Be still my heart. I meant the cupcake, but I could definitely love you too. What's your name gorgeous?" she asked, her hips completely forgotten as she picked part of the frosting off the cake. Her eyes closed in pleasure, before they suddenly narrowed suspiciously. "That doesn't taste like it wouldn't go to my hips. You're not going to try to start our relationship on a lie, are you?"

"I didn't know we were in a relationship."

"A woman is always in a relationship with her main chocolate provider."

Edward's mouth twitched. "In this case..."

"No, don't tell me," Angie interrupted. "I want to enjoy this."

The girls laughed and Edward retreated, his hands held up in mock surrender.

"So what do you think we'll learn next term?" Gigi asked excitedly.

"I looked up a pole dance dictionary online," Tracy confided. "Sophomore looks more like my cup of tea."

"You mean the great Tracy O. will actually struggle?" Lexa teased.

Tracy shrugged her shoulders. "I hope so. After all I'm there for a reason."

"And what exactly is your reason?" Gigi asked. "Lexa wanted spice. I'm there for the actual skill. Angie is trying to lose weight." She eyed the quickly disappearing cupcake suspiciously. "What do you get out of pole dancing? You never said."

"Friends," Tracy said in the sudden silence. "Real friends."
**Excerpt: Big Sweet Love**

**(Pole Dance 2)**

**Chapter 1**

_Pick up your crap. Tonight._

Angie set her cup onto the rectangular saucer, covering the depiction of the tiny brown bean being ground into a heap of coffee—the logo of the coffee shop that had quickly become her Sunday afternoon hotspot—and stared at her cell phone as another message slid onto the screen.

_I need the space._

So much for Josh's promise to love her forever. In the end, "forever" had been another five weeks and two months later someone else was moving in.

Why else would he _need space_? Josh didn't have siblings. Or buddies, for that matter. He did, however, seem to have found a replacement for his ex.

Angie waited for the pang of hurt, disappointment, at least regret, to cut through the steady hum of Ground Bean customers chatting animatedly behind her. In reality she felt nothing. Nothing besides annoyance that he was putting her into a tight spot. _Again_.

Where was she supposed to find free storage space this late on a Sunday afternoon? Surely he didn't expect her to cram two hundred pounds of clutter into her new shoebox of an apartment that _she_ had to rent because _he_ refused to move out of their conveniently subsidized university accommodation.

Or maybe he presumed she would just load up one of her good old friends?

_Ha_. Perhaps if he hadn't been so hell-bent on taking up every last second of her time while they were together, she would actually _have_ good old friends in this strange city they called the Big Apple.

Knowing Josh, he hadn't even thought about the predicament he was putting her into when he made the request for her to clear out her stuff. Selfish and lazy were Josh's middle names.

His only redeeming quality was that he was an honest jerk. Angie had known exactly what she was getting herself into when she had agreed to go steady with him at the beginning of their undergraduate studies. Cooking, cleaning, on-demand sex. Josh liked the benefits a girlfriend came with. And Angie? Well, she had put up with everything from him just because he accepted her curves.

Angie popped another one of the mini macaroons that were sitting artfully arranged on a matching rectangular plate in front of her into her mouth and chewed the raspberry-flavored treat pensively. Thinking about her less-than-ideal weight always affected her appetite in a rather counterproductive way. It was a disposition that neither her parents, nor her previous boyfriends, had ever understood. Emotional eaters lived in a perpetual catch-22 situation.

Maybe she was too hard on Josh. At least _he_ had had the good grace to keep his mouth shut when she had emptied a full carton of chocolate-chip ice cream just because her favorite author had killed off her favorite hero in her favorite serial.

If she were literarily instead of artistically gifted, she'd probably say he had given her back her faith in mankind. There _were_ guys out there who preferred women with character rather than beauty. Especially if the woman in question knew how to use a feather duster and could be talked into wearing a French Maid costume on occasion—anything to cover her less than flattering love handles.

As it was, Angie was better with a paint brush than words.

Thankfully Josh didn't require her to wax poetic. A simple acknowledgement that she would be there tonight would do.

Angie sucked a bright pink spot that the raspberry filling had left on her finger and contemplated her options.

She _could_ temporarily cram the boxes into her apartment, if she could stomach crawling over an obstacle course on her way out the door, for the next few days. _Ugh._ Not her idea of a good morning. She would need to find something more permanent soon. Her parents' place was out of the question. All of her family lived back in her native Scotland. _Thank God._

Perhaps she could ask one of the pole dance girls to help her out.

The thought of the group of six that Angie had met during the _Beginners_ class at Crystal's pole dance studio over two months ago instantly lightened her unusually solemn mood.

The company of the girls was like a breath of fresh air after years of near isolation, acting as Josh's live-in housekeeper. They actually made working out fun, something Angie had never thought possible. Something she hadn't expected when she had followed up on the ad she had seen on TV.

Tired of punishing herself and her oversized hips in the gym every week—who wanted to don boring sneakers to run on a treadmill when she could wear glitzy high-heels climbing a pole?—she had signed up to try the fitness craze. After getting her first taste of pole teacher Ruby's special brand of warm-up, she had almost given up. But she had endured the first class, then braved the second, surprised that she was actually starting to enjoy herself. By the third class she had known she would stick around and had even managed to shed some weight. Unfortunately her high had lasted only until that night. Josh had broken up with her, and although Angie wasn't crying after their relationship, she hadn't dealt well with Josh's inflexibility that had threatened to land her on the street. By week eight—the end of their _Beginners_ course—she had managed to secure a tiny place in an apartment block not far from her university, but she had gained a whopping three pounds in the process. She had celebrated the sad realization that she had ruined yet another chance to become the slender beauty she had always dreamt of being with her first Sunday visit to the Ground Bean.

But even though pole dancing hadn't proved to be the magical solution to her weight problems Angie had hoped for, there had been no question whether she would sign up for the second level course at Crystal's. If swinging from a metal rod meant more liveliness and laughter with young women her age, she was going to class until she fell off the pole from arthritis. Especially if Lexa, a twenty-two-year-old, newly enamored dance student, organized more "after pole class get-togethers."

That reminded Angie, didn't Lexa move out of her roommate's apartment and didn't Molly refuse to let someone else move in? Something about not being compatible with other personalities. As far as Angie was concerned, Molly Rogers had too much money.

Good for Angie though, if Molly agreed to store Angie's mute and characterless boxes in Lexa's old room.

Angie pursed her lips. It didn't hurt to ask. Contrary to Molly, _she_ didn't have money to throw around. Not even for renting storage space.

Although Angie could rely on her parents to transfer a fairly large amount of cash to her bank account every month—a cash flow that would dry up as soon as she graduated, as her mother liked to remind her—she had always been conscious about saving where she could. Living in New York was expensive and there was no guarantee she would earn anything as an unestablished artist after she finished her studies. It was only prudent to accumulate a stash of monetary reserves now, in case she struggled to find a temporary job that covered all her expenses later.

Resolving to speak to Lexa first—it would probably be better to approach Molly through her long-time friend—Angie finally relaxed back in the comfortably worn leather seat.

She had a plan. And she didn't have to be at Josh's for another two hours. The second level, _Sophomore_ pole dance course started on Tuesday. All in all, life was good.

Especially when one gorged oneself on the near-perfect creations of The Dessert God.

Angie picked up another raspberry macaroon from her plate to nibble on and allowed her gaze to drift to the tall figure standing behind the counter of the coffee shop, serving customers with the ever-present smile on his handsome face.

Edward Daniels. Fantasy lover and drop-dead-gorgeous owner of the Ground Bean. Angie had developed somewhat of an obsession with the guy since the first time the pole girls had forced her into the little coffee shop to celebrate the successful completion of their _Beginners_ course. Nobody had needed to force her since. If the cupcake Edward had personally served her that day hadn't swayed her, and—who was she kidding?—she'd had the first chocogasm of her life, his voice alone could have done the trick. Smooth and rich, like the desserts he created, she'd been melting faster than butter in a pan.

Edward looked up at that moment and Angie gave him a wink, watching a familiar red flush creep into his cheeks. He was adorable to watch when he floundered. Even after three weeks of teasing him, she still couldn't believe that he could be flustered by her boldness. This Adonis who could snap his fingers and have women at his feet was clearly at a loss when it came to handling public flirting. The thought was puzzling and flattering at the same time. Did the women in this city have no sense for adventure? Surely one or two of them must have tried their luck before.

Over the rim of her coffee cup, Angie saw Edward motion for an employee to take over the counter and anticipation fluttered in her belly. In a minute or two he would amble over to her, taking the time to speak to regulars in passing. It was the first thing Angie had noticed about him. He always seemed to have an open ear for the wishes and concerns of the people around him. He was one of the most relatable business owners she had ever met. The more she got to know him, the more she admired him. And there was a whole lot to admire about Edward Daniels.

Her mouth went dry as he approached, his full lips tilted in a lopsided grin. His green apron with the coffee-shop logo hugged his lean hips and emphasized his broad-shouldered frame. His brown-blond hair, too long to defy gravity on its own, was mussed up just enough to look effortlessly sexy. His eyes were a color Angie had never seen in her life, a mottled combination of brown and blue. They were set off by two dark slashes of eyebrows and a designer stubble that covered his jawline, cheeks, and upper lip. He looked as delicious as anything he put on her plate. And just like the sweets he created for a living, he should be strictly off limits for Angie.

Guys like him didn't date girls like her, even if she had jokingly proclaimed during their first meeting that a woman was always in a relationship with her main chocolate provider.

He was too tall, too good-looking, too freaking lean. Jaguar, meet hippo. It would never work.

But Angie could dream, and dreamt she had. More nights than she could count or cared to admit. About his voice, his hands. His kissable mouth.

"Do you like my treats?" that same mouth inquired at this moment, the low timbre of his baritone voice sliding effortlessly under her skin.

Angie felt her insides clench in response.

She swallowed the last bit of her—his—macaroon and reminded herself that he wasn't flirting. He never did. Public space and all. His not-quite-innocent question was simply his way of making sure that she would come back a week from now. His business hinged on his good rapport with his customers. _All_ customers. That didn't mean _she_ should hold back.

Pushing his buttons was like an instant energy boost. A delicious zing that bounced around her body for hours. It was probably also as close as she would ever get to acting on her attraction to this man.

Deciding she deserved a little cheering up after the annoyance that had been Josh's texts, Angie smoothed her hair, exposing her neck where she had fantasized about feeling Edward's lips and looked at him from underneath her lashes. "If I say yes, will you treat me some more?"

His chuckle raised goose-bumps all over her skin. Then he surprised her by leaning in to whisper in her ear. "I'll treat you any way you like."

Angie sucked in a breath, his unique scent of sugar and orange peel tickling her nose. Her thighs pressed together. A shiver worked down her spine. "You're a bad boy," she breathed.

"You have no idea," Edward murmured, sending more delicious heat curling low in her belly. "I'll show you _how_ bad exactly. Just say the word, Angel."

_What the..._ Angie swiveled her head. Was he coming on to her?

But Edward had already straightened, looking once again perfectly innocent. "I'll get you some more macaroons on the house."

Angie watched him retreat and shook herself, wondering if she had imagined the whole exchange. Wondering who was floundering now.

So much for not flirting with her. After three weeks of letting her think _he_ was easily flustered, he had turned the tables on her with no effort at all. The man could _talk_.

She took a sip of cool water, suppressing the urge to fan herself.

_Just say the word, Angel._

Her nan was right. Silent waters _did_ run deep. And what was she supposed to do now? No way could she take him up on the offer. No way couldn't she.

Before Angie could come to a conclusion on how to deal with this new side of Edward—a side that she had never expected, but one that set her whole body to tingling—she saw a woman intercept Edward, her long-limbed shape punctuated by a tailored business suit. Her ash blond hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail. Her weight balanced out at an exact size zero. She looked perfectly proportioned. Perfectly put together. And one hundred percent perfectly boring.

Angie's eyes narrowed as Edward grabbed the woman's elbow and steered her past the crowd in front of the counter.

What did he want with little Miss Perfect? Surely the colorless stick wasn't his girlfriend. Not after the proposition he had just delivered. A proposition that had sounded an awful lot as if he would like to handle her in the most delicious sense of the word. The thought made Angie uncommonly giddy and way more excited than was warranted under the Jaguar-Hippo clause.

She shook herself again to wipe the stupid grin off her face and shifted surreptitiously to keep the couple in her sight as Edward steered them toward a quiet table not far from her own.

As always, Angie sat close to the kitchen door. She liked hearing the bustle of activity inside. She liked the smells of baking wafting in her direction. She most certainly liked Edward's deep voice as he gave instructions to his crew.

Right now, though, she most loved the fact that she must have become an accessory in his shop. Someone who could be trusted to overhear a business meeting. Because it _was_ business that had brought the walking ad of a slimming agent here. Of that Angie was certain as soon as the woman addressed him as _Mr. Daniels_.

Angie repositioned her chair to catch as much of the conversation as she could, while trying to appear immersed in the information scrolling on her cell phone's screen.

"I've put together a folder with 'possibles.'" The woman handed over a tablet and Angie thought she saw a flash of a model's face.

Edward swiped his finger over the touchscreen, his eyes studying the gallery of pictures intently. His brows drew together, his mouth set into a thin, flat line.

Angie's fingers curled with the urge to grab her sketching paper out of her bag. She had severely underestimated the man. There was so much more to Edward Daniels than she had suspected so far.

Gone was the easygoing people-pleaser who reeled all his customers in with his too-big heart. Gone was also the dirty-talking seducer, who had made Angie flush hot and cold while he had cleared her table as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

In his stead was a determined businessman with an implacable will, who obviously hadn't gotten what he had asked for.

There was a whole range of emotions buried under the imperturbable façade that Edward usually allowed people to see, and now that Angie knew what was bubbling under that calm surface of his, the painter in her itched to discover it all.

The woman in her was even more curious. But that was dangerous territory. So Angie focused back on safer ground. Like her year-end project for the university. A study of complex personalities in oil paintings would be perfect.

_The Hundred Faces of Edward Daniels_.

"They won't do." Edward shook his head, snapping Angie out of her runaway thoughts.

He handed back the device to Miss Perfect, who didn't look quite so perfect anymore with a harrowed brow.

The woman exhaled a panicked sigh. "This is the third time you are throwing back our choices."

"It is the third time you're suggesting a model with their hip-bones and spine sticking out can make people believe they're enjoying my desserts."

"But they could."

Angie snorted, then quickly coughed when both occupants shot her a glance.

"Sort it out," Edward growled, and that growl did something wicked to Angie's insides.

"Mr. Daniels," the woman said, sounding decidedly unsettled. "We've tried to _sort it out_ for the past two months. We have always worked so well together, but after losing Avery—" She twisted her hands when Edward flinched. "All I'm saying is that it seems particularly difficult this year."

"It's your job. You're telling me you can't find a single person people can actually relate to for my marketing campaign?" Edward asked incredulously, careful to keep his voice from rising. "Look at my customers." He waved a hand around the room. "How difficult can it be to find someone like them?"

The woman blinked before relief transformed her features. "This is a brilliant idea, Mr. Daniels. To search for the next face of the Ground Bean _right here_. A modeling contest among your customers will be great publicity. Ordinary people love to do extraordinary things."

"That's not what I meant." Edward shook his head, but the woman was clearly sold on the idea. Or maybe she was just sold on finding a solution before Edward threatened to terminate the contract.

"I can send you our specifications in terms of what we need for the photo shoot later this evening. Everyone meeting the criteria can sign up. We set up a panel and determine the person best suitable during a one-day audition. As a general rule of thumb, I'm thinking female, between five foot three and five foot seven. No more than a hundred and thirty pounds."

Angie rolled her eyes. Well, that ruled her out then. Not that she intended to sign up for this circus. There was a reason why artists flourished behind the scenes and left the limelight to their work. But was it too much to ask for a little bit more diversity in marketing campaigns?

Her phone chimed, reminding her that she needed to leave for Josh's. Just as well. Her close to one hundred and fifty pounds didn't need the extra calories she would ingest with all the on-the-house treats Edward had promised.

She grabbed her bag and took one last glance at the Dessert God.

_Just say the word, Angel._

Angie felt another flutter of excitement tightening her insides. Unless, of course, the treats were of a different variety altogether.
**Excerpt: Hate to Love**

**(Pole Dance 3)**

**Chapter 1**

"I can't believe Edward proposed." Molly caught Angie's hand and studied the radiant-cut diamond in the bright lights in front of New York's hottest strip club, Jewel's. "Did you know about this?" She looked at her former roommate Lexa, who was dating Edward's brother Jack.

"I heard a rumor." Lexa leaned in to sneak a glance at the ring. "No hard facts. Until now."

"Wait, what? Engaged?" Kaycee sidled closer. "Are you saying this is your _bachelorette_ party and you didn't tell us?"

" _Someone_ didn't want to wear the standard inflatable pecker on their head." Lizzie waggled her eyebrows.

"That's not it." Angie had the decency to look sheepish. "I was going to tell you about the wedding. Truly, I was. See, here?" She dug in her handbag to pull out a stack of embossed invitations and started handing them out one by one. "Things just happened so quickly."

"No shit." Tracy slid the white card with bold black and gold writing into her bag. "I'll check my calendar when I get home."

"I'm sure it's packed with social engagements." Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Can I bring a second plus one if Tracy RSVPs 'with regrets'?"

"She won't." Lexa sent Tracy a warning glance, who stared back with a defiant gleam in her eyes.

"I just think it's ridiculous to hook up, get engaged, then get married in such short succession."

"Forget timelines." Emily stared longingly at the gemstone on Angie's hand. "When you know, you know. And what _I_ want to know is how he proposed? Did he kneel? Was there champagne? Oh, oh, oh, don't tell me. I bet he baked this fantastic cake."

"Actually—"

"Molly, hide. Now!" Kaycee's sudden outcry was almost lost over the excitement that had gripped their little group, but Molly had been waiting for exactly such a warning since she stepped out of her two-bedroom apartment less than an hour ago.

She slid behind Lizzie's voluptuous figure, pulling the designer hair piece slash hat that she couldn't pass up while out shopping on Fifth Avenue last month because it worked perfectly with her honey-blond curls further over her eyes.

"Smooth move." Angie, aspiring painter by passion, well of motivational encouragement by natural aptitude and _fiancée_ by evidence of the beautiful sparkler on her fourth finger, nodded appreciatively. "I knew there was a reason why you kept shunning our pole dance classes. You know how to work your body, no lessons required. Good reaction time, too." She gave Molly a thumbs-up, but was interrupted by Lexa.

"Not good enough." Lexa studied the narrow-eyed male who tried to stare a hole through Lizzie's body. The worried expression on her face said it all. "I think he recognized you, Mol. Dammit. This was supposed to be a relaxing, _anonymous_ evening."

Molly shot her friend a surprised look. It wasn't often that she heard Lexa swearing out loud, a single character trait they shared although the reasons for their reserve were vastly different.

While Molly had been drilled by her mother from a young age to watch her tongue—a survival skill on the political parquet that was Molly's nursery and one that she seemed to forget only in the presence of a single obnoxious male, Lexa was simply too self-conscious to raise her voice much.

Until she met the love of her life, Jack Daniels, earlier in the year, Lexa had been the epitome of an introvert personality with the social skills of a hermit. Since then, she had learned to resort to stronger language when the occasion called for it, had taken to dressing more sexily and had generally come out of her wallflower-y shell. All signs of her budding self-confidence. Molly was happy for her friend. Even if all the changes in Lexa's life had meant that she had moved out of their shared apartment to live with her new boyfriend.

Molly missed having Lexa as a roommate. Phone calls and the occasional Sunday morning coffee catch-up just didn't cut it when life called for an emergency BFF session.

Molly blew out a breath to shake off the feeling of melancholy that tried to grip her at the thought and instead stole another look at the guy Kaycee had spotted first.

"Any chance he will go away quietly?" she asked.

Tracy didn't waste a second to share her gloomy two cents worth. "Nah! He'll definitely call it in."

Molly ignored their little group's perpetual troublemaker in favor of the quiet anthropology student to her right. "Emily?"

"Sorry, Molly, he looks like a geek. Persistent, too."

"Not that we're judging him or anything." Lizzie snorted.

Emily shrugged her shoulders. "He has 'political activist' basically tattooed on his forehead. I can't believe you spotted him before I did." She pushed her glasses further up on her nose and regarded Kaycee with new admiration. "How did you know?"

"Takes one to know one, I guess." Kaycee's lips tilted in a lopsided grin.

"You're a political activist?" Angie whistled. "Looks _and_ brains. Are you sure you're still single?"

"'Fraid so." Kaycee went on tiptoe to look over Lizzie's shoulder at Molly. "I concur with Emily. He's not going anywhere. He'll want to make sure he gets his fifteen minutes of fame. He'll call the papers as soon as we're out of sight. I assume he'll even feel proud doing his part keeping the public informed of where their tax dollar is going. The potential to earn a little cash on the side for a newsworthy story won't make him change his mind. Tomorrow the whole nation will know that Molly Rogers, lawyer-to-be and daughter of Joana and Harold Rogers, political powerhouse couple of the new millennium, has visited a strip club."

Molly groaned.

"Look at the bright side." Lizzie turned to give Molly an encouraging smile." At least we're not wearing penis headpieces to match."

"That could actually have been an advantage," Lexa mused. "Bachelorette gear would have made it clear we _are_ visiting, not working,"

_Sheesh_. Worse and worse. Molly had to make sure they at least got that part right.

Even without the ridiculous exaggeration, the headlines would no doubt be scathing.

If past experiences were anything to go by, the scandal sheets would first speculate if she was finally going off the deep end like so many of her rich kid peers. The opinions on whether her Friday night extravaganza was going to hurt her career going forward would pour in soon thereafter. As would the questions on how her parents could claim to lobby for the empowerment of the female sex when their own and only daughter visited an establishment that went against everything that the emancipated modern woman strived for?

Of course, none of this would be a problem if Molly wasn't missing one crucial part of her anatomy that could be blamed for nearly every salacious impulse known to mankind and that—no matter how insignificant in some individuals—somehow safeguarded the bearer from public scrutiny through its existence alone. Men were almost _expected_ to spend their last day of the week staring at a naked piece of ass. Talk about gender equality.

Not that Molly was a stickler for the buzz phrase. She had accepted a long time ago that she had to work harder than her XY counterparts to be afforded the same respect.

There was a crossroads to consider for every woman, where to focus her efforts in life. For Molly, keeping bad people off the street had taken precedence over the fight for the right to pay for her half of the bill. Sure, she hoped the scales would balance out eventually. In the meantime she wasn't going to sweat it if her future boyfriend slash husband insisted on forking out for dinner. She was going to earn comparatively less than the man anyway.

Not that Molly could _ever_ voice this opinion anywhere near her parents' supporters. They would immediately label her as the ignorant brat that they had suspected her to be for years. According to their secret—not so secret—opinion, she enjoyed the easy life living off her family's considerable fortune and connections. Little did they know that Molly's parents were determined to make Molly earn her own place in the world and that Molly was contending against people on a daily basis who thought that she had already been handed that place on a silver platter and threw obstacles her way just to 'make her feel some of the pain that everyone else went through.'

Molly liked to think that she was a better person for not holding _their_ ignorance against them, or pointing out that they were wasting precious resources meddling with the fairly unimportant life of a young woman rather than using their time and energy to make the world a better place. But it was hard to bite her tongue, to turn a deaf ear when hateful comments were hurled her way and spiteful interference messed with her right to live a quiet life.

It was the kind of judgmental prejudice she had experienced before when dealing with political activists before. Only the lawyer in her was reluctant to throw the young man Kaycee had spotted into the same "jerkist" category, until she had undeniable proof. To obtain that proof, however, meant to risk her good name and that of her family.

Molly weighed her options. She could run right now, act as if she had met her friends in passing and never had any intention entering the club. Or, she could go ahead with the night as planned and deal with a potential fallout later.

Personally, she couldn't care less what any self-righteous prick thought of her. Or what the entire nation would think of her if the news hit. The only opinion she cared about was her parents' who, thanks to their political influence, had a professional obligation to care about polls and votes. Which meant there was really no escape for Molly from the consequences of her actions tonight and she would feel the full force of her mother's disappointment come morning.

Molly mashed her lips together. Well, she could at least make it worth her while, because she was not missing out on this evening with her friends. Political activist or not.

Stepping out from behind the relative shield of Lizzie's back, Molly cut through the queue to the entrance of the club, causing the clatter of twelve high-heeled feet to scurry after her, one pair faster than the rest.

"You really want to do this?" Lexa caught up with her in time to watch Molly flash her ID card at the bouncer who, after a quick double take, lifted the red cutoff rope to let them into the hallowed halls of Jewel's, one of New York's most sought after, and if rumor was to be believed, most refined strip clubs.

Molly shrugged. Refined or not, she had just blown every chance to safeguard her reputation by refusing to mislead the young man who was still watching her with undue interest from the sidelines as to her intended destination.

"You said he wasn't going to go away. What do you want me to do?"

"We could have tried to sneak you in," Lexa suggested.

Molly tilted her head at the curious glances their group received from the predominantly male clientele. "Not a chance. Apart from the strippers, we are the only women in this place."

Lexa faltered at the truth in Molly's statement.

"So, what?" Emily asked. "Keep calm and carry on?"

"Exactly that." Molly blew out a breath, counseling herself to take her own advice. "Anyone have an idea how to blend in here?"

"I do." Angie pointed at a medium-sized reception desk where a scantily clad woman sold wads of flashy paper money to new arrivals.

"What on earth?" Lizzie plucked a colorful note from the back pocket of a guy standing close.

Emily slapped a hand in front of her mouth. "I can't believe you just stole a stripper dollar."

" _Borrowed._ And how do you know what these are called?"

Red swept up Emily's neck. "I did some research."

"Yet you have the audacity to lecture me on doing the same?" Lizzie raised a brow.

" _Internet_ research," Emily murmured, embarrassed.

"Pha! Who wants to ask a search engine for answers when the hands-on approach is so much more preferable?" Lizzie asked, returning the dollar to its owner, but not without patting the guy's backside and copping a feel. "Tight," she whispered.

Emily buried her face in her hands. "Theft and a sexual harassment charge."

"He didn't mind." Lizzie flashed a brilliant smile at her victim, who had turned and was hesitantly returning the favor. "I wonder what he's doing here. With a face like his _I_ wouldn't make him pay."

"Don't even think about it," Lexa warned, hooking an arm through Lizzie's. "We're trying to blend in, remember?"

" _You_ are trying to blend in," Lizzie said. "I'm simply trying to enjoy myself."

"Not with the clientele."

"But—"

"No but."

"And obviously also no 'butt.'" Lizzie sighed, giving the tight behind a last appreciative glance. "So you want to buy fake money?" she asked Angie. "Why?"

"It's the only currency allowed in the club."

"Like the tokens in a casino?" Kaycee was catching on quick.

"Exactly right." Angie pointed at one of the strippers. Multiple dollar notes were sticking out of her G-string. "Tipping the dancers is appreciated by Jewel's staff and management," she explained. "More important, it's our only way to help Gigi out tonight."

"Done." At the mention of their friend's name, Molly slapped a wad of cash into Angie's palm.

She didn't usually throw money around. Well, maybe for clothes. And shoes. And accessories, at times. But she _tried_ to live a modest lifestyle despite her parents' immodest wealth. Only sometimes, like today, in situations like this one was she willing to splash out.

Because Molly, Tracy, Kaycee, Angie, Lexa, Emily and Lizzie weren't here just for fun. They had actual work to do. They were acting as the unwavering support group for Gigi Valentino, shy mouse and stripping novice. What a combination.

Gigi, like the rest of the group except for Molly, had been taking pole dancing lessons at New York's hip pole dance studio Crystal's for the past six month. Unlike the rest of the girls, the lessons had been business for Gigi, rather than pleasure. Because the strip club's management had threatened her with dismissal if she didn't learn how to work a rod.

Today was Gigi's stripping debut and considering their friend's timid nature, Gigi was going to need all the help she could get. Emotional and monetary. Hence seven girls and stripper dollars.

"Awesome." Angie added up the collective sum before handing it over to the receptionist. "Maybe I'll top up my share and get a couple dollars extra to give to Edward, to slip into my panties on our wedding night when we—"

"TMI." Emily covered her ears and mumbled under her breath when heads swiveled to openly stare in their direction, more than one dropping in the general vicinity of Angie's crotch. "Gosh, this is so embarrassing."

Molly felt her lips twitch. Her decision to let fun rule this night rather than reason was growing on her. It wasn't often that she pushed the unspoken boundaries of society. Other than indulging in the odd one-night stand, she usually barely nudged at them. Even that little bit of freedom had lost its attraction in recent months for reasons she didn't want to examine too closely.

It felt good to take a break from being "Molly Goody Two Shoes" and be "Molly Good Times" instead. She was going out tonight. _All out_. She had earned this celebration after finishing her law degree summa cum laude. The serious side of life would have to wait for once. It was going to catch up with her again soon enough.

"Oh my God. You're here."

At the squeaky squeal behind them, Molly turned to see Gigi—their charge for the evening—teeter toward them in a pair of fuchsia and black stripper heels, her long-limbed figure highlighted by some sexy négligée ensemble, temporarily made half-decent by a wide fur stole wrapped around her neck that dropped halfway down her thighs.

"Of course we are." Lexa moved to wrap her arms around the slim girl in a comforting hug, careful not to disturb the shiny mass of dark brown hair that looked sleek and chic and not at all like it belonged to a girl whose lap dance services could be bought for the night. "We wouldn't miss your debut for the world."

"Debut?" Tracy frowned, taking a second to process the unsurprised expressions around her. "I'm the only one who doesn't know?"

"Are you surprised, Grouchy?" Lizzie jumped to Gigi's rescue.

Only Molly saw the fractional tightening of Tracy's jaw at the unflattering nickname. After a moment, the European shrugged. "Just curious. I thought you'd been employed here for months."

Gigi blushed. "I never made it out from behind the bar."

"Stage fright?" Emily guessed, laying a comforting hand on Gigi's arm.

"Stage terror, more like. That's why I started taking the classes. To get used to dancing in front of people. Today's my last chance."

"You'll do great." Kaycee squeezed Gigi's shoulder.

Gigi twisted her hands in front of her body. "I hope so."

Molly considered the girl. How the timid mouse thought she was going to drop her clothes in front of a bunch of strange men was beyond her.

"Just imagine them naked," Tracy suggested, earning more than one outraged glance.

"Not while she's giving them a lap dance." Emily glared. "There has to be a better strategy. How do _you_ cope with scrutiny from strangers, Molly? You're used to being in the limelight."

"Uh, I'm not sure that's quite the same." Molly saw Gigi's hopeful expression falter. "Then again, I guess it's worth a shot. I usually look for an audience member who gives me positive vibes. You know, the cute guy in the front row who's smiling. A nice gentleman who keeps nodding. Anybody who makes you feel more comfortable. Speak, uh, dance for them and forget the rest of the crowd."

"You're right. It's not quite the same." Gigi nibbled on her lip. "It's not even the dancing that worries me most. After my set is up, I'm supposed to work the floor, talk to the guys to get them to book me for a private performance." Gigi stared at the tips of her shoes, her voice shaking. "I'm not good at talking, girls. How am I ever going to make enough money for the club to keep me on?"

"Don't worry. We've got you covered." Angie waved a fistful of the dollars she had just exchanged. "You're going to make a killing tonight."

Gigi's eyes widened, her smile tremulous but genuine. "You are the best friends in the world, you know that right?"

"Sure we do," Lizzie patted Gigi's mostly uncovered butt. "Now off with you. I, for one, want to see a proper show for my money." She winked.

Half an hour later, Lizzie's request was being fulfilled as Gigi twirled like a pro on the pole. Molly didn't have much experience except for what Lexa had told her about the classes, but compared to the other strippers in the club, Gigi sure rocked the metal. It didn't hurt that she had a killer body.

Molly could barely believe that the seductress on stage was the same girl who could barely string three sentences together in front of strangers.

Gigi was definitely going to make a killing. Even without their help and her lack of conversational skills she was going to be busy private dancing for the rest of the night.

Molly narrowed her eyes.

If the guy clenching and unclenching his fists in the shadowed corner of the club had anything to say about it, it would probably be with him.

Molly let her eyes drift across the room. He would have a lot of competition. There wasn't a man at the club who wasn't eating Gigi up with his eyes.

_No. Wrong._ There were a couple of guys sitting with their backs to the stage. Molly snorted when she recognized their faces. She leaned across the table to shout over the beat of the music. "Lexa. Angie. Did you know Jack and Edward are here?"

Two pairs of eyes snapped away from Gigi's performance toward her, then followed her gaze. Her friends' mouths dropped open.

"They didn't..." Lexa growled.

"They did," Angie huffed. "They better have a good explanation." She jumped up when a dancer off stage approached the table. "If she touches him—"

"Calm down, girlfriend." Lizzie patted Angie's arm. "He's blown off the last three who tried to strike up a conversation." She looked at Lexa. "As did Jack. From what I can see, they are here for you. They haven't let you out of their sight since we arrived. Haven't even looked once at all the naked woman-flesh prancing around here."

"Woman-flesh? Ew." Tracy wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"You knew?" Lexa asked, outraged, as Angie slowly sank back into her chair.

Lizzie lifted her eyebrows. "You mean, did I notice their presence when every guy who tries to approach our table swerves past us at the last moment and quickly heads in a different direction? I was hoping to get lucky tonight, you know."

Emily groaned. "Oh no, Liz. Not in a strip club."

"Why not?"

" _Because._ "

Gigi's set came to an end at that moment and Molly's attention was diverted away from her bickering friends toward the good-looking stranger who had been holding on to his temper through sheer force of will. He peeled away from the wall to stalk toward the back of the round stage where Gigi was descending a couple of stairs, her head bent until the guy grabbed her arm.

"Hey!"

It was the first time Molly heard Gigi squeak above a whisper.

A security guard materialized from the shadows with impressive speed, but Gigi didn't look frightened. Her expression was one of...anger? Molly did a double-take. Could the timid girl indeed be furious?

Gigi was full of surprises tonight. She told the security guard to stand down with an almost imperceptible shake of her hand, before very deliberately extracting her wrist from the possessive clasp of the stranger, who reluctantly let her go. But only after Gigi indicated that they were going to continue their conversation in a slightly more private area of the room.

Molly craned her neck to see whether Gigi was truly okay, or if she needed an intervention from her friends. But a cone of light settling on the next dancer climbing the stage blinded her momentarily before it swung toward the audience over the heads of Jack and Edward, who were cracking jokes at a third man who had arrived from the bar and who was setting down drinks at their table. For an instant, Molly's gaze lingered on the broad back, the strange familiarity of the man's movement.

His thick hair was just long enough to curl at his nape and Molly thought she could make out the distinct shape of a strong nose and full lips.

Molly sucked in a breath.

It couldn't be. Life couldn't be this cruel to allow _him_ to choose the same night to accompany his brothers that Molly was here too.

She pushed back in her chair, then thought better of it and chugged the rest of the frilly, neon green cocktail that the well-endowed waitress had delivered to their table some time ago. Her eyes were stuck like glue to what simply couldn't be the profile of someone whose profile she had no business remembering.

_Michael Daniels._ Her arch enemy and the one man who certainly _wasn't_ making all her lady parts sit up and take notice.

Molly watched as he turned toward the stage, his head moving in the distinct fashion that all men seemed to adopt whenever they followed a nice piece of ass with their eyes.

Molly told herself she didn't care. She didn't care that he liked what he saw. She _didn't_ care that he was salivating after a nameless stripper.

She repeated the words right up to the point where jealousy sucker punched her in the gut and she fled to the bar to escape the infuriating sight.

***

Thank god the performance was over.

Michael set down the two beers and one soda that he had ordered at the bar rather than instructing the waitress servicing their table and watched as a new dancer climbed the stage.

_Nothing._ His brow furrowed in annoyance when the traitor below his belt didn't even give a twitch of appreciation for the seriously attractive redhead. She was exactly his type. Curvaceous...

Michael huffed. Wasn't it just a sad reflection of his state of mind that he could still think in politically correct terms sitting in a strip club on a Friday night?

"Let me guess. From the lack of excitement on your face, she's not a blonde."

His brother Edward grinned as Michael pushed one of the beer glasses in his direction forcefully enough to make the frothy liquid slosh over the rim.

"Aw, not the right eye color either?" Jack, his other brother, chimed in.

"Fuck off." Michael growled. "The woman's fine."

At least Michael would be able to watch this one dance without feeling like a dirty bastard. Something he hadn't been able to do with Gigi Valentino. Not because he was a good person, or because he didn't like strippers as much as the next guy. Hell, he wouldn't be here if he hadn't at least at some point enjoyed the chance to stare at tits and ass all night.

No, watching Lexa's friend perform her sexy routine had felt wrong for other reasons. Not only was Lexa practically family, but how was Michael supposed to look Gigi in the eye the next time they happened to cross paths, knowing he had seen her flash her barely clad crotch at a roomful of blue-balled men? Knowing she _knew_ he had seen her flash her crotch. But that wasn't the only reason. The girl reminded him too much of his younger sister, Sophie. Long-limbed. Delicate. _Vulnerable._

Not the manufactured vulnerability that some strippers seemed to cultivate to try and deceive men into thinking they were watching a virgin perform instead of a master manipulator, but the vulnerability that came from being too young, too sheltered. And wasn't that a contradiction in terms for someone who worked in this profession?

It begged the question of what Gigi was doing here. And did _she_ even know what she was doing here? Did she know that her innocence stood out in this dimly lit room like a beacon of light? And like moths to the light Gigi had drawn way more than her fair share of looks. Good for business. Troublesome for the slender beauty, who Michael couldn't help but worry about in an entirely big-brotherly kind of way and who he suspected was further out of her element than even she realized.

Knowing it was none of his business but unable to shake the feeling that Gigi wasn't half as confident as she wanted everyone to believe, Michael had found himself hard-pressed not to climb the stage and wrap his suit jacket around the girl when she had dropped that fur thing that had served as a half-assed cover-up at the beginning of her set. It was only after he realized that he was halfway out of his seat that he had used his brothers' comments about another round of drinks as an excuse to escape the unsettling view.

At the bar, he had spent his waiting time trying to come up with a way to suggest a different kind of profession to the girl. If it was money that Gigi needed, a paid internship at his own company, Corporate Calls, could tide her over until she found a job she wanted to stick with long term. He had once before taken a chance on one of her friends. Lexa had gone on to become a permanent employee. With such a great success to look back upon, he was more than willing to take another chance on an inexperienced candidate.

But when he returned to the table, drinks in hand, he realized that his intervention would not be needed. Someone else had already taken over the task of rescuing the girl.

Michael shot another look at the very tall, very pissed-off male who had snagged Gigi's arm as soon as the girl stepped off the stage and who was currently staring down the six-foot-plus security guard without even looking at the man. Talk about skill. Of course, security would have to take him on anyway, if it wasn't for the almost imperceptible shake of Gigi's head. She obviously knew the guy well enough to allow him to manhandle her. And she knew enough about the club's policies to realize that making a scene—even one that wasn't her fault—would mean the end of her stint at Jewel's.

Men didn't come here for drama. They came here for the illusion of willing and able women. They thought it was their prerogative to treat the strippers like objects of desire that could star in their dirtiest, filthiest fantasies, if they just had the right amount of cash in their wallets.

Michael should know. He was a regular. Or at least he had been until a few months ago, because recently he could barely dredge up the motivation to come to his favorite strip club on his usual Friday night.

Ever since he first saw _her—_ a fuck-up of epic proportions—he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. And the only fantasies he had starred a certain blonde bombshell. Damn it all to hell.

The woman who his brothers were talking about was irritating as all get out. And that was as politically correct as he was going to get about Molly Rogers.

Michael's mouth set into a thin, flat line as the thought of her name alone made excitement pump through his blood without warning. Excitement that had persistently eluded him over the last half hour.

He didn't _want_ his body to react this way. Nothing would ever come from lusting after the woman. He was as likely to get his hands on her as he was to catch a puff of the special-effect smoke that rolled around the stripper stage and that was part of the club's carefully crafted reality of haze, low lighting and significant amounts of alcohol that was supposed to turn the ordinary into extraordinary and loosen the male clientele's inhibitions along with their wallets. Too bad Michael was stone-cold sober. Another epic fail. One he had brought on himself.

Who in their right mind took their car to a strip club? Only him. Only because he hated commuting in overcrowded subways, was successful enough as senior partner of his own company to not have to settle for public transportation, and didn't actually plan to spend his Friday night in this fine establishment, until he learned of his brothers' plan for the evening. Car or no car, Michael couldn't pass up the opportunity to watch his brothers explain to their girlfriends what they were doing in a strip club. The fireworks were going to be epic.

Ready to pour some oil onto the kindling and hopefully distract himself from the one face that stuck in his mind like glue, he let his gaze stray back to the dancer on stage. He gave the curvy redhead in her minuscule baby-doll dress a lingering look he didn't feel. "I changed my mind. She's actually pretty fucking amazing. As you would see for yourself if you weren't too chickenshit to turn around."

Edward gave a laugh. "Forget it, man. I know you. I'm not going to fall for that. Much better view from this angle."

"Safer, you mean," Michael needled him, not bothering to follow Edward's gaze. He could hear the female party at his back in all its noisy glory. They had arrived at some point after Michael and his brothers and their laughter was piercing the music that was pumping around them at regular intervals. It seemed that Lexa, Angie and their pole-dancing friends were enjoying the night of their lives.

Edward shrugged his shoulders. "That, too."

"You know what you two are, right?" Michael tilted the neck of his soda bottle in a silent toast. "Pussy-whipped."

Neither of his brothers dignified him with a response. As if either of them could dispute the fact. _Ha._ The only reason Edward and Jack had even dared to set foot in the strip club was to keep an eye on their girlfriends. And Michael understood the sentiment behind the move—any woman entering a strip club was likely to be subjected to a lot of unwanted scrutiny, not something Jack and Edward wanted to let happen. But the fact that they kept their backs turned toward the stage and their eyes firmly away from the dancers spoke volumes about who was wearing the pants in their relationships.

"I feel sorry for you." Michael sighed.

"No need," Edward drawled. "At least we weren't too _chickenshit_ to go after what we wanted."

Michael tried hard not to glare. His brother had it all wrong. He did _not_ want Molly Rogers. His body just hadn't gotten the memo yet.

He decided to play dumb. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"Oh, good." Edward leaned back, steepling his fingers over his stomach. "Then you won't be interested that _you don't know who I'm talking about_ is part of the girls group and currently being propositioned by two guys at the bar."

Michael didn't even hear his brother's laugh, or Jack's _must have forgotten the coasters_ , until he was already halfway to said bar.
S.G. Lovell lives in Queensland, Australia with her family and their two dogs. She spends her days reading, writing, and enjoys connecting with her fans online.

Visit S.G. Lovell on the web at:

www.sglovell.com
