“Well, since my girl has given me strict instructions that she needs to be back at her desk in an hour, how about the deli?” He points to a small deli across the street.
“You’re in luck. That’s one of my favorites.”
“Chicken salad?” he asks once we’re inside the deli.
“Turkey, swiss, spicy brown mustard, wheat,” I rattle off my order.
“Got it. Grab us a seat, beautiful.” He kisses me softly before heading toward the counter.
I can feel eyes on us, but I ignore them. I knew going in that being with Jase would garner stares that his fame warrants. I’m not sure if I can deal with the attention, but there is only one way for me to find out. Live it. So, eyes ignored, I grab us a table in the back corner that will hopefully give us a semblance of privacy.
“That was fast,” I say when Jase sets our tray filled with our lunch on the table between us.
“Would have been faster had I not had to sign a handful of autographs,” he mutters.
“Comes with the job,” I remind him.
“I’m retired.”
“Maybe, but the damage is done. Besides, I’ve never known you to not enjoy interacting with your fans.”
“Keeping tabs on me, beautiful?”
I shrug. “I’ve heard you talk about giving back to your fans a few times. It didn’t seem as though it bothered you.”
“It never used to, but today is different. I’m here with you, and I only get you for an hour. I don’t have time for interruptions.”
“Yeah, but it’s just me. I mean, I knew going into this… whatever we’re doing… that you were the infamous Jase Andrews. I know that you come with not only your handsome self but your adoring fans.” A look crosses his face, one I can’t name, but it disappears when a shadow falls over our table.
“Hi, you’re Jase Andrews,” a blonde bombshell with her tits on full display says in a husky voice.
“I am,” Jase grits.
“I’m Connie.” She sways from side to side, waiting for Jase to engage, but he doesn’t. “I’m a huge fan. I thought maybe we could get together sometime.” She hands him a slip of paper, which I’m certain has her phone number on it, but he just stares at her offered hand.
“I’m in a loving, committed relationship.” He points across the table at me. “If you were such an adoring fan, you would respect the fact that the love of my life is sitting across the table from me. Instead, you’ve disrespected her. I’d appreciate it if you would leave us to enjoy our lunch together.”
Her eyes glance my way, and I catch the look of disbelief written on her face. “I could—” she starts but shuts her mouth when Jase stands. Like a train wreck, I can’t look away. Her expression changes, and she thinks he’s going to leave with her, and I see it written all over her face. My eyes move to Jase, and without a doubt, that’s not what’s about to happen.
“I’ve asked you nicely. I won’t ask again. Leave us alone.” There is fury in his tone, and I know he’s about to lose his shit.
I open my mouth to try and calm him down, when Sally, the manager, steps next to the blonde. “Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to order or leave.” It looks like Sally has been observing the situation. Not that I’m really all that surprised. She runs a tightly oiled ship, which is part of what makes this place so great.
“Whatever. You're washed up anyway,” the blonde hisses at Jase before storming out of the deli.
“I’m sorry,” Sally tells us.
“It’s not your fault, but we appreciate you intervening,” I tell her. She nods and walks away. I glance up at Jase, who looks mad as hell. “Jase,” I say his name softly. His eyes snap to mine. “Please sit.” He does as I ask, taking his seat across from me. His fisted hands rest on the table. I cover them with my own. “Hey,” I say, making sure I have his attention. “Why so angry?”
“It’s dumb shit like that, that’s going to make me lose you.”
His words floor me. “That’s why you’re so upset?” I ask, needing clarification.
“Jesus, Sam. I just got you. I know my fame is part of why you’ve kept me at arm's length. If that’s what causes me to lose you…” He shakes his head.
“Jase.” His eyes snap to mine. “I’m right here.”
“For now. How many more times are you willing to deal with that shit?” The anger is replaced by something that looks a lot like worry.
“You told her I was the love of your life,” I say stupidly. Not the best time to bring that up, but it’s been playing in the back of my mind since the words left his mouth.