She would have described the room as classy casual, a gleaming crystal chandelier juxtaposed with an antique, weathered breakfront cabinet. The table was large enough to seat eight, and set with a white tablecloth, crystal goblets and glasses, and white accoutrement.
Ian pulled out a chair for Jada on the side then sat at the end nearest her. It was more intimate than she’d thought it might be. The lighting helped, romantically heightened with a pair of flickering, tapered candlesticks.
Mrs. Best arrived within mere moments, serving up the first course. Ian thanked her and told her he’d pour the wine. Mrs. Best bustled back out of the room.
Ian poured the wine, which turned out to be delicious, chatted amiably and made conversation obviously intended to draw Jada out about her job, home and family. Jada could hardly answer in complete sentences.
At some point between leaving her room and right then, nerves had overtaken her. She was having dinner with one of the richest, most accomplished men in the world, and he was looking at her like she was the only woman in the world. It was heady stuff and she felt every iota of it.
She picked at the salad, hardly tasting the tangy dressing. She pulled apart her crusty roll, buttered it, then couldn’t take even a nibble.
“Don’t you like it?” Ian asked.
“Oh, no. It’s delicious. I’m ... well, it’s just kind of hard to believe I’m here, that’s all. It’s been a long, strange day.”
Ian nodded. “Agreed. And since it brought us here, to this moment, I wouldn’t change a single second of it.”
Jada looked at him, shyly at first, then with more verve. “Not even the part where—”
“Don’t finish that sentence. Not a single thing, I tell you. I wouldn’t change it. How about you?”
“I—”
She was interrupted by a knock on the doorframe. She looked over and saw uniformed Lydia standing there.
“Sir,” she said after Ian beckoned her to enter. “If I might have a word with you.”
“Of course. Is something wrong?”
“I’m not certain. Perhaps we should discuss this in private.”
Ian cocked his head. “Is it an emergency? I’m having dinner, obviously.”
The tall, stately woman appeared distinctly uncomfortable. “Yes, well, I don’t think it can wait. The subject of this situation is ... impatient to have it resolved.”
“Fine. Whatever it is, I’m sure Jada won’t mind if we discuss it.”
“Of course I don’t,” Jada said.
Lydia shot Jada an indecipherable glance. “This might be a delicate subject.”
“You’re so conservative, Lydia,” Ian said. “Go on. Tell me what the problem is.”
Lydia stood ramrod straight and squared her shoulders. “It’s Miss Sasha, Sir, your ...” she cleared her throat, “... er, girlfriend. She and her publicist are at the front gate and they’re demanding we let them in.”
Jada took the news like a wallop up the side of her head. Sasha. Ian’s girlfriend. The woman that the online gossip ezines rumored to be Ian’s fiancee. The supermodel with one name. THAT Sasha.
Well, duh.
So that’s what had been tickling the edges of Jada’s memory all evening. How in hell could Jada have forgotten that Ian had a girlfriend, that he might even be engaged?
Jada thought she must be the biggest idiot in the world, not a feeling she was accustomed to. She didn’t make these kinds of numbskull mistakes. She eyed her wineglass. Maybe they put something in the alcoholic beverages out here at rich-people estates. It was the only thing that would explain it.
Or maybe she’d been foolishly swept away in the fantasy that a billionaire could be a normal person, and might want a real woman like Jada in his life, want her for more than a roll on a dock.
Wow. She truly was a sucker. And Ian was a no-good player.
Jada swallowed hard and did her best not to allow the crushing wave of disappointment to push her out of the room, weeping.
She looked over at Ian, who appeared as shell-shocked as Jada felt. “This part,” she said.
“What?” he asked.
“I’d change this part, right here, if I could.”
He picked up his wine glass and downed the contents in one long draught. “You and me both,” he said, and refilled his glass. He held the bottle out to her in invitation.
She nodded and he filled it up. It might not be the best way to handle the situation, but it appealed to her at the moment. She took a long swig, and didn’t choke when Ian finally gave his answer to Lydia.
“Let them in,” he said.