The Wager (The Bet 2)

She blushed profusely. “Thank you.”

The way he looked at her made her feel naked. And now she remembered why things had gone haywire in the first place. She never knew which Jake she was talking to. The one who had been her friend when she was little, or the millionaire playboy who had no soul.

Char doubted he even knew which one he was. She just needed to make sure she remembered, lest she end up with a broken heart again.

“Everyone decent?” Grandma called from the other side of the curtain.

Jake stepped back and winked. “Unfortunately.”

Char felt her face heat.

“Damn,” Grandma called. “You’ve lost your touch, son.”

“Don’t I know it.” He licked his lips and nodded one last time at Char before stepping on the other side of the curtain.

What the heck just happened?

It took Char a good five minutes to get her jeans on. Her stupid hands were shaking so much she couldn’t pull up the zipper. And that was why men like Jake shouldn’t be free of their cages. It was dangerous, oh so dangerous.

“You ready yet?” Jake called. “Grandma’s pacing.”

“Coming.” Char bolted out of the dressing room, purse in hand. “Okay, what’s the emergency?”

Jake sighed and pointed to Grandma, who was at that very moment twirling in the middle o

f the store.

“I’m confused. Is she high?” Char examined Grandma as she continued to do the two-step and then twirl, only to stop, stomp her foot, and start over again.

“Wouldn’t put it past her,” Jake whispered.

“Hush!” Grandma stopped mid-twirl. “I’ve got it!”

“Funny, I thought she’d lost it,” Char murmured.

“Both of you!” Grandma pointed at them. “You’ll go.”

“Go?” Char.

“Both?” Jake.

“Ah, it’s settled. After all, I have a manicure I simply cannot miss. Here’s the to-do list. Most of these things need to be finished before we leave at the end of the week. Oh, and don’t be late. Madame despises tardiness.” She straightened her long pink scarf and clapped happily. “I’m so glad we’ve figured everything out! Kacey was in such a panic! You’ve both saved the day!”

A groan escaped Char’s mouth before she could stop it.

Jake put his hands out in front of him as if to calm Grandma down, or maybe himself; who knew? “Grandma, we can’t spend every day together figuring out last-minute wedding details.”

“Why ever not?” Grandma paused, concern etched in her brow.

“Because… I’m busy.” He coughed.

“Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t an occupation.”

“Neither is whoring around, and look where that got him,” Char added.

“See what I mean?” Jake pointed back at her. “I can’t even get along with her, let alone plan something. Do you want her death on your hands?”

“You’ll be fine. Besides, Char needs you—after all, she does have a job, and a great one at that. Now, you know how to get a hold of me if you need me.” Grandma jerked her sunglasses out of her giant purse and put them on her face. “Love you.”