The Wager (The Bet 2)

“I must not be that guy anymore.” He stormed out of the room in search of Char.

An hour later, he still hadn’t located her to apologize. The only damn reason he’d been in that room in the first place was because Am

y had had so much to drink that he didn’t want her to ruin the party by going crazy—he’d seen her pop a few pills before her last glass of wine.

Muffling another curse, Jake made his way upstairs to get some of the oil off and to change into clothes that didn’t make him look like a poorly paid prostitute. Funny, how just a few months ago he would have been totally okay with looking like this. Now he just felt dirty, used, gross.

He’d grabbed a wet cloth and started wiping off the oil when a phone started ringing. He looked over at the nightstand. It was Char’s phone, and the screen told him the call was from her job.

She’d been ignoring her phone the whole weekend so he figured he’d just ignore it, too.

But ten minutes later, after two more missed calls, he lost his patience.

“Hello?” he snapped the minute it rang for the third time.

“Who the hell is this?” a man yelled.

“Jake Titus. Why? Who’s this?”

“Mike Cromwell. I’m your little girlfriend’s boss.”

Jake didn’t have the strength to say that they were anything but dating, and that Char was probably planning on killing him in his sleep tonight. “What can I do for you, Mike?”

“You can tell Char that she has exactly six hours to get a story to me or she’s fired.”

“A story?” Jake repeated. “Any story?”

“No, you idiot.” Mike cursed into the phone. “The wedding. She’s supposed to be covering the wedding.”

“But—”

The phone went dead.

Stunned, Jake sat on the bed, still holding the phone in his hand. So it was all about a story? She was being nice to him to get to him?

Like every other girl in the world.

Char wanted something from him, but now he wondered if the something she wanted wasn’t what he was willing to give. His body? Something snapped inside. Maybe she’d pushed him past his breaking point, but he was pissed. No, he was more than pissed. How could she do this to him? After everything he’d said to her? All they’d shared? To her, all he was worth was a flashy smile and a story. But to him? She was the world.

All the nameless faces of past conquests flashed through his mind. All the women, all the sex, all the partying… Every last female had wanted something from him, whether it was his money, his status, his bed. And Char? She’d turned out to be the worst of them all, because she’d pretended to be his friend. She’d maneuvered herself into his life so fully that the idea of purging her out was so repulsive he felt like he was going be sick. So this was what betrayal felt like? Like knives stabbing into your front and your back, an absolute loss of control over your own emotions? Right. Well, he hated it. He hated that Char had been the one to make him feel that way. He’d never expected more out of those other women because he’d known what those relationships were. They’d wanted something from him and he’d wanted something from them. All parties left satisfied. But now? He was left feeling empty, as if he’d just offered Char all of his possessions in hopes that she’d at least give him a damn hug and say “thank you” rather than run him over with the moving truck and drive off.

He hated putting her with those other women. He hated allowing her name to even be next to their names. But…

She’d ended up being just like them.

A wave of nausea overtook him as he set the phone down. With shaking hands, he ran his fingers through his hair. Char had just wanted a piece of the Jake Titus joke.

Which meant only one thing: He was getting ready to jump off the commitment cliff without a parachute.

Well, if she wanted a story, she was going to get one. No way was he going to let her blame him for losing her job.

* * *

An hour later, Char walked back into the room. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was wind-blown.

“Where’ve you been?” Jake asked. Char rolled her eyes and tried to walk back out, but Jake caught her arm and dragged her back inside. “I was worried.”

“Oh, spare me. You looked really worried in Amy’s arms.”