Irresistible You (42 page)

“Hello J.T.”

“Juliet,” he said then paused and glanced behind her through the foyer. “May I come in?”

“Now really isn’t a good time.”

“We need to talk,” he said stepping closer.

“About what, there’s really nothing left to say.”

“Our deal isn’t quite over yet.”

“It is for me, you made your point very clear and I agree. I think it’s best if we just go our separate ways.”

“You can’t do that anymore than I can.”

“Watch me,” she said.

“Ten minutes,” he requested.

She inhaled deeply. This was getting her nowhere. She needed to purge him from her system once and for all. “Fine, ten minutes.” She stepped aside and let him pass and closed the door behind him.

J.T. walked into the bare living room and noticed that an extra wide lounge chair sat in the middle of the living room floor. He turned to her see her leaning against the barre on the opposite wall. She decided to ignore his questioning expression. He opened his mouth to speak but the doorbell took both their attention.

Juliet turned startled by the sudden distraction. She gingerly walked over to open the door then heard keys in the lock. Expecting to see her friend Patricia, Randolph walked in. “Hey, are you okay?” He hugged her while looking down the length of her body. “Sorry I didn’t get here sooner, I was in California in meetings all day and just heard. Why are you standing?”

“I’m fine, really,” she said then turned to J.T., who stood staring. “You remember J.T. Evans.”

“Yes, of course.” Randolph walked to J.T. and they shook hands. They both turned to Juliet who had resumed her previous position of leaning back against the barre again.

“Thanks for the chair, it just arrived.”

“Good, don’t you need to get off your feet?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said brushing his suggestion aside.

J.T. noted Randolph’s concern. “Why does Juliet need to get off her feet,” he asked Randolph knowing Juliet wouldn’t tell him.”

Confused, Randolph turned to Juliet then back to J.T.. “Juliet fell in rehearsal yesterday and was taken to the ER.”

J.T.’s eyes widened half in concern and half in anger for not being told.

“It was minor,” she assured them.

“How minor?” J.T. asked.

“The doctor said it was just a sprain with some partially extended ligaments. It’s not a debilitating injury. It happens all the time to dancers.”

“But not to you,” J.T. offered.

“No, not to me.”

“What exactly did the doctor suggest?” Randolph asked.

“Restrict my movements for a bit and I should be good as new.”

“What else?” J.T. asked.

“That’s it. It’s just a simple sprain.”

“You’re a dancer. I’m sure that there’s more to it than just a simple sprain,” J.T. said.

“What do you mean?” Randolph asked.

“Bone is connected to bone by ligaments. When an injury occurs to the ligament, either a pull or a tear, then you have a sprain. A sprain, according to its severity, came be as damaging and as painful as a broken bone.”

“It’s a second degree sprain. It’s not that bad.”

“What does she need to do,” Randolph turned to ask J.T..

“Nothing,” Juliet insisted.

“How about complete immobilization, elevating the injured foot, ice cold compresses and keeping it wrapped tightly to reduce additional swelling.”

Both Juliet and Randolph looked at J.T. after he finished. “Dabbling in the medical profession are we?” she said sarcastically.

“My sister fell into an open tomb in South American once. I remember what she went through with the bruising and swelling. It was extremely painful.”

“Do you have pain medication?” Randolph asked.

“I had a prescription, but…”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t need it and I’m not taking any painkillers. I’m fine.”

“Juliet,” Randolph warned as only a big brother could.

“I’m getting tired. If you two will excuse me, I’m sure you can see your way out.” She grabbed her crutches from behind the door and walked to the stairs.

The two men watched as she easily maneuvered herself up the staircase. When they heard the bedroom door close they eyed each other suspiciously.

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” Randolph asked.

“Not really.”

“Oh, but I insist.”

J.T. chuckled. “Somehow discussing our relationship with her new boyfriend is a bit more than I care to do at the moment.” He walked to the front door and opened it to leave.

“You and I need to talk J.T..” Randolph followed, closing and locking the front door behind himself.

“I have to get back to the office.”

“Now,” Randolph demanded.

“Some other time,” J.T. said as he continued to walk down the street to his car. Randolph watched and shook his head. His sister and J.T. were making a huge mistake, and apparently it was up to him to rectify the matter.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The following morning, after a sleepless night, J.T. entered his office and went directly to his desk. He sat down and turned on the computer. The screens came to life. Just as he was about to begin entering data his secretary interrupted. She peek her head into his office.

“Excuse me, there’s a Senator Randolph Kingsley in the outer office asking to speak with you.”

J.T. went still, stunned by the absurdity. Apparently the good senator didn’t understand the subtle hint of mind your own business. “Send him in.”

Randolph marched in seconds later. “I’m not a man who’s used to being dismissed. I didn’t get where I am by taking no for an answer.”

“Obviously, but I think you should be speaking to Juliet.”

“I will, in time. But it’s you I’d like to speak with first.”

J.T. motioned for Randolph to take a seat as he returned to his chair behind the desk. He pushed a button on the keyboard and the screens went black. He keyed in a few more buttons and the four screens lowered into his desk.

“Impressive,” Randolph remarked at the innovation.

“Saves time in the long run and my time is valuable.” J.T. prompted Randolph to get to the point.

“My sentiments exactly, so I’ll get right to the point. Juliet is a grown woman and I seldom find myself intruding in her affairs, so to speak. But it seems I have no choice in the matter. She told me about your little arrangement, or deal or whatever.”

“Really,” he said surprised that she’d reveal that to her current lover. “Did she also inform you that our arrangement was over?”

“No, although I presume that it’s a more recent occurrence,” Randolph said. J.T. nodded. “In that case, since you obviously intend on spending more time with her, I’d like to know what your intentions towards Juliet are.”

“There are none.”

“I find that hard to believe particularly since you were just at her home last night.”

“I needed to speak with her,” J.T. said.

“About what may I ask?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“I beg to differ. What concerns Juliet concerns me.”

“Enough.”

“Excuse me?” Randolph questioned.

“I said enough. This little senate interrogation is over. You need to go run the country and I need to run this business. As far as I’m concerned you and Juliet are perfect together, You’re both…”

“…Careful,” Randolph warned.

“…Impossible,” he continued. “With that said if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Randolph stood accepting his dismissal knowing that J.T. would eventually listen. “I have a feeling that this isn’t over J.T.. Juliet’s happiness is my concern and she’s obviously not happy about something. And I think that something concerns you. In a career of more than fifteen years she’s never been distracted or injured on stage. And now you enter the picture three weeks from her finale and she’s injured. I find that very curious.”

“Not at all, I’m sure Juliet’s injury had nothing to do with me. You on the other hand…”

“…Am not as ambiguous as you seem to think.”

“As I said earlier, you need to speak to Juliet.”

“I intend to,” he said walking to the office door. “But for the time being, I suggest you stay away from my sister.” He closed the door soundly behind him.

It took all of a fraction of a second for J.T. to process what he had just heard and another fraction to reach the office door. He bolted outside surprising both his secretary who was speaking on the phone and his father who was about to knock on his door. Randolph continued walking toward the bank of elevators.

“Senator,” J.T. called out. Randolph paused and turned smiling inwardly. Then J.T. looked to his father. “Dad, can I get back to you in about half an hour?”

Jace nodded agreeably noting the senator’s smug expression then walked back toward his office. “Senator,” J.T. called out again. “If I may speak with you again,” he offered motioning to his office and the open door.

Randolph glanced around seeing that all eyes were on him. He nodded graciously, “Of course.”

Both men walked back into the office. As soon as J.T. closed the door behind him he began. “Your sister?”

Randolph smiled smugly. “I thought that might get your attention.

“Fine, you’ve got it. Now explain it,” J.T. said as he walked to his desk.

Randolph remained at the door. “Actually your assessment of my time was quite accurate. I do have a country to run. I suggest you discuss whatever you need to discuss with Juliet. But make no mistake, if you hurt her again, I will personally see to it that you, this company, your entire family and you pet dog are audited for the rest of your natural life. And then I’ll get angry.” Making his point extremely clear, he opened the door and left. J.T. stood and watched Randolph leave a second time. He felt as if he’d just been sucker punched. “Sister.”

A million and one thoughts raced through his mind. Juliet knew exactly what he thought when he witnessed them together at the political fundraiser, and she never said a word to clarify the misunderstanding. She just let him believe that she and Randolph were together as he stood there looking like a jealous teenager.

Of course, now it all made sense. Juliet was Kingsley’s date just like he had sometimes used either Madison or Kennedy as his last minute fill in. Sisters were the perfect bailouts.

J.T. smiled knowingly, she does love him. Why else would she go through so much trouble to make sure he had the wrong impression and to get rid of him? But why? She knew that the feeling of love was mutual. Why run away from love?

He needed answers now.

Interstate ninety-five was a blur and the speed limit meant nothing to him, and he arrived in Old Town Alexandria in record time. He parked right in front of her house, slammed open her iron gate and stomped up to her front door.