Take a Chance on Me (4 page)

“You should catch her in action sometime.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He flashed a brief smile and stood. “Well, much as I would like to stay, my pizza appears to be done. Thanks for inviting me to join you, Ana. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

Tom nodded at Jessica. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she said, watching him walk back to the counter, where a pizza box waited for him, steam escaping from under the edges of its cardboard top.

Ana rested her chin in the palm of her hand, gazing at Tom as he walked out of the restaurant, pizza balanced against one hip. He turned and waved briefly, then disappeared from sight.

“Yeah, I can see why you’d want to avoid him. Rude. Ugly. Total creep. I don’t know why they let him out in public.”

“I don’t know why I take
you
out in public,” Jessica retorted. “Could you have been any more obvious?”

“What? I had to go to the bathroom. Nature calls, I answer.”

“You were practically drooling on him.”

“Because you wouldn’t. Honey, he’s adorable. I think you two would be perfect for each other.”

“You don’t even know him,” Jessica protested. “Heck,
I
don’t even know him. We met today, for God’s sake. And what do you think was with that personality change at the end there?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, he was acting all nice and charming, and then he totally shut down. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”

Ana rolled her eyes. “His pizza was done and he was hungry. Not a big deal. You’re just looking for excuses.”

“Excuses for what?”

“Excuses not to go after him.”

“I will not be going after Tom Cameron. The fact remains that we work together. And trust me, he hasn’t exactly seen me at my best.”

“You just need an opportunity to show him your best side. Let me work on it.”

“No. Absolutely not. You know damn well I’m not interested in a relationship right now.”

“Who said anything about a relationship? He’s hot, Jessica. And there was a definite spark between you two. Why ignore that just because of some stupid rule you’ve set for yourself? That’s like a New Year’s resolution—meant to be broken.”

Jessica crossed her arms on the table and lowered her head onto them.

Ana reached over and patted her head. “Don’t worry about it, honey. If you like Tom—and I’ll beat you with wet noodles if you say you don’t—my advice is to go for it.”

She tugged on Jessica’s sleeve, encouraging her back up to a sitting position. “But in the meantime, you should eat pizza,” she added, as the server maneuvered their order onto the crowded tabletop.

Jessica lifted a topping-heavy slice onto her plate. Pizza, she could handle. Tom, well, that was a different story.

Tom slid the half-empty box onto the top shelf of his refrigerator. Lunch tomorrow would be better than usual, even if he did eat the leftovers cold at his desk. Cold Aphrodite’s pizza was better than hot pizza most other places.

He still wasn’t sure what had possessed him to sit down with Jessica and her friend at the restaurant. Outside work he was pretty much a loner. Hell, he was a loner at work too. Truth was, if he had seen any other staff member at Aphrodite’s, he would have ducked for cover himself.

But the sight of Jessica’s deer-in-headlights look right before she slid under the table had brought a wicked grin to his lips. To his own surprise he’d found himself accepting Ana’s invitation to join them.

It had been a great conversation too, until he found out that Ana was a reporter.

Too bad. She seemed like such a nice person.

He tossed his empty soda can in the recycle bin and wandered back out into the family room. He flipped channels for a minute or two, but nothing caught his attention. He turned off the TV and went into the bedroom, pulling his tie off as he walked.

It was always tempting fate to eat Aphrodite’s in work clothes, but he had rebelled at the thought of letting it cool any further while he changed. Now happily fed, he grabbed a pair of gray sweats and a white T-shirt out of his dresser.

The well-worn clothes slid on easily, and he could feel the tension of the day ebbing away. He wandered back into the family room and stretched out on the couch with the day’s mail.

He was separating the stack into bills and junk mail when the ringing phone broke his concentration. Glancing at the caller ID box, he grimaced and picked up the receiver.

“Hey, big sister. What’s up?”

“I hate it when you do that.” Tom could hear the smile in Janet’s voice. “You’re not psychic, so don’t even try.”

“I do have a few tricks up my sleeve though.”

“Okay, big shot, why am I calling?”

Tom pretended to ponder the question for a moment. “You think I work too hard, I need a social life, and you have just the woman for me.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“As predictable as rain in Seattle.” He shifted the phone to the other ear and tucked a throw pillow behind his head. “And so is my answer.”

She intoned dryly, “You love your job, who needs a social life, and you’re not interested in meeting anyone.”

“You got it.”

“Come on, Tom,” she wheedled. “Just dinner. Meredith’s really great. I know you’d like her. Friday night?”

“Not interested,” he said. “Thanks anyway.”

“Fine,” she grumped. “How about just dinner? No blind dates, just family togetherness.”

“Yeah, I can handle that.”

Her voice softened over the phone line. “It’s been four years.”

He gripped the phone more tightly. “Let it go, Janet.”

“Funny, isn’t that what I’ve been telling you?”

“I like my life the way it is.”

“Even though you’ll never meet someone new working at the high school.”

Too late, Tom realized that his silence had caught his sister’s attention.

“
Have
you met someone?” She paused. “Don’t hold out on me, baby brother.”

“It’s nothing,” he forced out past gritted teeth. “Nobody.”

“No way, kid. You’re not getting away with that. Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” he protested, but even as he said it he knew he was lying. He sighed and said, “There’s a new teacher hired on for the rest of the year. We had a bit of a run-in this morning, and then I saw her at the pizza place tonight. Nothing’s going on. I swear.”

“Mm-hmm.” Her skepticism was evident. “Okay. Dinner Friday, I promise no ambushes. But believe me, baby bro—you’re going to fill me in on all the details.”

Janet’s laugh was still ringing in his ears as he hung up. Filling her in on the details was what concerned him the most.

Details. He snorted. Unfortunately, details were not in short supply. Unwanted, unasked-for, Jessica’s image kept elbowing its way into his brain.

This evening’s run-in had only added more frames to his erotic slide show. At work, her business attire only hinted at her figure. The T-shirt and jeans combo she wore at the pizza place, however, had adhered to her curves like static cling. Thanks to the thin cotton of her T-shirt, he had a pretty good image of her ripe, curvy breasts, and the picture just wouldn’t go away. Even worse, he wasn’t sure that he wanted it to.

With a groan, he hauled himself off the couch and headed down the hall to the bathroom. It might be January outside, but at this moment he definitely needed a cold shower.

Steam billowed through the cozy bathroom. Hot water and rich bubbles filled the tub. Jessica stuck a toe in, then adjusted the water temperature. She glanced at the stack of play scripts balanced on the bathroom counter. It really wasn’t practical to read in the tub. What if one fell in and got ruined?

She knew she was rationalizing, but really, what did one day matter in the grand scheme of things? What she really needed to do was keep up on grading during the week, then this weekend she’d knuckle down and put the drama fiasco in working order. And right now, Tangerine Bliss was calling her name. No need to ruin a perfectly good bubble bath with work.

Jessica slipped her robe off and put it on the hook on the back of the door. She stepped into the foamy bath, wincing a little as the heat of the water bit at her toes. She adjusted to the warmth quickly and slid into the suds up to her neck. Smiling, she closed her eyes.

No, it was no good. The least little relaxation, the moment she let her guard down, and
he
tromped right through her brain.

“Go away,” she muttered. “I’m taking a bath.”

But her subconscious merely stuck its tongue out at her and provided a living-color image of Tom Cameron wearing a far-too-skimpy towel wrapped around his waist, hair damp and tousled, shoulders glistening with droplets of water. She squeezed her eyes shut again.

Nope, the picture was still there. And now one of those water drops was sliding down his chest, pausing momentarily at his navel—he was an innie, she noted, at least in her fantasy—and continuing lower until it disappeared out of sight behind the towel. Jessica sighed. Stupid towel.

More like stupid Jessica
, she thought, shaking her head. She’d never even seen the man in anything but business attire. Even at Aphrodite’s he’d been in his suit and tie, obviously picking up dinner on the way home from work. She was probably just superimposing his head on the torso of some male supermodel. Didn’t the subconscious mind like to mix and match?

Except his dress shirt seemed to fit like second skin, and she’d already determined that his slacks clung to a rear end that was prime fodder for fantasy. She had the sinking sensation that her supermodel image of him was hitting pretty close to the mark.

She sighed again and dragged herself out of the tub. A nice steamy bath was one thing, but it was starting to get a little too hot for comfort in there.

Chapter Three

The room was dark when Jessica awoke. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then squinted at the clock on the white microwave oven that dominated the tiny counter. 2:13 AM. Jessica yawned and riffled through the stack of papers on the table in front of her. She had managed to read and grade the introductory letters from students in two classes before sleep had dragged her down. Three folders were untouched.

Oh, well. It would keep her busy during prep tomorrow. Today. Whatever. As it was, she only had a few hours before she had to wake up for good.

Leaving the rickety wooden table piled high with papers and books, Jessica shuffled down the hall to her bedroom. Tugging off her robe, she dropped onto the bed. She checked her new alarm clock—purchased immediately after work—and set the alarm on her watch as a backup. Then she fell back against the pillows. Unfortunately, now that she was in bed, sleep appeared to have abandoned her. She stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. Her stomach churned as she thought back over the events of the day.

Her first day. It should have been exhilarating, wonderful, everything she had been working toward for so long. Instead, it had started out badly and gotten progressively worse.

She’d looked forward to her first day teaching for ages, since she’d had the guts to admit that was what she wanted to do with her life. She wanted the interaction with students, the give-and-take of a great discussion. She wanted to open their eyes to the wonders of literature and writing. She wanted to be on the other side of the desk. She wanted to make a difference.

Instead, she found herself increasingly frustrated by the struggle just to get the kids into their seats and facing forward.

How had Mrs. Stratman made it seem so easy?

By the end of the day, all she’d wanted to do was plop down at her desk and have a good cry. And she would have if he hadn’t shown up again.

Jessica pulled the covers up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut.

And then the whole fiasco at the pizza place. She groaned at the memory.

She’d pretty much ensured that Tom saw her as a flighty, immature annoyance. What in the world was wrong with her?

She rolled over, punching her pillow. What did she care what Tom Cameron thought about her? She and Tom Cameron were nothing more than co-workers. He certainly wouldn’t give her a second thought, and she wouldn’t waste even one more minute on him.

Not interested.

No way.

Gradually, her thoughts slowed, and sleep arrived once again. She snuggled under the covers, cozy and comforted in the nest of her bed. And if a pair of broad shoulders and a fabulous ass played a leading role in her dreams, Jessica wasn’t telling.

“You’re early.”

Jessica spun around, dropping her keys with a clatter on the hallway floor. She bent down to pick them up, fumbling with them briefly before managing to grab hold. She looked across the hall at a pair of brilliantly shiny shoes. Her heartbeat sped up—from the shock, she told herself—and she took a deep breath to calm down.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” Tom stepped forward and held out his hand to steady her as she stood.

She hesitated. Deciding it was foolish to struggle on her own, she placed her hand in his. There it was again, that jolt of—something—that she’d felt the day before. And this time, she knew he felt it too.

His fingers gripped hers tightly for just a moment before dropping her hand like it had suddenly caught on fire. Blushing, she turned back to her door, fumbling her keys in a harried attempt to unlock it.

“Here.” He plucked the key ring from her fingers, deftly inserted the correct one in the keyhole and opened it with a soft click. “These keys can be tricky.”

“Uh-huh.”
Show-off
. She held out her hand for the keys and he dropped them into her palm, then stretched out a hand and tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

“No ponytail today, I see.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the unexpected contact. “Nope.”

“Too bad. It’s a good look on you.”

“It makes me look like I’m twelve years old.”

Tom shook his head, a slight smile on his face. “Believe me, you didn’t look twelve.”

Jessica stared at him, then shook her head as if coming out of a trance. “Um, thanks. I think.”