Free Damaged In-Law by Colleen Masters Page B

Be in my movie. Avery ’ s role needs to be filled before we can start shooting, and I
want you to be the one to fill it,” Jack says again, his voice eager and
assured. “So? What do you say?”
    I don’ t say anything at all. I reach
for my replenished drink and drain half of it in one giant gulp. Jack ’ s smile wavers as I set the glass down, hard, my hands
beginning to shake.
    “OK. I ’ m not sure I understand what ’ s happening right now,” he says, lifting an eyebrow. “You were
just going on about throwing caution to the wind and all...Are you mad at me,
or—?”
    “ I don’ t even think I have a word for what I am right now,” I sputter.
    “I thought you ’ d be thrilled,” Jack
shoots back, frowning at my dismay. “I ’ m offering you the
opportunity of a lifetime, here.”
    “You ’ re offering me the opportunity of Avery ’ s lifetime,” I whisper heatedly, blinking back baffled
tears. “What, you figure you can just plug me into her place in the world?
Christ, Jack—I ’ m not even a real actress! What the hell
are you thinking with this? Were we always that interchangeable to you?”
    He stares at me like I ’ ve just spit in
his face. “Of course not,” he growls. “How could you—? Why would you—?” Never
in my life have I seen Jack at a loss for words like this. He drains the rest
of his drink, throws a fifty dollar bill onto the bar, and takes me by the
elbow. “Come on,” he says, nodding toward the exit.
    “Where is it you think we ’ re going?” I
shoot back icily.
    “Up to my room,” he informs me.
    “ I don’ t remember agreeing to that. Or
you asking, for that matter,” I reply, forcing myself to remain calm. “I ’ m not really the blindly-following type, Jack.”
    “People are starting to stare,” he says through gritted
teeth, “And I have a feeling our voices aren ’ t going to
get any quieter if we keep discussing this proposition.”
    “Maybe we should stop discussing it then,” I suggest,
shaking off his grasp.
    “That ’ s not an option,” he informs me,
crossing his thickly muscled arms. “You have to hear me out, Callie. I don ’ t care if it takes all night. Just come upstairs.”
    “ I don’ t think I ’ m comfortable —”
    “Callie,” he says, his voice hard and final. “Finish your
drink, and come up to my room with me. Now .”
    “What, no ‘please ’ ?” I ask drily.
    His blazing stare is enough of an answer. And because I ’ m already too buzzed to drive, because some masochistic part of
me really wants to hear what the hell he ’ s thinking with
all of this, because some small part of me is pretty fucking turned on by this
dominant thing he ’ s got going on right now, I knock back
my drink and rise to my feet.
    In a heartbeat, my companion becomes a different person.
Jackson smiles serenely for the whole bar to see, while I try to keep the look
of pure ire off my face. His ability to turn on the charming cool-guy act is
honestly a bit unsettling. How can I ever know he ’ s being
real with me, if it ’ s so easy for him to cover up his real
emotions? How will I ever know when I ’ m talking to the
real Jackson Cole?
    We set off toward the bank of elevators at the back of the
lobby and step inside, immediately moving to opposite corners of the car. My
whole body is trembling with barely-contained outrage and contradictory
excitement. My brain is two drinks in, more than a little foggy, and scrambling
to make sense of this twist. All told, this is not the evening I had in mind
when I set off to meet Jack in New York City.
     

 
    Chapter Seven

     
    The elevator spits us out on the top floor of The Rogue
Hotel. I have to hustle in my three-inch heels to keep up with Jack ’ s long stride as he leads me down the hallway, toward a door
marked “Penthouse”.
    Naturally .
    Jack slides in his key card and wrenches the penthouse door
wide open. He turns to me with an over-the-top sweep of his arm, making a