Page 9 of Love Out Loud

Chapter Four

Jake knew the bet was a bad idea the second the word left his mouth. How on earth did she plan to assess the outcome of such a thing? He couldn’t help himself, though. Something about her snagged him in like a lure.

Her smile was genuine and made him want to smile back as she sat down next to him again. “Deal,” she said, glancing at him briefly. “And I can prove you wrong in one day. Tomorrow. If you prove me wrong, I’ll come to a group meeting. If I prove you wrong, you drop the fee.”

“That’s a huge disparity in winnings. Besides, even though there is zero chance you could win, I can’t do that,” he said.

“Scared of being proven wrong?” There was a teasing dare to her tone.

“No. Scared of being fired. I work for Upward Media. I don’t run it. A client can fire me at any time, but I’d need a compelling reason to drop an assignment, and a bet to prove me wrong isn’t compelling.” But her smile certainly was. He found himself unconsciously leaning closer to her, and he could smell her shampoo. Like peaches. He took a deep breath through his nose, and his mouth watered.What the fuck? No. Absolutely not. Focus.He leaned back in his chair, giving himself an internal shake.

“Okay, then,” she said. “If you win, I’ll go to a group session. If I win, I don’t, and you have to admit you were wrong.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, control back in place. She was a client. An important one. “I truly believe that group work will help significantly with your problem.”

“As for problems,” she said, pushing to her feet, “mine doesn’t hold a candle to yours.”

“What problem?” Other than a pain-in-the-ass extra client with a little too much appeal, two hellhounds, and no doubt a dozen cats, in addition to a dick-shaped squeaky toy.

Crossing her arms, she stared down at where he sat in the chair, gaze on his collar rather than meeting his eyes. “Go ahead and be a judgmental know-it-all, butmyproblem only affects me occasionally,” she continued. “Like when I have to give a speech or interact in a forced or unexpected situation.Yourproblem affects you every time you leave your apartment.”

He had no idea what in the hell she was talking about. His breath caught as she met his gaze for a brief moment with a fierceness he’d not imagined she had. Everything in him hummed to life, from the professional coach to the man underneath. Nowthis, he could work with. This he could do a lot of things with.No, he reminded himself.Client. Full stop no.

Chin high, she met his gaze again. “In fact, I feel sorry for you.”

Okay, now this entire conversation had degenerated into the realm of the ridiculous. He draped his arms over the chairs on either side of him and tried to appear relaxed—something he’d mastered. She felt sorry for him? He was one of the most successful, sought-after, and highest-paid public speaking coaches in Manhattan. Nobody felt sorry for him—well, except maybe himself right now, because he couldn’t think of a single clever retort. He could only stare at her pretty, makeup-free face and tangled, damp hair and marvel. He was completely and totally screwed. He hadn’t been struck like this since—

“Is the cell number listed on your card good?” she asked, looking past him to the idiotic posters on the wall.

—since Charise. “Yes.”

Glancing at him briefly, then looking away, she said, “Are you free tomorrow morning?”

Her directness surprised him, but at this point, he was pretty sure Dr. Fiona Nichol was full of surprises. “My first appointment tomorrow is at three in the afternoon.”

“Great.” She strode to the door, a sly smile still lighting her face. “I’ll text you with the details tonight.”

And without a second glance, she left, closing the door behind her, leaving him utterly confused and, for the first time in a long time, at a complete and total loss for words.

Jake went straight home from the office, intending to work on the magazine article that was due way too soon. Once there, he found it hard to focus on anything other than Dr. Fiona Nichol—her sexy smile, understated sense of humor, and quick temper.

Abandoning the article, he shoved his laptop back into his briefcase, then flopped down onto his soft leather sofa and picked up the TV remote. His best friend, Marcus, was heading over to watch the Yankees game, which was good, since he wasn’t up to much else. He couldn’t get his new client out of his mind.

He had no idea what he’d expected from Fiona, but she’d surprised him. He’d known she was a doctor of some kind because of the lab coat he’d seen her wearing on the mornings when they’d gotten to the lobby at the same time. She’d never said a word to him, but he’d seen her check him out. Since he’d only gotten fleeting glances from her, he’d thought she was stuck-up or something. Surprise, surprise; she was shy, not stuck-up.

He could help her with the award acceptance speech. He just knew it. One of the local news anchors he worked with was a hardcore introvert and had become a lot more comfortable with himself after several months of working together. It would be difficult, but Jake loved a challenge.

He also loved brunette hair.

And brown eyes.

And smart women like Dr. Fiona Nichol.

Client, he reminded himself again. With aclick, he hit the power button and scrolled through his saved programs, then selected last night’s baseball game and hit play, muting the pregame talking heads.

Hopefully, he hadn’t bitten off more than he could chew this time. Being funny and challenging him to a bet was different than giving a speech. He wondered what she had in mind to prove him wrong. Hell, he didn’t even know what she thought his “problem” was, and that really bugged the shit out of him. He looked forward to her text.

Ifshe texted.

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