My Hot New Year Read Free Page B

know..." his voice trails off.
    I hold the gaze with his dark eyes, and for a few still seconds, we just stare at each other.
    "Yes?"  I say nervously.
    He studies my face and seems like he can't decide whether to tell me his thoughts.
    "Do you really want to know?"
    "I think so..." I say impatiently.
    "Well, I was going to tell you that I can't stop thinking about our night together in the cabin and how beautiful you are."
    "You…you can't?"
    Dear God.  I MUST work on these ridiculous comebacks.  There's got to be a book I can buy that will give me some tips on what to say when a man says these kinds of things.
    "No, Jillian, I can't.  But, I think it might help if I had a refresher."
    A refresher?  He wants to have sex with me AGAIN?  Okay.  This day is just TOO much for me to handle.
    I stare at him for a few seconds and then look down at my scuffed black heels, clenching my sweaty hands tightly inside my pockets.  What do I say?  I can't quite believe that this wealthy, brilliant, gorgeous man just told me that he wants to have sex and I haven't jumped him yet.
    "Well, you do realize that I'm moving to New York City...now."  I pause and look down again.  "Don't you live in Oyster Cove?  I assume you're only here in Boston for this announcement, right?"
    "That's true."
    "I see."  I fidget my fingers and feel blood rushing to my cheeks.
    He's going to break my heart.  He wants to have his way with me again and leave me like the long line of other women he must have been with.  Maybe just one more night? No!  Absolutely not!  If I do this I will be even MORE screwed up than I already am.
    "I'm sure another night wouldn't hurt..."
    WTF...Did I REALLY just speak those words?  What on God's green earth is WRONG with me?  Oh, it's just that this man is so perfect.  His hands knew ALL THE RIGHT PLACES…
    "I'm glad you agree.  So, tonight then?  What time could you drop by my hotel?" he asks.
    "Anytime you'd like..." I feel the corners of my lips lifting toward a smile.
    NO SMILING!  What are you DOING?
    "Great," says Jake calmly and looks back at me.  "I'll text you my room number.  See you tonight."
    And with that, he walks away.  Everything begins spinning, and all I can think about is peeling off his clothes and pressing my…
    Mom!  Oh My God, Mom!  What excuse am I going to give her to get out of the house?
     
     

 
     
    Chapter 2: Reality  
     
     
    When I turn up at my cubicle, I can't help but feel as if I was just hit by a Mack truck and crushed to a pulp.  I quickly close my eyes and start taking note of all the things that have changed in the last two hours.  There was the meeting with Jim.  Oh yeah, I have to go back in and talk with him.  Then, there was the lovely vision of Scott beaming with pride over his latest acquisition.  Last but not least, not least, there was my meeting with Jake, which I must admit is the best of the three crisis moments this day presented.
    How am I going to be calm enough to see him tonight?  Meeting in his hotel room?  I'm a soccer mom, who is still long overdue for new lingerie and a good waxing.  It would take a lot more than the snap of the fingers for me to transform into the woman that Jake deserves.  What does he see in ME?  How am I going to meet him with my MOTHER in town?  I open my eyes and reach for the phone.  As my fingers hit the numbers, I remember I have to tell Mom about New York City, too.  This should be interesting.
    When Mom answers, I can't say that she seems shocked at my call.
    "Hello, Honey.  I'm on my way.  Do you need me to help carry your boxes?  You aren't crying, are you?"
    "No, Mom, I'm NOT crying!"  I exclaim sharply.  "I didn't get fired."
    "You didn't?  Oh good!" she says with a sigh of relief.  "I never said you would,” she hesitates.  "I just wanted to offer you my support."
    My parents watch too much daytime TV and right-wing political talk show hosts.  You know those hosts, the types that make