Look At Me. Cara Lockwood
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had just handed her an eight-hundred-dollar phone. She glanced at the mobile, shocked. Who did that? Someone who owns a Maserati and a whole building.
She fetched her cracked phone from her kitchen table, and then compared it to the sleek new phone. She couldn’t believe this. Was he...for real? He didn’t even know her. She couldn’t accept a gift like this. Besides, what would his leggy, model girlfriend think? The one who showed up at his house not wearing a bra or underwear beneath that microjumper?
She glanced up at his building across the alleyway, but she couldn’t see into his window from this angle, though she saw the blinds were open and it seemed like there might be a light on, but the daylight made it hard to tell. Should she march over there and give this back to him?
Or would he get the wrong idea and think she was there to do more than watch? But maybe that was exactly what she wanted to do.
She studied the phone. She couldn’t keep it. It was too big a gift from someone she didn’t even know.
You know what he looks like naked and you know how he can satisfy a woman. And not only is he up for a booty call, but he gave you the phone to do it.
Still, she told herself, tamping down her naughty thoughts. What if she took the phone and then he expected her to...do things in return?
Then again, that didn’t sound bad. Not bad at all.
No. She had to give the phone back. She couldn’t keep such an expensive gift. Right? It was crazy, wasn’t it? Just as she debated what to do next, the new phone in her hand came to life with a standard ringtone.
What the...?
She glanced down at the phone and realized the thing was on. On and clearly activated, because a call was coming in from Jackson Drake.
Uh...should she answer? Should she ignore it? Why did the man give her a phone with his number programmed into it? No better time than now to tell him she couldn’t accept such a gift.
“Hello?” she said as she pressed the phone to her ear.
“Hey, neighbor.” Jackson’s voice was like melted chocolate. Smooth, sexy, sweet.
“Oh...uh. Hi.” When she looked at her windows, she saw the back of her own blinds. She’d drawn them after the show the night before, not trusting herself not to glance out once more. Her window was still open, though, since she didn’t want to call the AC repair person just yet—not until a few more freelance checks came in. The light in her studio apartment was dim, so she flicked on the kitchen light and went to retrieve some water from the tap.
“I see you got my gift.” His voice, warm, deep, made her own insides go gooey.
“Uh, right...about that... I mean, thank you so much. It’s so generous of you, but...I don’t think I can accept it.”
“You don’t like it?” Now Jackson sounded concerned. She almost felt he might run out and buy her a different one if she’d asked.
“No. No! I love it. I mean it’s an amazing phone.” And it was. The sound quality was so good, and the thing was so light, the screen so big, she knew from the commercials she’d seen that this was the brand-new, just out, must-have model.
“If you love it, then keep it.”
“It’s so expensive, and...I mean...”
“Chloe.” He said her name as if he owned it. The determination in his voice sparked something inside her. Want? Or maybe more primal. Need. His voice rumbled through her chest and settled in her belly. “I have many phones for the Realtors at my office, and so, seriously, I insist. Take one. Otherwise, it’ll just sit in a drawer and not get used.”
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