Read The Shoes Come First: A Jennifer Cloud Novel Page 16

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  I woke up the next morning in a tangle of sheets and nothing else. I could hear noise in the kitchen, and the smell of coffee floated into the room. Jake walked in right behind it. He was showered and fully dressed in a suit and tie.

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” he said.

  Jake had lost the Zac Efron hairstyle and boyish face of high school. What stood before me was lean and sexy, a combination of Brad Pitt and Ryan Seacrest. His hair was shorter and stood up in spiky peaks in front.

  “Did I miss church?” I asked from under my sheet shield.

  “Funny,” he said. “I have an early flight.”

  “Jake!” I shot up, forgetting about my lack of clothes. The sheet dropped, and my girls spilled out, exposing me to the handsome CIA agent.

  “Damn, Jen, why did you do that? Now I’m gonna have to go take another shower, a cold one.” He laughed as I pulled the sheet back up over my chest.

  Jake came and sat on the bed next to me. “As much as I would like to stay, my flight leaves in two hours, and if I’m not on that plane, I’m pretty sure my new position will belong to someone else.”

  “Jake, when will you be back?”

  “Don’t know. I’m not sure what kind of contact I can make once I am there.

  “No phones, not even your cell?” I asked, frowning. “Are you going to Antarctica? Wait, I think they even have cell; I’ll check my coverage.”

  “I’ll know more once I’m there. I’ll e-mail if I can, I promise.” He leaned in and kissed me for a long while.

  “I’ve really got to go. Do you still have your key?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I pouted.

  “OK, there’s coffee in the kitchen. You’re on your own for food. I’ll see you soon. Bye, Jen.” And he was gone.

  I stretched out like a cat, satisfied from a night of glorious sex but slightly depressed there would not be any more of that for a while. I managed to get up and take a shower. Jake was gone, and I had to face a new job and a crazy new roommate.

  I came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around me and one turbaned up in my hair. Jake’s shirt from the night before was lying on the chair. I put it on and smelled his cologne, which immediately made me feel a little better. I strolled into the kitchen and replenished my coffee. I stripped the bed and put on new sheets, because I felt Jake’s cleaning lady shouldn’t have to change the sex sheets. Another area Jake and I disagreed. As I was making up the bed, the phone rang. I heard the answering machine pick up, and Jake’s voice let the caller know he was not in.

  I smiled; even the voice on his answering machine was that slow, warm Texas drawl. I could picture his dimples winking in and out as he said the words. The machine beeped, and I heard a giggle.

  “Hey, Jakee, it’s me, Bambi. Sorry we couldn’t get together last night, but I thought maybe we could catch a quickie before you fly off to work. Love ya, call me.”

  Oosh! My blood was boiling. I knew Jake and I weren’t exclusive, but jeez, Bambi? What kind of bimbo name was that? I dressed quickly, crumpled Jake’s shirt into a ball, and threw it on the freshly made bed. Grabbing my red Prada bag, I stomped out past the guard in the foyer. It wasn’t until I reached my car that I realized my hair was still wrapped in a turban on top of my head. Dang.