Dad rose up and shook Jacob's hand and waited while Mom gave Jacob another squeeze. She leaned down to my cheek and whispered, "Talk to him" before they hustled toward the exit.
‘Talk to him’? My date who'd gone from charismatic to quiet as the grave over some silly crush I had on Cade? I honestly didn't even know where to begin.
The waiter came back with Jacob's black visa card and he slipped it onto his money clip. I shook every drop of alcohol I could from my glass and still came up wanting. There would be no dulling the nerves that had taken up residence in the pit of my stomach.
"So are we going to talk about this?" I said finally, breaking the silence.
"Talk about what?" He chewed every word and spit them out, refuting the nonchalant question.
"About Cade." When he tensed, I added, "Mr. Wallace."
"So now you want to talk about your attraction to him?" Jacob said heatedly. "When I've already agreed to represent him?"
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. "You're saying that if you knew that I had some stupid crush on him forever ago that you wouldn't have brought him on as a client?"
His silence was all the reply I needed.
I couldn't help but laugh at that. Jacob freaking Whitmore was saying that he'd stonewall Cade Wallace, hell, any man that I dared to have a crush on. It was mind boggling. How did I become this person, this woman worth burning bridges and cutting ties? Me, just a regular girl from Douglas Heights, making the sexiest man I'd ever met jealous to the point where professionalism was irrelevant? He couldn't be serious!
The sound of his chair scraping backward cut through my laughter. "I'm glad you find all of this amusing."
"Jacob-"
"We're leaving." And with that he raged toward the exit like a bull with red in his sights. As much as I was dreading sliding into his two seater with me, him, and his stubbornness, I was dreading a ride home in a taxi more. If we were trying for a relationship and my feelings for Cade hurt him, I had to figure out a way to talk about it and make it right.
I hustled behind him, trying to grip his elbow but he wrenched from my touch.
"I want to talk, Jacob."
He stopped, but he didn't turn around. "I need to cool off first, Leila. Anything I say now would only make things worse."
"You won't even look at me,” I said, my voice rising. “How could it get any worse than that?" I knew we were putting on a show that would have put my mother's water debacle to shame, but I didn't care. I was trying to talk and be understanding and he was turning me into the villain. "I just don't get what the big deal is."
"I'm not going to do this here." He burst through the door and I had tunnel vision, my anger causing me to completely miss the people camped out in front of the restaurant.
"Stop walking away from me!" I said shrilly as I followed him outside and came face to face with the paparazzi. They gobbled up my plea and worked themselves into a frenzy as they snapped pictures left and right.
I futilely held my clutch as a shield, trying to hide from the flashes as the valet helped me into the car but their questions had already hit their mark.
"What were you two arguing about Leila?"
"Is there trouble in paradise?"
Jacob barely let the valet close my door before he stepped on the gas and the car swung into traffic. He snapped on the radio before switching gears, darting and weaving in between cars like some daredevil Nascar driver. It was clear the last thing on earth he wanted to do was talk, and his anger over an innocent crush made me want to talk even more.
I powered off the radio. "We need to talk."
I expected more fight, but he conceded. "Fine."
I tried to explain it the best way I could. "I like over the top, insane action movies. And once upon a time, that was Cade Wallace's MO." I swallowed. "So I was a fan. Am a fan."
"Just a fan, huh?"
"Okay so I would have given the president of his fan club a run for her money," I said with exasperation. "But it was just a simple, silly celebrity crush. I never thought I'd ever meet him. And even if I did, I so wouldn't even make his radar."
"Oh but you did, love." I didn't think it was possible for that word to come out of his mouth and make me feel anything but warmth and safety. Instead, I felt an icy slash of fear, only magnified when I saw the white of Jacob’s knuckles as he gripped the gear shift.
"Jacob, I have no idea what you're talking about. We talked for ten damn minutes, we weren't planning some super-secret getaway!"
When all I got was silence, I'd had it. If he wanted to be angry, fine. I wasn't going to die in a mangled sports car to prove I was a good girlfriend. "If you don't want to talk, fine. Pull to the curb and let me out." When he didn't even flinch, I put all of my frustration behind the order. "LET ME OUT!"
He slowed down, but gave no indication that he planned on pulling over, so I decided to wait for the next stoplight. Too bad the paps weren't hot on our tail, or they'd get a hell of a shot of me sprinting from Jacob's Porsche.
"He tweeted something yesterday that stuck with me, even though I planned to have him delete it. It had a romantic feel to it and completely contradicts the bad ass image we're trying to portray for the film."
I clicked my seatbelt back on, abandoning my plans for escaping. "What does his Twitter feed have to do with-"
"Let me finish," Jacob interrupted forcefully, but without the anger he'd been holding onto since dinner. It was like he'd been clutching this burden and was just exhausted and eager to let it all go.
He glanced at me, his eyes softened. "Please."
I gave him a long look and nodded. "Alright."
"The tweet said something like, 'met someone and felt like cade for the first time in a long time' and when I read it, I saw your face." He inhaled deep and released it. "Before I met you, there was always this hole, this missing piece. And then there was you."
Warmth rushed all over me, the ache in my chest whenever he was near expanding.
"That's sweet, Jacob." I cautioned a smile and the side of his mouth twitched with his own as we moved closer to uptown. "But why would that piss you off? Because of damage control? I still don't get what any of that has to do with me."
"Because he tweeted it almost immediately after he left the Whitmore and Creighton building." Jacob's voice changed, something in it exposed and raw. "I think he was talking about you."