Claire had accepted his decision to drive her to another shop. It was clear she was way too stubborn to let him convince her of anything, including agreeing with him to let the lease remain with Parker. A minute later she proved him correct.
“Here’s what I need you to do, Mad. Can you phone Epstein please? Fill him in on what’s been going on with the lease, find out exactly where we stand, and tell him we’re willing to take whatever action is necessary to either get that property or… Uh-huh. I think we should… Look, if legal action is our only option, then that’s what we’ll do… Yeah. Of course you should talk to Julia first.”
Her conversation continued on, and Jack knew most of what she said out loud was voiced for his benefit.
Still, Jack wasn’t panicked. Yet. Probably had a lot to do with his next destination, and the fact that Miss Jones’s smoky voice was tying his balls in knots again.
Ten minutes later Jack pulled into another parking spot, this time in a trendy area, not quite so up-market as Mosman.
“Glebe?” Claire looked not the least bit impressed.
“Glebe,” he confirmed. “There’s an empty shop I want you to see.”
Sandwiched between two universities, Glebe was like a little village, crammed full of coffee shops, restaurants, vintage clothes stores and funky bookshops.
“I’m sure there is.” She nodded at his door. “So why don’t you go look at it, and I’ll wait here in your car. When you’re done, you can take me back.”
“Nope.”
“No?”
“I’m not going in there without you.”
“Then it seems we’ll both sit in the car. And if we’re both just sitting here doing nothing, you might as well drive me back to my car.”
“No, again.”
“No?”
“See, if I’m forced to sit here beside you, I won’t be doing nothing.”
“What will you be doing? Trying to convince me of the delights of Glebe?”
“No, much more simple than that.”
“What then?”
“You have two choices. Either I can sing out loud, to the radio or to a song of your choice…”
She pulled a sour face, telling him without words exactly what she thought about that option. “Or?”
“Or, regardless of your thoughts about getting to know me personally, I’m going to lean over and kiss you again. And this time I won’t stop because we’re parked on a public road.”
With a vicious growl, Claire turned up the volume.
Fortunately, Jack recognized the song playing, a Katy Perry tune, and he sang in time to it. Or tried to, anyway.
“You know you have got to stop that God-awful racket?”
He shook his head. “No can do. Until you walk into the shop with me, I’ll just sit singing my heart out.” And with that he threw said heart and soul into the song. Pity for Claire he had no idea what the words were and had to make up his own as he went along, but the originality just added more soul.
Claire turned off the radio with a harrumph .
He grinned at her, and continued singing, projecting his voice as far as he could when he reached the high notes.
For the second time that day, Claire scrambled out of the car. “How old are you anyway?” she grouched as he followed suit. “Fifteen?”
“Close. Thirty-five.”
“You act like a child.”
Jack fell into step beside her with a triumphant wink. “Then I figure I’ll be perfectly happy in your shop.”
“You’re welcome there anytime — just so long as you don’t sing. You’ll scare off my other customers.”
“You’ll love this place.”
“I’m not interested in this place.”
“I kissed a girl and I liked it.”
Claire clamped her hands over her ears.
He nudged her arm out of the way. “I did like it. Heaps.”
“The song?”
“The kiss. Both kisses.”
“You really are fifteen.”
“You really need to give this place a chance.”
And in a move he didn’t see coming, one he’d never have expected from the lovely Miss Jones, she placed her hands on her hips, glared in his direction
“Here’s what I need you to do, Mad. Can you phone Epstein please? Fill him in on what’s been going on with the lease, find out exactly where we stand, and tell him we’re willing to take whatever action is necessary to either get that property or… Uh-huh. I think we should… Look, if legal action is our only option, then that’s what we’ll do… Yeah. Of course you should talk to Julia first.”
Her conversation continued on, and Jack knew most of what she said out loud was voiced for his benefit.
Still, Jack wasn’t panicked. Yet. Probably had a lot to do with his next destination, and the fact that Miss Jones’s smoky voice was tying his balls in knots again.
Ten minutes later Jack pulled into another parking spot, this time in a trendy area, not quite so up-market as Mosman.
“Glebe?” Claire looked not the least bit impressed.
“Glebe,” he confirmed. “There’s an empty shop I want you to see.”
Sandwiched between two universities, Glebe was like a little village, crammed full of coffee shops, restaurants, vintage clothes stores and funky bookshops.
“I’m sure there is.” She nodded at his door. “So why don’t you go look at it, and I’ll wait here in your car. When you’re done, you can take me back.”
“Nope.”
“No?”
“I’m not going in there without you.”
“Then it seems we’ll both sit in the car. And if we’re both just sitting here doing nothing, you might as well drive me back to my car.”
“No, again.”
“No?”
“See, if I’m forced to sit here beside you, I won’t be doing nothing.”
“What will you be doing? Trying to convince me of the delights of Glebe?”
“No, much more simple than that.”
“What then?”
“You have two choices. Either I can sing out loud, to the radio or to a song of your choice…”
She pulled a sour face, telling him without words exactly what she thought about that option. “Or?”
“Or, regardless of your thoughts about getting to know me personally, I’m going to lean over and kiss you again. And this time I won’t stop because we’re parked on a public road.”
With a vicious growl, Claire turned up the volume.
Fortunately, Jack recognized the song playing, a Katy Perry tune, and he sang in time to it. Or tried to, anyway.
“You know you have got to stop that God-awful racket?”
He shook his head. “No can do. Until you walk into the shop with me, I’ll just sit singing my heart out.” And with that he threw said heart and soul into the song. Pity for Claire he had no idea what the words were and had to make up his own as he went along, but the originality just added more soul.
Claire turned off the radio with a harrumph .
He grinned at her, and continued singing, projecting his voice as far as he could when he reached the high notes.
For the second time that day, Claire scrambled out of the car. “How old are you anyway?” she grouched as he followed suit. “Fifteen?”
“Close. Thirty-five.”
“You act like a child.”
Jack fell into step beside her with a triumphant wink. “Then I figure I’ll be perfectly happy in your shop.”
“You’re welcome there anytime — just so long as you don’t sing. You’ll scare off my other customers.”
“You’ll love this place.”
“I’m not interested in this place.”
“I kissed a girl and I liked it.”
Claire clamped her hands over her ears.
He nudged her arm out of the way. “I did like it. Heaps.”
“The song?”
“The kiss. Both kisses.”
“You really are fifteen.”
“You really need to give this place a chance.”
And in a move he didn’t see coming, one he’d never have expected from the lovely Miss Jones, she placed her hands on her hips, glared in his direction
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