Scandalous Read Online Free

pulse ratcheted up a few more notches. I was nervous before, but Jack made me a million times worse. A swarm of butterflies erupted in my stomach, rendering me speechless and stealing my brains. Butterfly bastards.
    Jack’s soft blue eyes slid over my face, surprised. “Long time, Abby.” His lips were set into a thin line, his jaw tight. The tension in his shoulders said he wasn’t happy to see me. Pushing himself off the door, he strolled across the room. A pair of Chuck’s, covered in paint, adorned on his feet. My heart jumped into my throat. Jack didn’t look the way I remembered him, he looked better. It was like my mind had downplayed his looks to trick me into thinking I made him up. Voice still stolen by winged creatures wisping through my insides, I remained silent, with my eyes way too big for my body.
    Dark hair hung in his eyes as he looked down at my information. He pointed to something that Gus had written. “This is interesting.”
    Gus responded, “Would you like to take over, boss?” The way he addressed Jack surprised me. By comparison, it looked like Jack should be Gus’ assistant or office boy. He was dressed so casually while Gus was dressed like a businessman, suit and all.
    My eyebrows shot up on my face, my hands clutched tightly in my lap, “Boss?” Oh, there’s my voice. Think, Abby, think! Jack’s the boss. What does that mean for me? The fat walrus in my brain said it meant I was screwed. Damn it!
    Gus nodded, glancing up at Jack, then back at me. “Miss Tyndale, this is Jonathan Gray. He’s the artist and the owner.”
    My face felt hot. “Oh, I didn’t realize...” Of course not. Why would I realize Jack was the owner? I couldn’t fathom why or how that was possible until Gus added, “Jonathan Gray is his penname, a pseudonym. Few people still know him as Jack Gray. As he became more successful his name became problematic—Jack Gray sounds like vodka, not an ambitious painter.” Gus crinkled his nose and I was guessing he preferred a bottle of wine to a bottle of Jack. I stared, shocked, as he spoke. If the sign had said Jack Gray, I would have never opened the door. Oh, holy hell. Now what? I wanted the job, but I wanted to get out of there too. My face felt hot. Think Abby, think!
    Jack sat down across from me, his perfect body settling into the leather chair, his eyes locking with mine. “What brings you back to New York, Abby?” We’d been friends, once. But I left, and hadn’t spoken to him since. Actually, he was part of the reason I ran and didn’t look back. Nerves caught up with me and I realized that I was gripping my hands so hard they’d gone numb. Releasing them, I decided to be frank. The job would still fix things, and I still wanted it, even if it meant dealing with Jack.
    “I need a job, Jack. Someone told me to try here, so I’m here.” It took every ounce of control I had to maintain the lock on his eyes. I wanted to look away. There was something about him—there always was—it was like he could see straight through me.
    Jack leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his dark hair. He let out a breath and sat up straight, pulling my papers in front of him on the table. As he read, he touched his fingers to his lips, “You may have a knack for dealing with people, Abby, but this job requires sales skills that you don’t have.” Still watching me, he said, “I’ll give you the job right now, if you can tell me how to sell a patron a 2.3 million dollar painting. It’s the least expensive in my collection.”
    Someone must have sucked all the air out of the room, because I couldn’t breathe, “Million?” I knew I shouldn’t have asked, but I had to. This was Jack, for godsakes ! The boy that dabbled in paint. But he was more now. A famous artist I didn’t know. And the reason that I didn’t know was because I didn’t talk to anyone we went to school with. I didn’t go to our high school reunions. I didn’t do Facebook or