open palm.
“She’s upset,” Florence said while he rubbed his ear, frowning mightily. “Have some compassion.”
He mumbled what could’ve been an apology—it was kind of hard to tell when it was that quiet and grudging. But Kendall ignored him. She was too busy looking at Jackson, who was regarding her with a thunderous expression that struck her absolutely mute.
He stepped into her space, looking down at her like he was assessing her for wounds, and asked, “Who upset you? Was it one of my guys? Most of the farm hands are pretty good, but I have a few new ones I don’t know as well, and I swear to God, if any of them came in here while I was out and—”
Kendall couldn’t remember the last time anyone had gotten super angry on her behalf. It felt really good. Warm. Tingly.
Or maybe that tingly feeling was just because she was standing close enough to Jackson that she could feel the heat rolling off his skin, smell the fresh air on his clothes, and see the little specks of gold in his gray eyes. Huh. She’d never noticed those little specks before. Not in all her years of studying images of him.
And boy had she studied those images.
She shook her head. “No, none of your employees did anything to me. I was just telling Florence about everything that’s been going on in my life and I got a little emotional. It’s really no big deal.”
That seemed to pacify him somewhat, but he clearly wasn’t comfortable with the idea of a woman crying—or fresh off a crying jag—in his presence. “You’ll tell me if anyone bothers you while you’re here.”
It wasn’t a question. She would’ve bristled at the order if his intentions weren’t so obviously good. “I’ll tell you,” she agreed. “But honestly, I’ve only met Florence, and she’s all kinds of awesome.”
Florence blew Kendall a kiss as she set the last serving platter on the table, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door. After a few quick hugs, a promise that they’d talk more when she came back in a few days, and a stern warning to Ray to behave himself, Florence was gone.
Kendall sat down across from Ray, next to Jackson, to eat what smelled like the best dinner of her life. Ray reached over and poured her a big glass of wine.
She scowled at him. “Don’t think that plying me with wine will make me forgive the debt you owe me for forcing me on that tiny plane.”
Ray rolled his eyes. “My Supernatural con tickets and Dean Winchester cut-out are yours, witch. But don’t pretend like you’re unhappy to be here. You know Jack is a potential goldmine.”
He wasn’t lying. But no way was she giving up those tickets or Dean Winchester. After what Ray did to her, he was lucky she hadn’t also negotiated for his Bobby Singer Funko Pop. “Yes, but don’t you pretend that I’m not going to have to work my ass off to get him where he needs to be.”
“He’s sitting right here,” Jackson grumbled, tucking into his steak and potatoes.
Ray merely shrugged, but Kendall had the grace to feel a little ashamed of herself for treating him like a piece of meat—first for her masturbatory fantasies, then as a tool to revive her flailing career. “No disrespect intended.”
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “It’s fine. I was just teasing. I lived with Ray for eighteen years. You think I don’t know how impossible he can be?”
The warmth in his eyes when he looked at her had a paralyzing effect on Kendall. Her entire body tingled, but she couldn’t react, couldn’t look away. If she could somehow bottle this feeling and unleash it on studio executives, she could get him any movie soundtrack gig he ever wanted—even the ones the Star Wars guy was up for.
Ray snorted. “Oh, yeah. I’m impossible. Just wait until you get to know Kendall better. She made her last client cry.”
That snide comment seemed to snap her out of whatever sexy mojo Jackson had immobilized her with, and she cut her eyes to Ray. “I did not make her cry. She’s a performer. Those tears were totally fake.”
“Toe-may-to, Toe-mah-to,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Whatever. You know I don’t really care. I think it’s hilarious that you called her a twatwaffle at a press conference and the microphones picked it up.”
Next to her, Jackson choked on the sip of water he’d just taken and