When she stood up, she realized someone had joined her.

“Hello,” the sharply dressed man said to her once their eyes met. He was tall, about Jack’s height, slender, almost too much so. He had long fingers that looked as if he played the piano.

“Hi,” she managed.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.” His easy smile was nice, but brief.

“No, just getting some fresh air.”

“I’m Brad,” he said, extending his hand.

“Jessie.” She allowed him to shake her hand. He let go quickly.

“It is a bit stuffy in there. Are you out here waiting for someone?”

Testing the waters, Jessie thought, and flirting with her, if she wasn’t too far out of the game to notice. His hair was darker than Jack’s, but not in a bad way. He definitely wasn’t from Texas; not a single twang to his voice.

“No, not really.” Even saying that felt strange, like maybe she should say she knew one of the servers. Then again, she was there to meet someone. Hadn’t Jack invited her to do just that?

“Good, then maybe you won’t mind if I join you.”

Did she want that? Brad wasn’t unappealing, but there wasn’t much about him that screamed attraction. When he smiled, the spark didn’t reach his eyes, not the way Jack’s eyes danced when he laughed.

She really needed to stop comparing the man to Jack. Jack was the waiter; this man was a guest. Still, her concern that Jack could round the corner and catch her talking to this guy made her feel wrong somehow. It shouldn’t, she realized, but it did. Bad form to be wearing a dress one man picked out for her while another man was flirting with her.

“I’m actually about to leave, but it’s been nice meeting you.”

A flash of disappointment spread over Brad’s face. “Are you just saying that, or do you mean that?” he asked.

“I mean it. It’s late, and my…my sitter needs to get home.” OK, that was a crock. Monica didn’t need to go anywhere. Jessie had learned early on that talking about her sitter was a good way of telling a prospective date that she was a mother without the awkward Do you want to date a single mom conversation.

Brad glanced at her left hand.

“I’m not married,” she informed him, saving him the trouble of asking.

He smiled again. No dimples, no spark to his brown eyes. At least she thought they were brown. It was hard to tell with the dim lighting.

“How old are your children?”

OK, he didn’t run screaming. Not a bad sign.

“Child. I have a son. He’s five.”

Brad lifted his chin. “I’ll bet he’s adorable, just like his mother.”

Hookay, time to go. “Thanks, he’s the best.” She scooted away, but only a couple of steps. She peeked over her shoulder, sure someone was watching her.

“Would you mind if I called you, Jessie? Maybe grab a cup of coffee or something?”

Jessie had to stop herself from saying no. Why? she asked herself.

Jack.

Dammit.

“That might be nice,” she found herself saying. “I like coffee.”

He pulled out a pen from the inside of his suit pocket and a card. “I’m going out of town this week, but I’ll be back the beginning of next.”

Jessie rambled off her number, which Brad happily wrote down.

“I really should go.”

He lifted his eyebrows and said, “I’ll see you later, then.”

“OK, bye.”

Jessie pulled her wrap close and fought a chill as she stepped back into the busy ballroom. She walked about three yards before she noticed Jack’s eyes on her. He glanced behind her, to the open patio doors, then back her way. Jessie had to force herself not to look behind her to see if Brad had walked in the room. She felt guilty as it was, which was stupid. She shouldn’t feel bad at all.

She made her way to Jack’s side, forcing a calm smile on her face.

“There you are,” he said when she was within earshot.

“I needed to escape the cougar-lady after you left.”

Jack was still watching the doorway.

Jessie shifted on her feet. “Um, Jack, I think I should work my way home.” It was nearly midnight, and some of the guests had started to leave.

Something shifted in Jack’s gaze.

Jessie turned toward the patio doors and noticed Brad watching the two of them. He nodded his head to her before turning to talk to one of the guests.

“Who’s that?” Jack asked.

“Some guy.”

“Some guy?”

“Yeah, we met outside. He said his name was Brad. Do you know him?”

Jack shook his head; all the while, he followed Brad’s movements. “No, can’t say as I do.”

“He seemed nice enough.” Because not telling him was eating her up inside, she blurted out, “He asked me for my number.”

When Jack’s head spun to her, she swallowed hard. Jack pissed wasn’t a happy look. The sparkle she liked to see in his eyes when he smiled took on a whole new level when he was ticked. “Come on, Jack, you know I’m here to meet someone.”

“Someone I know that will do good by you. That guy—”

“Brad.”

“Brad, what kind of name is Brad? He looks like a lawyer.”

Jessie was sure Jack meant that as an insult, but a lawyer spelled stability to her. “Brad is a perfectly normal name and I don’t know what he does for a living.”