Page 9 of Making Over Maris

“Did he say why he wanted you to do this?”

Sara shrugged, suddenly feeling small. “He said he was tired of being alone.” Fuck. So was she. “I’m a terrible friend, aren’t I?”

“No. You’re not. You’re a wonderful friend.”

“I should probably help him.” If nothing else it would distract her from the wretchedness of her own pathetic love life. Or lack thereof.

“I think it would be wonderful if you helped him. I like Jack—” At Sara’s cynical glance, Kat amended her statement. “Okay. We’ve had our moments. He’s self-absorbed and inappropriate and has absolutely no emotional intelligence, but in his heart, he’s a good person. A great person. What he did for that homeless-teens’ shelter was—” She broke off with a frown.

The abrupt silence, along with Kat’s guilt-laden expression, snagged Sara’s attention. “What homeless-teens’ shelter?”

Kat nibbled on a fingernail. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“But you did.”

“It’s confidential. Jack had me do his taxes last year. I shouldn’t have said anything. Suffice to say, he was very generous.”

“To homeless teens?”

Kat nodded. “You know. Couch surfers.”

Sara shook her head.

“Kids who, for one reason or another, have no home. A lot of them had to leave because of abuse. Some were kicked out. It’s tragic. This shelter gives them a place to live while they finish school. Helps train them. Gets them jobs.” Kat leaned forward and whispered, “Where do you think all those interns come from?”

“Jack does seem to have a lot of interns.” An army of them. And all of them as socially stunted as Jack. But now, somehow, they had taken on a very different hue in Sara’s eyes.

Kat nodded. “But you didn’t hear it from me.” She pressed her lips together.

“Hear what?”

“Exactly.”

Sara hooked three paper clips into a chain but only to keep her fingers busy while she processed this new insight. She’d known Jack forever. Thought she’d known him. “I had no idea.”

“No one does.” Kat stood and headed for the door. She stopped with her hand on the knob. “Jack’s more complex than he seems, Sara. I sense he pretends to be shallow because he can’t bear being rejected for who he really is.”

Oh. God. The parallels to her own life were far too painful. Sara buried her face in her arms. “I should help him.” It was a muffled rumble but Kat heard.

“Think of it as building good karma.”

“Good karma.” Yeah. She could use some of that.

“So… Have you thought about it?” Jack could have kicked himself. He hadn’t intended to burst into her office and blurt it out like that. He’d meant to be suave and slick.

He should have known better.

He’d never been suave and slick.

No. He’d hovered in the vicinity of Sara’s office—after sending Kenny on a meaningless errand—and barged through the door and pounced upon her as soon as Kat left.

“Sit, Jack.”

He plopped into the chair and, because he didn’t know what to do with his hands, laced his fingers.

Sara studied him, dissecting him in that way she had, with her head tipped to the side, wrinkling her button nose. She was so cute when she wrinkled her nose. He forced himself not to wriggle. His cock didn’t listen. Something about her eyes, her lips, her scent, always stirred him.

He shouldn’t have this kind of reaction to her. In the office. Everywhere. But he couldn’t help it. He just did. Always.