by Tawna Fenske
A few folks nodded, several looking decidedly less bored or hostile than they had at the start of the session.
“What I’m hoping right now is that you’re all taking a moment to reflect on the idea that each person in this room has a valid reason for wanting things the way he or she wants them,” Adam said, letting his gaze travel from one team member to the next as he held eye contact for at least three seconds. “Obviously we can’t all have things precisely the way we like in every situation, but we need to keep in mind that everyone’s opinion has merit and value.”
He let his words hang there in the air for a moment as he continued making eye contact with everyone. The CEO looked thoughtful, which Adam hoped was a good sign. Mia looked amused, and maybe a little bewildered. Adam wondered what that was about, but didn’t dwell on it as he shifted his gaze to Jenna.
When his eyes found hers, Adam felt his pulse kick up. He fought the urge to look away, letting himself linger for a few beats while the room buzzed around him and everything else melted away. His heart was pounding, and he felt certain everyone could see his palms growing damp, hear his pulse thrumming in his head. He watched Jenna’s chest rise as she took a steadying breath. She held his eyes, not looking away, not even blinking.
At last, Adam shook off the trance. He let his gaze slide to the CFO, then the board president, and all the rest of the faces that watched him with rapt attention. Not one of them gave an indication of having noticed his connection with Jenna. Had he imagined the intensity of it, or just the duration?
You didn’t imagine a damn thing.
“Okay, then,” Adam said, as his heart rate slid back to normal. “Let’s get started on the first discussion item on the agenda.”
He grabbed a stack of folders from behind the podium and began to pass them out, significantly less excited to talk about wage caps than toilet paper. His hand brushed Jenna’s as he handed her a packet, and he watched a flush spread over her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“My pleasure,” he said, wishing that were true in every sense of the phrase.
Jenna walked out of the conference room with Mia at her side, conscious of Adam’s eyes on her. She dared a glance at him, hoping that was the right thing to do to maintain the pretense of being platonic colleagues unacquainted with each other’s genitals.
A smile played at the edges of his mouth, and he gave her a nod of acknowledgment before turning his attention to the CEO. Mia was talking to someone else now, so Jenna seized the opportunity to stare openly at Adam for a few more seconds. His expression was engaged and lively, and his hair was endearingly rumpled. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves, and Jenna felt the heat creep into her cheeks again at the sight of his bare arms.
She remembered those forearms anchored on either side of her shoulders, the weight of his body pinning her to the bed as he held her eyes with his.
“So you’re still coming over after work?”
Jenna blinked and turned her attention back to Mia. “Absolutely.”
“I’m so glad,” Mia said, stopping outside the conference room door to lean against the wall. “I’m dying for a girls’ night in.” She smoothed a hand over her belly and closed her eyes for a moment, looking more tired than Jenna had seen her in weeks.
“You sure you’re up for company?”
“Definitely.” Mia opened her eyes again and smiled. “I’ve been looking forward to it all weekend.”
“What can I bring?”
“I have everything for nachos, and I’ll pick up some margarita mix on the way home. Virgin for me, of course, but Mark grabbed tequila last night in case you want it.”
Jenna nodded and tried not to glance at the door. Adam was bound to come strolling out any moment, and part of her wanted to scurry off so she wouldn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of making conversation.
But part of her just wanted another glimpse of him. Just one quick look at those green eyes flashing with amusement and empathy and a sexy heat she wondered if anyone else recognized. Ridiculous, that’s what this was. She’d just spent the last five hours staring at the man, for crying out loud. Did she really need another fix?
She swallowed and forced her attention back to Mia. “Want me to bring a salad tonight?”
“Nah, I don’t feel like being healthy. I just want to put on my PJs, watch trashy TV, and enjoy some girl talk. Are you almost done for the day?”
“I wish. I’ve got a two-hour meeting with the Cancer Center team about some personnel issues, and then I have to run home and check on Gertie to make sure she’s doing okay.”
“She’s feeling better now?”
“Right as rain, but I want to check on her to be sure. How about I swing by around six?”
“Perfect. See you in a few.”
Jenna hustled away, breathing a sigh of relief she’d avoided running into Adam, even as she cast a glance over her shoulder hoping for one last glimpse.
The hallway was empty.
God, she must have looked at that shirtless photo of him at least a hundred times last night. It was stupid how thoroughly entranced she was by an image of a man wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and eyeglasses.
Not just any man, her conscience reminded her. If it were that simple, you’d be Googling “shirtless men with glasses” instead of staring at a photo of the guy who made your toes curl.
Jenna powered through the next few hours, soothing bruised egos and trying to mend fences for one of the most dysfunctional teams in the hospital system. By the time she slid her key into the lock of her front door, she was ready to take Mia’s pajama request seriously.
She opened the door, surprised to find the house silent. “Aunt Gertie?”
No reply. She moved down the hall toward Gert’s room, hating that her brain automatically went to the worst-case scenario. Gert not breathing. Gert unconscious in the bathtub.
As she rounded the corner to her aunt’s room, Jenna’s gut flooded with relief. The old woman was sound asleep, her chest rising and falling as one hand rested on the laptop folded shut on the bed beside her. Jenna watched her breathing for a few beats, moved by the faint smile etched into the creases of the older woman’s face. She looked peaceful and serene, with her white halo of hair feathered out across her pale yellow pillowcase.
Jenna turned and moved back toward the kitchen, setting her handbag by the door so she wouldn’t forget anything when she left for Mia’s house. In the middle of the table was a note anchored by the salt and pepper shakers. The neon pink stationary was adorned with Gertie’s flawless cursive.
Jenna,
I had a busy day today, so I’m taking a little nap. I know you’re having girls’ night with Mia, but I made a big pot of soup for my book club luncheon today. There’s plenty left if you want some. Please take a couple slices of cherry pie to Mia. I saved some just for her. Love you!
Jenna smiled, and glanced back down the hall, pleased Gertie had formed such a busy social life in Portland. Did her book club even know they had a bestselling author in their midst? Jenna touched the note, wondering how Gert’s call had gone with her agent.
She turned away and busied herself slicing pie and tucking it into a Tupperware container. By the time she arrived at Mia’s place, it was two minutes after six. She’d just raised her hand to knock when the door flew open.
“Hey, Jenna! Great to see you again. You can head on in if you want.” Mark beamed in greeting, then turned and leaned back into the house. “Hey, Mia—Jenna’s here. Come on, Katie—we’re gonna be late.”
Jenna stepped aside as a mousy-looking preteen slid past her with a nod of acknowledgment. Katie shrugged her backpack higher onto her shoulders and moved into step behind her father. “Hey, Jenna. Good to see you. Gotta go.”
“Hey, kiddo,” Jenna said, shifting her Tupperware to the other hand as she l
eaned down to give Katie a one-armed hug. “You’re getting so tall. You’re headed back to your mom’s?”
“Parent-teacher conferences. It’s pretty lame they make the kids come.”
“It’s a good chance to be accountable for your academic life,” Mark said, resting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder as they headed down the front steps. He smiled again at Jenna. “Not sure what she’s worried about anyway—she’s got straight As this term.”
“Way to go, girl,” Jenna said, waving to them as they reached the car. “Have fun.”
“Good luck!” Mia called, and Jenna turned to see her friend standing in the doorway with a wistful expression. She waved as her husband and stepdaughter slid into the car. “I’m proud of you, Katie-cakes.”
“Thanks,” Katie said, smiling faintly as she closed the car door and clicked her seatbelt over her small frame.
Jenna stood there watching, her eyes on the car, her shoulder brushing Mia’s. She waited until the car drove out of sight to turn back to her friend.
“Don’t you usually go to those parent-teacher things with Mark?”
“First one I’ve missed in two years,” Mia said, stepping aside to wave Jenna into the house. “But Ellen called last night to say she’s uncomfortable having me there.”
“Mark’s ex gets a say in whether you attend school conferences?”
Mia shrugged. “Mark scrambled to see if we could arrange separate conferences for us and for her, but it was too last-minute. I didn’t want to make a big deal about it and risk embarrassing Katie, so I said I’d sit this one out.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “You’d think she’d be happy that you want to be involved in her daughter’s life. That you’re a supportive stepmom.”
“You’d think.” Mia shrugged. “I don’t know. They’d been divorced for two years before Mark ever met me, but I think she always hoped they’d get back together.”
“Katie or Ellen?”
“I meant Ellen, but maybe Katie, too. Not that she’s ever been anything but sweet to me. She’s a great kid,” Mia smiled and pushed the front door shut, giving Jenna a flash of the new sapphire-dotted wedding band tucked up against her engagement ring. Mia had the ring custom-made, adorned with Katie’s birthstone as a nod to her stepdaughter’s place in her life and marriage.
Jenna looked back at Mia’s face, which was still a little wistful. “She is a great kid, but I’m sensing a but there.”
Mia shook her head. “It’s nothing. Come on, let’s get going on the nachos.”
Jenna caught her friend’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze to keep her from fleeing. “It’s not nothing. You seem upset. What’s up?”
“I’m sure it’s just pregnancy hormones. I’m fine.”
Jenna shook her head, seeing more in her friend’s eyes than the glitter of hormone-induced tears. “Come on, if you can’t vent to me, who can you vent to?”
Mia let out a long breath, and the fatigued look Jenna had noticed earlier was back in her face. “I can’t vent, that’s the thing. Do you know what Nancy Jensen said to me after the meeting today?” Mia swallowed and shook her head, looking up at the ceiling like she was trying to keep tears from falling. “She said ‘I hope your stepdaughter doesn’t know you say disparaging things about her. It can be very detrimental to the stepfamily relationship.’”
“Disparaging? What the hell was she talking about?”
“The thing about the toilet paper.”
Jenna blinked. “Are you kidding me? The board president is critiquing your parenting now? That wasn’t disparaging. That was a mom joking around about the challenges of raising a preteen.”
“That’s just it, though. I’m a stepparent.” Mia rubbed her hands down her face then turned toward the kitchen. Jenna followed, hating the despair in her friend’s voice. “There are different rules for stepmothers, apparently. Someone forgot to give me the rule book, but I know we’re not allowed to joke about parenting challenges. When bio parents do it, they’re bonding. When stepparents do it, we’re whining. Or worse, we’re maligning kids who don’t truly belong to us. Not really.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Jenna shook her head. They’d reached the kitchen, and she leaned against the counter beside Mia. “I’m sorry, Mia. I think you’re a great stepmom. And you’re going to be a great biological mother, too.”
“Thank you.” Mia managed a small smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I had a rough morning when Katie kissed her dad goodbye and thanked him for packing her lunch and buying her the cool new socks she was wearing, and I just stood there like an idiot biting back the urge to tell her those were things I did. Me. I stayed up late making the damn sandwich with her favorite pastrami and I picked out the socks because I remembered how much she loves pigs.” Mia shook her head. “I didn’t say anything, of course. I know she didn’t mean anything by it. She’s the most polite kid on the planet, and I know she just wanted to thank someone, so she thanked her dad.”
“Did Mark say anything?”
“He started to, but I stopped him. I don’t want to become one of those families where dad’s always ordering the kid to say thank you to the stepmom and the kid ends up feeling guilted into it. It wasn’t worth it. Like I said, I’m just being hormonal.”
“Still, I’m sorry.” Jenna leaned in and gave her a squeeze, breathing in the familiar apricot scent of Mia’s shampoo. “It can’t be easy.”
“I’ll get through it,” Mia said, offering a small smile as she drew back. “Just a few more weeks and the hormones should settle down.” Mia leaned back against the counter, resting her hand over her belly. Her eyes held Jenna’s for a long time, and Jenna felt something shift between them. “I’ve been thinking about you, hon. It’ll be two years this Friday, won’t it?”
Jenna nodded, fighting the surge of emotion that threatened to choke off her airway. “You’re probably the only person in the world who’d remember.”
“It was the day after my mom’s birthday, so that’s probably why. But really, every woman who’s had a miscarriage has the date permanently etched into her brain.” She squeezed Jenna’s hand. “It helps to have a friend help carry the memory.”
Jenna nodded and blinked hard to hold back the threat of tears. “Come on. Let’s drown our sorrows in nachos and bad television.”
“Deal!” Mia spun around and grabbed a bottle of margarita mix from the fridge. Nudging the refrigerator closed with her hip, she bent down and pulled the blender out of a cupboard at her knees. She set it on the counter and turned back to the freezer for ice. “Want me to add tequila to yours?”
“Nah, I’ll go virgin in a show of solidarity.”
Mia laughed and began scooping handfuls of ice into the blender. “Virgin. Right. Speaking of, any word from your mystery guy?”
Jenna forced herself to swallow, keeping her expression as neutral as possible as she moved past Mia to grab a big brick of cheddar from the fridge. “I told you that’s over. It was just a one-time thing.”
Mia shook her head, looking stern. “You don’t just walk away from sex that makes you glow like the way you were that morning. I got a contact high just sitting next to you.”
“The glow doesn’t last forever.” Jenna thunked the cheese down on the counter, deliberately choosing a workspace with her back to Mia so she wouldn’t have to meet her friend’s eyes. “I’ll keep dating, don’t worry. Just not that guy.”
“Suit yourself. I still think that one had potential.”
“Well, I don’t,” Jenna said, hoping she didn’t sound like a petulant toddler. She began to strip the plastic wrapper off the cheese, trying to keep her tone light. “So aside from the snippy comment from Nancy, how do you think the mediation thing is going?”
There was a long silence from Mia, and for a moment, Jenna feared she’d given herself away. Stupid. How obvi
ous to make such an abrupt transition from talk of her one-night stand to a review of Adam’s mediation session?
She glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see she wasn’t the cause of Mia’s distraction. “Damn blender,” Mia muttered, flipping the switch. “I swear, I should have let Adam take this one and just bought a new one when we split. I think this is left over from his college days.” She wiggled the cord and punched a button, and the blender finally whirred to life. She turned back to Jenna, brushing a handful of red hair from her face. “I’m sorry, what did you just ask?”
“Uh, the mediation. How do you think it went?”
“I thought it was productive,” Mia said, jiggling the blender as ice crunched between the blades. “Enlightening. We made a lot of progress, I think. Gotta give props to my ex for that one.”
“Oh?”
Mia blew the hair off her forehead and turned back to the blender. “I guess I should say props to Adam. That man talking about open communication and the value of expressing your feelings sure as hell isn’t the guy I was married to.”
Jenna reached into the cupboard above her head and pulled out the cheese grater, fighting to keep her voice detached and disinterested. “Really? Seems odd someone would have changed that much.”
Mia shrugged and flipped off the blender. “I suppose it’s different when it’s a marriage instead of a corporate negotiation, huh? Instead of colleagues with opposing views, you fall into the role of the shrewish, nagging harpy who’s never satisfied, or the humorless, detached bastard with a selfish streak.”
Jenna nodded and began to grate the cheese, trying to wrap her brain around the idea of Adam as humorless or detached or selfish. The same guy she’d flirted with over phony careers and wine? The same guy who’d taught her communication strategies on a hotel roof? The same guy who’d slid down her body and driven her crazy with his fingers and tongue and—
“You want the big one?”
“What?” Jenna whirled around to see Mia with two margarita glasses and a bemused expression.
“The big glass.” Mia smirked. “What did you think I meant?”