by Tawna Fenske
“So you like the new job?”
“What’s that?” He looked up at her, his hand still poised on the phone.
“Your job. You like the new place you’re working?”
“Yes, definitely. Much more challenging. The pay’s better, too.”
His phone buzzed with the sound of an incoming text message, and Sean looked down at it. He nodded absently, then reached for the device and began typing out a message with his thumbs.
Jenna took another sip of wine and glanced around the restaurant. Was it only a couple years ago this had been their old stomping ground? Funny how much her life had changed since she’d been Sean’s fiancée, since they’d been planning a future together and—
“Will you excuse me a sec?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts. “I just need to check on the pizza.”
He needed to make a phone call, she guessed, but Jenna just nodded and watched him walk away. She looked at her watch and wondered how long she had to make polite conversation with him before she could safely go home and put on her pajamas and watch trashy TV. An hour? Forty-five minutes?
She slid off her chair, catching Sean’s eye and gesturing to the far corner of the restaurant to let him know she was going to the bathroom. He was fiddling with his phone, but he gave her a thumbs-up as she moved through the crowd, picking her way past bistro tables strewn with beer mugs and half-eaten pizzas.
As she neared the restrooms, she took one last glance at Sean. He had his phone pressed to his ear, and was making a hurry-up gesture with his hand. Jenna suppressed an eye roll, shaking her head as she pivoted fast and marched around the corner.
“Ooof!”
She crashed into a wall with a fleeting thought of who changed the layout of the restaurant. Belatedly, she realized it wasn’t a wall at all. Not one made of bricks or wood, anyway.
She put her hands out to catch herself, pressing her palms against the chest she’d spent too much time staring at in a photograph lately. She looked up into those green eyes and lost her breath.
“Hello, Jenna.”
If thinking about Jenna on a random Friday evening was enough to conjure her up and have her fall into his arms, Adam figured he should probably spend more time imagining himself winning the lottery.
It wasn’t random, dumbass. You came here hoping you’d run into her.
Not literally, though. “Whoa there,” he said, catching her by the shoulders and setting her upright. Mistake. A surge of electricity fizzed through his fingers and up his arms, leaving him eager to touch more of her. All of her.
“Adam,” she gasped, looking flustered. She stared at her own hands, looking like she was trying desperately to figure out how they’d ended up pressed against his chest. Adam didn’t care, he just wanted them to stay there.
Instead she pried her hands away and took a step back. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I was planning to take a leak, then order a pizza. Pretty much the normal things you do when you’re walking to the bathroom at a pizza parlor.”
“No, I mean here—I mean—never mind.”
“You told me Rigatelli’s was the best. I wanted to check it out for myself.”
“Right. The karaoke doesn’t start for another hour.”
“I didn’t come for the karaoke.”
He let the words hang there for a moment, wondering if she’d read into that or just assume he meant the pizza. He wasn’t sure himself.
She glanced over her shoulder at a table in the corner where a dark-haired guy with the build of an NFL linebacker sat hunched over a table, fiddling with his phone. Adam studied the guy for a moment, then looked at Jenna.
“Ah, I get it. You’re on a date. Don’t worry, Jenna. I’m not planning to make a scene. Well, not unless you want me to.”
“No, it’s not that. Not a date, that is.” She blew out a breath and glanced over her shoulder again. “It’s just my ex-fiancé. We sort of ran into each other, and it’s kind of a significant date in our history, so it sorta morphed into dinner together.” She shrugged and gave a look like she wanted the ground to swallow her up. Or maybe Adam was reading too much into it. “Anyway, the whole thing feels really awkward, you know?”
Adam nodded, oddly relieved to discover she could relate to the sort of ex weirdness he’d been dealing with all week. “Ah, the joys of unexpected fraternization with an ex. Is there anything more awkward?”
Jenna gave a funny sort of half smile and looked thoughtful. “How about singing along with Vanilla Ice and realizing your car windows are down?”
“Good point. Or how about when a waiter tells you to have a good meal and you reply, ‘You, too!’”
She was smiling for real now, and he watched her shoulders relax. He ached to touch them again, but settled for shoving his hands in his pockets.
“What about pushing a door and then realizing it says ‘pull’ in big red letters?” she offered.
“Having a coughing fit in the middle of a meeting when you choke on your tea?”
“Watching a movie with your elderly aunt and discovering there’s a really graphic sex scene.”
“Ha! How about answering a question you think a stranger just asked you and then it turns out he’s just talking on his Bluetooth?”
“Awkward,” she agreed. “Been there, done that. Once with a woman having a conversation on the other side of the bathroom stall. I kept answering questions she was asking, thinking ‘this is kind of weird, but maybe she’s just friendly.’ She finally put the call on hold and told me to cut it out.”
Adam laughed and leaned against the wall, really enjoying himself now. “That’s a good one. Definitely ex-fraternization level of awkwardness. How about splashing your crotch at a drinking fountain and feeling compelled to explain to everyone that you didn’t really pee yourself?”
“Oooh, good one. What about smiling at someone who’s checking you out in a bar, and then realizing they’re looking at the person behind you?”
“I’ve done that a time or two,” he admitted. “Once I was on the opposite end of it though, and a girl standing near the one I was making eyes at thought I was flirting with her. She came over to my table and introduced herself.”
“What did you do?”
He shrugged. “Bought her a drink, talked to her for an hour, and walked her home. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“Geez, you really are a standup guy.”
“Or a wuss. I suppose it’s all about perspective. Okay, how about saying goodbye to someone you’ve been talking to and then realizing you’re walking the same direction?”
“Yeah, definitely awkward.” Jenna seemed to hesitate a moment, then leaned back against the wall beside him, their shoulders touching companionably. “How about when a car stops to let you cross the street and you start jogging to be polite, but then realize you’re giving him a jiggle show?”
Adam laughed and did his best not to look at her chest. “You win. I don’t think I’ve ever given anyone a jiggle show. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
She smiled and took a deep breath before glancing back toward the dining room. Toward the linebacker. When she turned to Adam again, the smile had faded a little. “Thanks, Adam. I needed that. I should probably get back.”
“Don’t you have to pee?”
“Not really. I just needed an excuse to get up and walk around.”
“Fair enough. Also, for the record, if I could rewind and strike that last question from the record, I’d do it. In the future, I’ll do a better job of making conversation that doesn’t involve inquiring about someone’s bathroom habits.”
She smiled again, but it wasn’t reaching her eyes anymore. They’d flickered again to the table in the corner, and Adam wondered whether she was eager to get back to the guy or eager to end this conversation.
&n
bsp; “I should probably let you go,” he said. “If the ex awkwardness gets to you, you can always pull the fire alarm.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” Jenna sighed and ran her hands over her hair. “It’s okay, really. He’s a good guy, and probably exactly who I ought to be hanging out with tonight.”
Something in her tone made Adam lose the urge to joke. “How do you mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it. It’s been nice talking to you, Adam.”
“Likewise,” he said, stepping aside to let her pass. She stood there for a moment with her hands at her sides, looking a little lost. When she moved, it was in the direction of the bathroom.
“I guess I’ll go after all.”
“Good plan,” he said.
He turned and walked into the men’s room before any other idiotic utterances could pass his lips. He took care of business quickly, then washed his hands while looking in the mirror and giving himself a silent pep talk about not lusting after women he had no business pursuing. She’d made it clear that wasn’t in the cards for them. There was no point giving it any further thought.
He left the men’s room and headed for the front counter, happy to discover the pizza he’d ordered was ready to go. If he’d had it delivered instead of walking four blocks from his hotel, he never would have seen Jenna. He tried to decide if that was a good thing.
The pizza box was warm and fragrant and bigger than it had any right to be, considering he was a guy who planned to eat it alone in front of the television in his hotel room on a Friday night. He tucked it against his chest and headed for the door, but he couldn’t resist the urge to look back at the corner table.
Jenna had rejoined her ex. Whatever they were talking about looked intimate, and their heads were bent close together. Even from this distance, Adam saw something tender and wistful in her eyes. When the guy reached out and put his hand on Jenna’s, she didn’t pull away.
Adam hadn’t realized he’d stopped walking until someone bumped him from behind. Even then, he stood frozen in place. Something twisted in his gut, and he stood there transfixed, his eyes on Jenna and the man she’d once planned to spend the rest of her life with. How long ago was it?
She must have felt his eyes on her then, and she looked up. She didn’t seem startled at all to see Adam watching her. She blinked slowly, then looked down at her hand. The other man’s palm still covered it, and she seemed to hesitate a moment. Then she drew her other hand up and placed it on top of his.
A hand sandwich, Adam thought absurdly, then turned away. He stepped out into the rainy Portland evening, wishing like hell he’d had the pizza delivered.
An hour later, Adam sat shirtless in his boxer shorts on sheets too clean to be truly comfortable. He’d polished off his pizza and felt a little sick. He was pretty sure it was just the pepperoni, but who was he kidding? The image of Jenna with that other guy kept flashing through his brain, which was stupid. He had no right to be jealous. No right to judge her for reconnecting with a man she’d loved enough to agree to marry at one point.
The idea of getting back together with Mia seemed ridiculous to him now, but there’d been a time he would have considered it. Could he blame Jenna for doing the same with her ex?
He picked up the remote and began flipping through channels, trying to get the image of her out of his mind. QVC was selling some sort of kebab maker that caught Adam’s interest for at least twenty minutes. One of the Rocky movies—was it IV or V?—flickered on the next channel. He flipped the remote button again, feeling irritated. Did MTV even play music anymore?
Adam sighed and set the remote down. None of it was any match for the image of Jenna’s eyes meeting his from across the room, the sight of her fingers entwined with someone else’s.
He needed to get the fuck over it; that was obvious. There was at least another month left in his contract with Belmont, maybe longer, but he could at least do a better job of keeping her out of his field of vision. Out of his thoughts.
Grabbing the remote, he flipped off the television, then picked up his laptop. He opened up the folder containing all his materials for the Belmont negotiations. The screen lit up with an Excel spreadsheet he’d been working on earlier, and he reached for his glasses. Shoving them onto his nose, he began making notes in the file. He’d have to remember to talk with Human Resources about some changes in the dental plan, and he needed to crunch a few numbers on some proposed changes to the ETO system. That was going to be a contentious discussion, especially with the folks from the nurses’ union.
He made a note to talk with the CEO about the legal ramifications of—
What the hell was he doing?
He frowned, staring down at the spreadsheet. Working late on a Friday night? This is what the old Adam Thomas would do. He’d stay up late crunching numbers and planning strategies instead of doing something fun or engaging. Instead of going home to his wife.
Okay, so there was no wife now. He was glad about that, but it didn’t mean he had free license to behave like a workaholic jerk. Closing out the file, he clicked to his Internet browser. He ignored the Facebook icon, not giving in to the ridiculous urge to look up Jenna or her linebacker boyfriend. He hesitated a moment, then scrolled to his favorite travel website and began browsing.
How long had it been since he’d taken a vacation? Hawaii would be nice this time of year, or maybe somewhere in the Caribbean. He thought about tropical drinks and warm, sandy beaches. About palm trees swaying in the breeze and calypso music lilting across the bay. About Jenna in a bikini and—
No. Focus, dammit.
Maybe a vacation was exactly what he needed. Something to reset his clock, give him some new perspective on life. Maybe he could take up scuba diving or bird watching.
A knock sounded at the door, bursting in on his thoughts. He frowned down at his watch. Who the hell would stop by at eight on a Friday evening? No one even knew he was here.
He rolled out of bed, not bothering to pull on a shirt or pants. Anyone bold enough to knock on a stranger’s hotel room door after dark on a Friday evening could damn well deal with the sight of him in Batman boxers.
Adam pulled the door open and froze. Jenna stood there in the hallway, her hair matted and rain soaked, her hands clenched in front of her. Her mascara was streaked from rain or from tears, and she looked ready to break in two.
“Jenna?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, and launched herself into his arms.
Chapter Eight
Adam staggered backward, surprised by the force with which Jenna hurled herself at him. He felt his arms go around her without any thought to whether it was a good idea, what she was even doing here.
“Jenna? Are you okay?”
“Mmmphwalawonwugoo,” she murmured against his chest, and it felt so good to have her cradled there that he didn’t really give a damn whether he understood a word she was saying. She was soggy and cold and the best damn thing he’d ever felt in his life.
He held her for a moment longer, not sure whether to close the door to offer some privacy, or stand here holding her until she decided to tell him what the hell was going on. He should probably put on some clothes, but somehow it was the last thing he wanted to do.
“What are you sorry for, Jenna?” he asked, and felt her stir in his arms. “Did something happen?”
She shook her head and drew back, and Adam felt the absence of her warm breath on his chest. “I tried to make myself feel something for Sean,” she said. “He held my hand, and I let him, and it felt so good to have someone touching me that way and when he asked me to come back to his place I started thinking about how good it would feel to—”
She broke off there, scrubbing at her eyes in a way that made the mascara streaks look like war paint. Her gaze drifted from his face down to his chest and seemed to freeze there. He waited, not sure what etiquette called for.
He should definitely get dressed.
“Hang on, let me grab a shirt.”
“No!” She put a hand out to touch his chest, a gesture that seemed to startle them both. “I mean, don’t do it on my account.”
“Okay.” He ran his hands through his hair and tried to remember what they’d been talking about. “So you slept with your ex and now you feel even more awkward about the whole thing?”
“No! I didn’t sleep with him.” She took a shaky breath and met his eyes again. “I said I thought about it, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. And the next thing I knew I was bawling and blabbering to him about how I needed to come find you and apologize, so that’s what I’m doing now. Apologizing.”
He frowned, not sure he was following her line of thought. “For what?”
“For blowing you off. For not introducing you to Sean or inviting you to join us for dinner. For holding hands with my goddamn ex.”
“You don’t owe me an apology for any of that, Jenna. You were reconnecting with someone you cared about. You and I aren’t dating. Hell, we’re pretending not to even know each other that well. You’re free to sleep with your ex anytime you want.”
Those last words came out stilted, and they tasted bad on his tongue. He felt relieved when she shook her head.
“That’s just it, I don’t want to sleep with him. Fuck!” She raked her hands through her hair, making weird wet rows around her face that gave her a beautifully crazed appearance. “I want to sleep with you, but obviously that’s not possible, and the whole thing made me think about how I’d feel if you slept with your ex—I mean, forget the fact that she’s married to someone else—”
“Seems fair, since she managed to forget it when she was married to me.”
Adam could have kicked himself for the bitterness in his own tone, but Jenna just shook her head.
“I thought about how I’d feel if you slept with an ex. Or anyone, really. I didn’t like it, Adam. I didn’t like it at all.”