Secrets of a Shy Socialite

by Wendy S. Marcus

  Jena didn’t know whether to be flattered that he’d shown up to spend time with her or insulted that he’d come to keep an eye on her because he didn’t think her capable.

  “Hey,” Mary said, moving her head around to catch Jena’s attention. “Dr. Morloni’s right. You did a great job holding things together.”

  Jena smiled. “Thanks. Honestly, I enjoyed every crazy minute of it.” For weeks her life revolved around caring for the twins. Jena loved being a mom. But her temporary job, which entailed three of her favorite activities, organizing, prioritizing, and nursing, energized and revitalized her.

  After filling the rooms and walking the wrist injury to X-ray, Jena found Justin in the lobby. “May I speak with you?”

  He followed her into the hallway.

  “There are two teenagers in the waiting area, sitting with an older gentleman,” she informed him, keeping her voice hushed.

  “I noticed them.”

  “Both are here with complaints of pain and Mary asked me to point them out to you. Something about a drug dealer sending kids in to get prescriptions for narcotics.”

  “They fit the profile.” Justin ran his fingers over his goatee. “Let Mary handle them.”

  Absolutely not. “I so appreciate your confidence in my skill as a nurse and my ability to handle this job.” She turned to leave.

  He caught her by the arm, his large hand strong, yet gentle. “These are street kids,” he whispered forcefully. “They’re more dangerous than they look. Working in rural South Carolina give you a lot of experience dealing with patients who’d have no problem pulling a knife on you to get what they want?”

  So he’d been pumping Jaci for more information about where she’d been. And no, it hadn’t. A sudden chill made her twitch. But that did not lessen her resolve to do the job she’d come here to do. “If taking care of street kids, as you call them, is part of my job responsibilities, then best I learn how to deal with them. And if keeping me safe is part of your job responsibilities, best you focus on that rather than worrying about my past work experience.”

  “You’re as stubborn as your sister.”

  Not quite, but she liked that he thought so.

  “Okay,” he acquiesced. “Take them in one at a time, and not until the doctor’s ready for them. Make sure I’m in the lobby and I see you walk each one in.”

  She nodded her understanding.

  “Anything makes you uncomfortable, you call me.”

  She looked up and saw his concern. “I will.” Instead of feeling flattered or insulted by his presence her first night at work, she felt appreciative, realizing he’d come to keep her safe. “Thank you,” she said, “for being here.” Because it provided her a level of comfort she may not have had otherwise.

  He skimmed his index finger down the side of her face. “You can be real sweet sometimes.”

  She winked, “When it suits me,” and returned to work.

  The next two hours went by in a blur of activity, but Jena still made time to call home twice to check on the girls, who were fine. Mary insisted on accompanying her for the discharge of each of the teens, which turned out to be a good thing as one in particular started arguing and begging when Dr. Morloni a.k.a. Dr. Charmer, informed the patient his exam was negative and recommended over the counter non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medication for pain management.

  The boy’s desperation clawed at Jena’s heart, to be so young and possibly involved in the illegal drug trade. What would happen to him when the dealer found out he’d been unsuccessful?

  “I tried,” Justin said when he returned from escorting the boys and their “guardian” to Gayle to pay then to the parking lot to leave. “I gave each of them the chance to come clean, to give up the name of the drug dealer who put them up to coming in for narcotics prescriptions in return for police protection.”

  Great. Maybe...

  He shook his head. “They laughed and shared their thoughts on police and their protection. I won’t pollute your ears with the specifics. Suffice it to say they weren’t interested.”

  Stupid. Maybe if they’d had access to a quality kids club with positive role models to look out for them when they were younger, or vocational training programs to funnel them into legal, well-paying jobs. Jena made a mental note to research what programs and services were available to the youth of the area. Jaci had championed women in crisis. Maybe with some of the money from her trust Jena could do the same for children.

  “Hey.” With a finger under her chin Justin nudged her face up to look at him. “You can’t help people who don’t want to be helped.”

  “Says the jaded cop.”

  “Not jaded as much as realistic.” He smiled. “Your brother was right. You do have a soft heart.”

  “They’re kids,” Jena pointed out.

  “In this area, childhood ends a lot younger than seventeen. Come on.” He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her down the hall. “I heard Mary tell you to eat your dinner.”

  In the break room, Jena washed her hands in the small sink and Justin collected their bagged meals from the mini-fridge. Then Justin washed his hands and Jena poured two cups of coffee which she carried to the round four-person table in the corner.

  In the process of unwrapping his deli sandwich Justin said, “Last night I promised you would have your bills sorted and paid, you would understand your investments and know how much money you had, and you’d be writing checks by Monday. That’s not going to happen if tomorrow you refuse my calls and pretend you’re not home when I knock on your door like you did today.” He bit into half of what looked like a twelve inch Italian combo sub.

  So he’d figured out the truth. Well, Jena had another bit of truth for him. “I’m not going to marry you,” she blurted out. There. She said it. No more thinking about his degrading non-proposal. “Hell, five years isn’t all that long. I’ll marry you.” Or how much his I-can-put-up-with-anything-for-five-years attitude bothered her. Like she was a nuisance. Someone to be tolerated.

  Justin took his time chewing and didn’t respond until after he swallowed. “Funny, I don’t recall requiring marriage to help you with your finances.” He casually reached for a creamer from the basket in the center of the table, poured it into his coffee and stirred. “But since you brought up the topic, why not?”

  “You really want to get into this?” She entwined her fingers on the table. “Here. Now.”

  “No time like the present, don’t you think?” He took another bite of his sandwich.

  Jena had lost her appetite. This was her opportunity to tell him, to dispel any notion of them getting married. To reveal the truth. Soon she would no longer be an exact replica of Jaci and the only part of her he desired—her body—would be altered, her full womanly curves gone forever. Unless...no. She’d made her decision, would not change her mind. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Could not find the words, where to start, how to explain. She needed more time. Only she didn’t have time. So she settled on, “It would never work,” and busied herself by adding two creamers and a packet of sugar to her coffee so she didn’t have to look at him.

  “Why wouldn’t it work?” He stuffed more food into his mouth.

  So many reasons. For starters, “because each time we were intimate I’d know you’d rather be with my sister. That I’ll never be anything more to you than a poor substitute for the woman you really want.”

  He choked.

  Good.

  “That’s not true.”

  “You feel so good Jaci,” Jena repeated the words he’d uttered over and over when they’d been in bed together. “Do you have any idea how special you are?”

  “That’s not fair.” He placed his sandwich on the paper wrapper. “I said those things because I thought I was in bed with Jaci. Because you’d led me to believe
I was in bed with Jaci.”

  “Which gave you the opportunity to pour out your true feelings.”

  “I was drunk.”

  “A drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts.”

  “This is nuts.” He slapped his hand on the table. “You won’t marry me, the father of your daughters, because of a bit of wisdom you found inside a fortune cookie?”

  “I won’t marry you because you don’t want to marry me.” She pushed away from the table. “I won’t marry you because making you a daily part of my daughters’ lives, knowing you plan to desert all of us in five years is cruel.” She stood. “I won’t marry you because Jerald’s right.” She scooped up her uneaten dinner and turned to leave. “I’d be miserable married to a man like you.” A man she would love who could never love her, one focused on physical beauty and incapable of monogamy. At least if she married Thomas terms could be negotiated, time frames agreed to, her heart protected. And her body wouldn’t matter.

  * * *

  “Wait.” Justin made it to the door before she could open it. “I do want to marry you.”

  “Why?” she asked, her blue eyes challenging him.

  Because it was the right thing to do. The honorable thing. But from the look on her face he was pretty sure neither answer would satisfy her.

  “Because I’m rich?” she asked. “Because if you marry me, you’ll be rich too?”

  No.

  Before he could expand his no from an instantaneous mental reaction to an actual verbal response she said, “Because I’m pretty?” She grazed her fingers down his chest enticingly. “Because you want my body night after night?”

  Oh, yeah. He liked that idea. He turned them so her back was to the door and pressed his body to hers. “I don’t need your money,” he whispered in her ear. “And maybe five years will turn into ten or twenty or a lifetime.” He kissed down the side of her neck. “We won’t know until we give marriage a try. But no matter what happens between us, I will never desert my daughters.”

  He kissed back up to her ear. “While we’re figuring it all out, sex night after night sounds real good to me.” He brought his hand to her breast. “And trust me.” He caressed until he felt the tight bud of her nipple through her bra and blouse. “I’ll make you feel so good so often you won’t have time to be miserable.”

  He moved his lips to hers. Kissed her, tasted her, wanted more of her. “You have the most amazing breasts.” He explored their supple fullness with both hands.

  She pushed him away. “And what if I didn’t?” she snapped, straightening her clothes. “What if I didn’t have amazing breasts? What if my body repulsed you?”

  She wasn’t making any sense. “But it doesn’t. It’s perfect. I love your body. I want your body.” Any man who swung toward heterosexual would want her body.

  At that last thought, an unfamiliar, possessive, mine, mine, mine all mine popped into Justin’s head.

  Jena shoved him.

  “What?”

  “I am more than a pair of breasts.” She had tears in her eyes. And he’d put them there. An odd, uncomfortable pressure settled in his chest.

  She reached for the door.

  He grabbed her hand. “What’s wrong?” How had complimenting her body taken such a wrong turn?

  “I can’t do this,” she said. “Please.” She looked up at him. “I need to get back to work.”

  The aftermath of whatever the hell happened between them in the break room helped Justin recognize yet another difference between Jena and Jaci. The silent treatment. For better or for worse, Jaci put her emotions out there for all to see. In stark contrast to her sister, when something upset Jena, she went quiet. Of course she was too well-mannered to completely ignore him, but her interactions turned brief, coolly polite, and only when necessary.

  She didn’t want to marry him? Fine. He’d tried to do the right thing. She’d turned him down. Done. Pressure off. He could still parent without the hassle of marriage. Even better.

  Jena smiled warmly at an unkempt woman in the waiting area, helped her with her diaper bag and, while accompanying her and a small child to an exam room, chatted like they were old friends. Comfortable. Genuine.

  When she passed by Justin he may as well have been a cobweb for all the attention she paid him. They’d reverted back to high school.

  Except now he couldn’t help noticing her. Long blonde curls restrained in a tight bun, her luscious curves hidden beneath a boxy scrub top, and her face devoid of trendy, high-fashion makeup, she looked nothing like socialite Jena Piermont from the society pages of newspapers and magazines. She looked better. Real.

  Desirable.

  And he had a hankering for the genuine version of Jena.

  Dr. Charmer passed her in the hallway and smiled.

  Justin imagined the satisfying crack of dislocating the jaw attached to that smile with one powerful punch.

  Which made no sense. Because Justin didn’t do jealousy. Except, apparently where Jena, the mother of his twins was concerned, he did.

  Lord help him.

  A married couple returned to the desk to check out with Gayle. The man guided his wife with a gentle hand at her mid-back while holding their sleeping baby in a car seat. He’d watched them and listened to them since they’d arrived. They were about the same age as he and Jena, their baby a couple of months older than the twins. The woman had been nervous, worried about the child’s fever and bright red cheeks. The man held her hand or sat with his arm around her while she rested her head on his shoulder.

  The guy probably had a better role model growing up than Justin had. He didn’t know how to be the type of man Jena wanted. The type of man she deserved. That didn’t stop a small part of him from wondering what if?

  Thank goodness work saved him from his thoughts. “You folks all set?” he asked as they stood. “I’ll escort you out.”

  The man opened the car door for his wife then walked to the other side of the car and placed the car seat in its base.

  “How long have you been married?” Justin asked.

  “A few weeks,” the man replied.

  So they’d had the baby first, too.

  “Thank you,” the man said and got into the car. Before he started the engine, he leaned over to kiss his wife. She smiled at her husband like he was the most special man in the world.

  He imagined Jena giving him a look like that and went all warm inside. Until he remembered women like Jena didn’t give men like him looks like that. Because he didn’t do love, sucked at demonstrating affection, and while she was looking for long term he’d never managed to stay with the same woman longer than one month. Twenty-two days to be exact. And the last three he’d spent ignoring her phone calls until she officially broke it off.

  Back inside his cell phone buzzed. He checked the number—Jaci—and walked out of Gayle’s hearing. “What’s wrong?”

  “Hello to you, too,” Jaci said. “The girls are fine, sleeping like little angels.”

  He relaxed.

  “Ian just told me you scheduled yourself to work at the urgent care center tonight. Very interesting,” she teased.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “To know how Jena’s doing. We haven’t heard from her in over an hour.” Despite the non-stop pace of patient after patient with little to no downtime in between, Jena had managed to check on the twins. Caring. Concerned. A good mother. Unlike his who’d chosen the lure of the Las Vegas stage over caring for a toddler. Without so much as a phone call or birthday card since.

  “She’s fine.” He watched Jena move from one exam room to the next. Purposeful. Confident. Impressive. “Just busy.”

  “Ian also tells me you’ll be giving her a ride home tonight to save him a trip out?”

  “Yup.” Justin p
icked up an abandoned tiny sneaker, lying on its side at the base of a potted plant and put it on the corner of Gayle’s desk.

  “I don’t know,” Jaci said. “She was pretty quiet today and didn’t want to see you when you stopped by. Did something happen between the two of you last night?”

  Interesting. So Jena hadn’t shared his offer of marriage with her sister.

  “Is she okay with you bringing her home?” Jaci asked.

  She’d have to be since she’d have no other option. “Yup.”

  “Can you put her on? I’d like to hear it from her.”

  “Nope, she’s in with a patient.” That wasn’t a lie.

  “Have her call me.”

  “Sure thing.” That was. “But don’t worry if she doesn’t. It’s crazy here tonight.”

  The next time Jena went to breeze by him without a word he reached out to stop her. “Jaci called.”

  She stiffened and flashed him a worried glance.

  “The babies are fine. She wanted you to know since they’re asleep she’s going to sleep,” he lied.

  “Thank you,” she said without looking at him and continued on her way.

  A few minutes before close, upon returning from investigating a disturbance behind the building, Justin met up with a worried Gayle hurrying toward him. “One of those boys you escorted out of here earlier came back.”

  Justin sped up.

  “He said something to Jena and the fool girl followed him outside,” Gayle said.

  Justin broke into a run.

  “I told her to wait for you,” Gayle said as he passed her on his way to the entrance.

  “If I’m not back in one minute call the police.” Justin shot out into the dark. “Jena,” he yelled.

  Nothing.

  “Jena,” he yelled again, louder, so anyone within a mile radius would hear him.

  Nothing.

  So he listened. Cars driving past. A horn honked in the distance. Then quiet. A muffled... He turned to the right. Followed the sound to the far end of the parking lot where the spaces designated for the urgent care staff were located, noting it seemed darker and more shadowed than it had earlier. “If you hurt her I’ll kill you,” he called out. Even unarmed—because the urgent care center management did not want their security guards to carry weapons of any type with children around—he could do it. And would.