“I know that. What I don’t know is how Jenn could lie to me.” A wordless lie was still a lie. “To us.”
“I’m not the one who assumed your lawyer was an exotic dancer.”
No, he wasn’t.
Had he really been fooling himself? Seeing what he wanted to see instead of what was? He shook his head. “She didn’t trust me with the truth. She could have told me at any point over the last six weeks, and chose not to.”
“Maybe because she thought you’d take it badly.” Big Jake gave the overturned trash can a disgusted look. “And you are.”
“That’s what I need. A father who loves and supports me, no matter what.”
“Maybe you need someone who loves you enough to tell you when you’re being an idiot,” his father snapped. “You are, you know. You walk away from that gal now and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
“Dad—”
“When you find a woman like that, you’re crazy to let her go.”
“Even if she’s a liar?”
“Is she, Son?”
With that, his father strode from his office, powerful and assured as he’d been before his hospital stay. Greg was glad to see it. He just wished Big Jake were less of a know-it-all.
It galled him all the more that his father was right. So was Jenn. The phrase “I’m a stripper” had never come out of her mouth. She’d just stopped bothering to correct his assumption.
His mother’s voice filled his head with one of her favorite sayings. “You know what happens when you assume.”
He did. However, he wasn’t quite ready to admit he was a full-on ass.
Chapter Nineteen
A week and a half after Greg’s failed attempt to meet her parents, Jenn had settled back into her routine at the law office. Reluctantly, sure. But she was glad to have the job to fall back on. Not everyone was so lucky.
On Wednesday, she juggled her purse, briefcase and iced coffees for herself and the receptionist as she entered the office. When she dropped the drink off at Patti’s desk, the receptionist held up her finger.
Jenn waited until Patti finished her call. She used the time to slip off her flats and put on the pumps she’d stashed in the oversized purse she’d had to return to lugging around.
“I wanted to give you a heads up. There’s a client waiting in your office.”
“Thanks, Patti. I appreciate it.” Who could it be? She had no appointments scheduled this morning.
She headed down the hall as she battled the foolish hope that her visitor would be Greg, here to apologize—or better yet, beg her to work for him again. After working for the Foundation, perusing contracts and doing her boss’ scut work held a lot less appeal these days.
“That was your first mistake,” she muttered under her breath. “You left everything so well organized, the party will practically run itself.”
The Foundation’s holiday party was set for a week from Saturday, the second weekend in December, and she had no doubt it’d go off smoothly. Greg didn’t need her, especially since he couldn’t stand the sight of her.
Through the frosted glass window of her office, she saw the backside of whoever sat next to her desk. The blond head was so achingly familiar that her heart hammered and she froze.
Maybe she really could wish something, or someone, into existence. A novel concept, given how many times her childhood wishes had gone unfulfilled.
That was then. Now, things happened for her. She made sure of it.
She regained her equilibrium and fumbled with the doorknob. It opened and she burst into the room, her heavy purse hanging precariously from her arm by only one strap. The man rose and turned, and Jenn’s racing heart slowed. Not Greg after all. Amazing—and annoying—how much alike the two looked from the back. “Jake.”
“Sorry to surprise you like this.” He relieved her of both purse and briefcase, crouching to set them on the floor beside her desk. Then he sprang back to his feet with a surprising amount of agility for someone who’d recently spent two weeks in the hospital. “But I needed to talk to you.”
“Is something wrong with plans for the holiday party?”
“No, nothing like that. Have a seat.” He waited for her to sit before retaking the chair in front of her desk. “Jenn, I like you, so I’m going to cut straight to the chase. Two’s miserable.”
“Probably because you’re still calling him Two.” She bit back a smile.
Jake laughed. “That might have something to do with it. But I think it has more to do with the absence of a certain green-eyed brunette.”
Jake’s laugh was so much like his son’s that she hurt to hear it. She swallowed against the lump rising in her throat. “I doubt that. Greg was pretty clear he wanted nothing more to do with me.”
“That was anger talking.” His hand slashed through the air. “He doesn’t know what to do with himself without you there.”
It’d be nice if it were true, but Jake was prone to exaggeration. She sighed. “You’re much too kind to someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, darlin’.” Jake reached across the desk to pat her hand. “He roams the halls with no destination and grumpy is the nicest way to describe his mood. He bit Ellen’s head off yesterday when all she did was try to take him a cup of coffee.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I don’t see how I can help.”
“He needs you, Jenn. Before he drives off everyone who works for the Foundation.”
“That’s sweet, Jake. But what I did was unforgivable. I don’t deserve Greg.”
“I’ll never understand you young people and your reverse sense of entitlement.” Jake vaulted out of his chair and paced the only uncluttered path in her ten-by-twelve office. “You love who you love, whether they ‘deserve’ it or not. And if you’re too stubborn, or stupid, to hold onto that love when you find it, you’ll be doomed to a life of misery.”
“I wish that were true.”
“It is. Open your eyes.”
“Greg’s right. I could have made him listen. Should have, especially before we—” She broke off when she remembered she was speaking to Greg’s father. Her cheeks warmed. “Sorry, Jake.”
“I remember the honeymoon phase. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another.” He chuckled. “As it should be.”
Jake stopped pacing. His eyes searched her face. “I tried to tell him you weren’t a stripper. More than once. He’s the damn fool who thought what he wanted to. And it’s his own damn fault he’s like a bear with a sore paw.”
Even her scalp was hot under Jake’s scrutiny. “You’re still too kind. I’m far from guiltless here.”
“Poppycock.” He waved again. “But since I see you’re just as stubborn as Two, I’m going to ask you to do something for me.”
She thought of how unselfish he’d been. How he’d offered her a job without question, just because Greg asked him to. The generous salary. The acceptance. “Anything.”
“Come to the holiday party as my guest.”
She clapped a lid on the bubbling pot of emotions. “Anything but that. Greg doesn’t want to see me, and I don’t want to pressure him.” She also didn’t want to put herself through the torture of seeing Greg, close enough to reach out and touch, yet far from touchable.
“Two doesn’t know what he wants.” Jake’s lips tipped up. “Besides, you wouldn’t be his date. You’d be mine.”
The familiar grin ripped a new hole in her still-raw and battered heart. “Won’t your wife have something to say about that?”
His head shook, a decisive no. “Maree refuses to attend Foundation functions when the kids are involved. Claims children creep her out.”
“And you married this woman?”
His shoulders rose and fell. “Already raised one kid. Greg’s enough of a pain in my ass to know I don’t need any more.”
Jenn laughed through the lump of tears that threatened to choke her. “Good point.”
Perhaps sensing her weakness, Jake renewed his efforts. “Just come to the party and see what happens.”
“Jake, I—”
“Fulfill a dying man’s request,” he cajoled. “Do it for me.”
The feelings roiling beneath the cover escaped and she sobbed. “Okay, Jake. For you.”
“And for Greg.”
Her agreement was slower this time, but she wasn’t cold-hearted enough to deny such a generous, loving man what could be his last request. “And for Greg.”
“Good. I’ll send a car for you at six-thirty sharp on Saturday the fourteenth.” Jake smiled. “No need to show me out. I know the way.”
Jenn watched him walk down the hall, a jaunt in his step. Crafty goat wasn’t dying anytime soon. She’d just been played.
She didn’t mind. Much, anyway. He’d given her a way to stay involved with the campaign she’d poured so much of herself into. And if she could sneak a few peeks at the man she’d treated so badly, all the better. Whether she deserved Greg or not, she still wanted him. Jake was right: You love whom you love. And she’d always mourn her wasted chance at a life with Greg.
****
The Saturday of the Bartlesby Foundation’s holiday party dawned at a cool, for Phoenix, 57 degrees.
Greg smiled to himself. “Finally something Jenn didn’t plan for.”
Where the holiday campaign was concerned, this was his first chance to be useful in weeks. Before heading to the office gym for a workout, he made a few phone calls to arrange for extra heaters to be placed in the tent set up in the zoo’s parking lot. The party’s young guests of honor wouldn’t shiver through the night on his watch.
During his eight-mile run on the office treadmill, he mentally ran through a checklist of last-minute preparations. Jenn had organized everything so well that pretty much all that was left for him to do was get dressed and show up.
Not for the first time, he wondered what she was doing. Did she think about him, and the Foundation, at all, or had she just written him off with the spiky, cramped signature on her resignation letter?
Disgruntled by the possibility, he punched the treadmill to a stop and hit the weight bench instead. Lifting heavy would take his mind off her.
Or not. If there was justice in the world, Jenn thought about him at least once an hour, as he did her. Ha! She’d probably moved on to tell someone else half-truths and lies of omission.
Except that’s not what she did, and you know it.
His conscience’s objections got louder and less easy to ignore every time Jenn’s name came into his thoughts. He sighed and slammed the dumbbells to the floor. Maybe it was time to listen.
The rest of the day passed in a blur, and before he knew it, it was time to see what superhero Big Jake had decided he should be. He’d received the box from the costume shop Friday, with strict instructions not to open it until Saturday night.
The old man was up to something. What, Greg didn’t know.
“Probably don’t wanna know, either.”
Maybe he should skip the party, avoid whatever his father had planned.
Since he was in charge, that wasn’t an option. Besides, he wanted to see the results of all their hard work—all Jenn’s hard work. This gala would be something special, something that had the potential to inspire hundreds of youngsters to reach for their dreams.
He cut the tape on the costume box and pulled up the flap. A puddle of red and blue fabric greeted him, along with an unmistakable “S.”
“Superman, huh?” he grumbled. “Guess that means I get to wear tights.”
When he took the costume out of the box, a slip of paper fell to the floor. He picked it up. Another note. It began: Son, tonight you fight for truth, justice and the American way.
He looked up from the paper. “What does he think I’ve been doing?”
The ceiling fan had no answer, so he read the next line.
Not the truth you think you know, but the actual truth. Grab it with both hands, Two. Hold on as if your life depended on it, because it just might.
Clearly, Big Jake had something up his sleeve. Something that involved Jenn.
He closed his eyes. If his father had somehow talked her into attending the party, he needed to be ready—ready to admit that he’d been an ass hat. Ready to beg for her forgiveness. Ready to take what could well be the biggest gamble of his life.
****
“And you thought that red sequined dress at Walmart was too revealing.” Her sister snickered and pointed.
Jenn didn’t answer right away. She was too busy gaping at the costume Jake had sent over for her to wear. She’d pulled it out of the box and laid it on her bed. Star-spangled blue briefs and a red and gold bustier?
“What on earth was Jake thinking? I can’t be Wonder Woman.”
“Sure you can.” Jess, ever supportive, encouraged her. “Just put it on.”
“It’s sweatshirt weather out there. I’ll freeze my ass off.”
“Relax. There’s a cape.” Grinning, Jess rummaged in the box and came out with a swath of fabric.
Jenn inspected the red, white and blue cape. Ankle-length, it would provide some coverage, at least from the back. She draped it over her arm and eyed the rest of the costume. “I should be glad Jake sprang for the deluxe version.”
Jess held out the red knee-high boots, bracelets and gold tiara. “It’ll be fun.”
“For you, maybe.” Her twin would know exactly how to work the outfit. “I’ll just be awkward.”
Jess rolled her eyes. “If you’re seriously too uncomfortable to wear it, I suppose I could go in your place.”
“Tempting, but no. Pretending is what got me into this mess.” She was too smart to repeat that mistake. Besides, she couldn’t pass up the chance to be close to Greg again, if only for a few hours. “I’ll just have to pull on those skimpy superhero panties and do it.”
“You think that’s skimpy?” Jess giggled. “Try running around in thigh-high stockings and a thong.”
“No way.” The mere thought made her shudder. “I just hope Greg had the foresight to order heat for the tent.”
“He strikes me as a smart man—everywhere except where you’re concerned. I’m sure he did.”
Twenty minutes later, Jenn climbed into Jake’s limo. Since she was dressed as Wonder Woman, she had to wonder why the car arrived disguised as the Batmobile.
Ah well. She’d never understand Jake’s whims. She didn’t have to. She pitied Greg for all the years he’d spent trying to figure them out. Pleasing Jake Bartlesby was a full-time job.
Jess was right about one thing: Playing dress-up was kind of fun. Empowering, even. She felt as if she had the Amazon warrior princess’s strength and courage.
Good thing. She’d need every ounce of both to give Greg the apology he deserved.
Chapter Twenty
Like Superman in his Fortress of Solitude, Greg surveyed the crowd from the dais at one end of the massive tent. His father, dressed as Iron Man, was a kid magnet. They flocked to him…well, like magnets to metal.
Other characters also circulated through the crowd. Aqua Man lurked by the refreshment table, stuffing hors d’oeuvres in his mouth. Batman and Robin held court over a group of pre-teen boys, demonstrating the gadgets in Batman’s utility belt, and Supergirl appeared to be giving a five-year-old a flying lesson.
Female superheroes were grossly underrepresented at this shindig. His father’s secretary, Ellen, was in attendance, but not in costume. She’d claimed she was “too old for such foolishness.” He’d have to track her down to tell her all this “foolishness” was pretty fun. Right now, he couldn’t imagine why he ever thought he was bad with kids. They all seemed to love Superman.
A tug on his cape got his attention. He focused on scrawny, gangly kid who could be anywhere from eleven to fourteen. The boy stared solemnly at him through bug-eyed glasses.
Greg flashed him a smile worthy of Superman. “Hi there. Are you having fun?”
“Sure.”
“I know you’re not really Superman, but do you think Superman has super smarts as well as super strength?”
Now that was a loaded question. Greg needed more information before he answered it. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m supersmart. I need some of Superman’s super strength to keep the school bullies at bay.”
“Get beat up a lot, do you?” He didn’t really need to ask. This poor kid had “target” written all over him. His physical appearance was only strike one. His thrift-store clothes increased the likelihood that everyone picked on him.
He sighed and resettled his oversized glasses. “More often than I’d like. I see the inside of my locker at least three times a week, courtesy of the football team.”
Hell. It was tough being a kid today. “Once is too often.”
“That’s why I need super strength. I thought maybe, if Superman is as smart as he is strong, there might be a chance.”
“Well, kid—”
“Todd.”
“Todd.” Greg nodded. “I hate to say it, but Superman never struck me as the sharpest tool in the shed. He’s more brawn than brains.”
Todd’s shoulders slumped. “I was afraid of that.” He turned away.
“Wait a minute.” He couldn’t leave it at that. A real hero would have some words of wisdom to share.
As the boy faced him again, he racked his brain for the right thing to say. This. This was why he didn’t hang out with kids. The pressure not to warp young minds was enormous—and given his track record, he was likely to do and say exactly the wrong thing. He felt like a super-stupid hero. He took a deep breath. “Kid, it might seem hopeless, but it’s not. It won’t always be like this. School isn’t like the real world. Out there, brains count for just as much as strength.”
Todd’s eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you Mr. Bartlesby, the professional athlete?”
“Yeah.” The recognition swelled his ego a bit. “But I also have a degree in business administration. Athletic ability fades. Your smarts are forever. Someday, those jocks who pick on you could be begging you for a job. Then it’ll be up to you whether you help ’em out or tell ’em to take a hike.”
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