by Debbie Mason
“Logan?” Jenna pressed a hand to her stomach in hopes of keeping a warm, fuzzy feeling at bay. Lord knew she shouldn’t be having the warm fuzzies about another man less than twenty minutes after being dumped by her fiancé. Admittedly, it was kind of Logan to be concerned about her welfare when she was the reason his career might be on the line. And it did feel kind of nice to be looked out for again. When she was younger, her stepfather had looked out for her. At least until Gwyneth had come into his life. The only person Lorenzo ever looked out for was himself.
Now, where had that thought come from? she wondered. Arianna, of course, said it all the time, but not Jenna. She’d never had a truly negative thought about Lorenzo the Louse. Looked like she just did, and it actually felt good to say something derogatory about him. Even if it was just in her head.
“Yeah, it was Logan who texted me.” Shay’s eyes flicked over Jenna, and then she put an arm around her shoulders, guiding her into the pub, which smelled like their famous warm pretzels and craft beer. “Look, I get that you can’t see it right now, but this is the best thing that could’ve happened to you, Jenna. The guy is a loser. He was bound to break your heart one day. If you ask me, it’s better now when there’s no kids involved.”
Less than an hour earlier, Jenna had said more or less the same thing to Kimberly. Although hopefully with a little more sensitivity than Shay. Which wouldn’t be difficult because Jenna had more tact in her baby finger than her best friend had in her entire body. Of course, Jenna couldn’t take credit for her social graces. The exclusive Swiss boarding school she’d been sent to at fourteen—at Gwyneth’s behest—was not only famed for their stringent academics, but their graduates were taught the social graces necessary to converse with world leaders, kings, and queens as well as every upper-class cultural ritual known to mankind. Still, she thought it was a wonder Kimberly hadn’t hit her over the head with the bottle of prosecco when she’d told the hours-old jilted bride that her fiancé had done her a favor.
Jenna rolled her eyes at herself and then at Shay. “Bless your heart. It might have been nice if you’d shared with me how you really felt about Lorenzo before today. Seeing as you’re my best friend and all.”
“Uh-oh. What’s got our Southern belle’s dander up?” asked Cherry, the assistant manager at the Salty Dog. Since Cherry was also Shay’s best friend, Jenna had adopted her as her own BFF. Cherry was a little wild, brash, and outspoken, but also really sweet and kind. And right now Jenna could use some of Cherry’s brand of sympathy rather than Shay’s.
“Lorenzo just dumped me for my stepmother,” she said, her voice catching on a sob. She stood there, head bent, hands at her sides, waiting to be enfolded in Cherry’s sympathetic embrace. Cherry was the one person Jenna could count on for a little compassion. She hadn’t gotten any from her sisters or Shay, and she really could use some right now. The reality of what had happened had finally hit her.
“Thank God. You don’t know how many times I wanted to rip those rose-colored glasses off your face, but Shay wouldn’t let me. She said you’d figure it out before it was too late. If you didn’t come to your senses before next Saturday, I was going to kidnap you. I had a couple guys on board to help me out. At least Gwyneth will be saddled with the loser and not you.”
Jenna swallowed the lump in her throat while sniffing back tears. “As far as best friends go, you two suck,” she said before limping toward the one unoccupied barstool. “And just FYI, I don’t wear glasses or contacts.”
Six feet from the barstool, Jenna was enveloped in a cotton-candy-scented hug from behind. “I’m sorry,” Cherry said. “I’ve been hanging around Shay too long, and I was just so glad I didn’t have to kidnap you. The FBI frowns on that sort of thing, you know.”
Cherry was dating Michael’s former FBI partner. As far as Jenna could tell, the couple was a perfect match, just like Shay and Michael were. Everyone was a perfect match except Kimberly and her fiancé…and Jenna and Lorenzo.
Behind her, she sensed Cherry staring at Shay while nodding at Jenna. “Shaybae.”
“No. I’m not doing a group hug, Cherry. We’re in the middle of a crowded bar. Jenna doesn’t want—” Jenna glanced back at Shay, who then pressed her lips together and walked over. “Fine.” She moved in front of Jenna, wrapping her arms around both her and Cherry. “I’m sorry, okay? I should’ve said something about Lorenzo, but you supposedly have this gift so I thought I must be wrong. And for your sake, I wish I had been wrong about him. I’m sorry he hurt you, Jenna. I really am. I’d go beat him up for you, but it sounds like Logan took care of him.”
“Boys, it looks like the girls are about to put on a show,” said one of the older men at the bar. His friends swiveled on their barstools to face them.
“Great. Are you two happy now?” Shay said, clearly annoyed as she stepped back.
Obviously, it was a rhetorical question that spoke more to Shay’s embarrassment than to Jenna’s mental state. Because while she did feel a little better after the shared hug, she couldn’t find much to be happy about. Other than Logan punching out Lorenzo’s lights. And that reminded her why she was even standing in the middle of the pub. “Can you text Michael and see if he needs me to go to the station and—”
“Wait a sec. Logan Gallagher, our very own Secret Service man, beat up Lorenzo?” Cherry interrupted her.
Jenna gave her a quick nod, hoping against hope to avoid the outrageous comments Cherry was famous for when it came to handsome men.
An intrigued smile turned up the other woman’s burgundy-glossed lips. “This is good. Very, very good. You gotta get back in the saddle right away so those feelings of inadequacy can’t take hold, Jenna. And who better to make you feel like a desirable woman than Tall, Dark, and Deliciously Ripped? He’s perfect, isn’t he, Shay? He’s not dating anyone at—”
Until Cherry mentioned it, Jenna hadn’t felt inadequate. No doubt she would have, once she’d had time to process everything. How could she not feel like she was lacking when Lorenzo dumped her for her much older stepmother, a statuesque, blond bombshell? As though Shay could tell Cherry’s offhand comment had hit its mark, she took Jenna by the arm and shot the other woman a zip it look. “Let’s get you settled at a table and check out your ankle.”
“What? She needs a rebound guy. And if you ask me, there’s no one better than Logan for the job. He’s not only drop-dead gorgeous, he’s strong, kind, and considerate. And have you gotten a look at the size of his hands and feet? Well, I have, and let me tell you, they are big. You know what they say—”
“Would you stop? I don’t want to be thinking about how big Logan’s…hands and feet are, thank you very much.” Shay pulled out a barrel at one of the tables, directing Jenna to sit.
Shay’s uncle Charlie had decorated the pub to resemble a pirate ship. The floors and walls were cedar and gave off a warm, fragrant scent. There was a raised stage at the far end of the room, a dance floor, and at least twenty tables with barrels serving as chairs. The cedar walls were decorated with muskatoons, ropes, and swords, one of which was reputed to have belonged to William Gallagher, Michael’s and Logan’s great-grandfather many times over, who was rumored to have been a pirate. It was purportedly where the family’s wealth had come from.
Where there wasn’t a weapon, there were framed photos of Charlie and his staff dressed as famous pirates. The waitresses wore serving wench costumes in green and burgundy, like the one Cherry had on. Only Cherry’s revealed more leg and chest than anyone else’s. On purpose, of course. Unlike Shay, who refused to go along with her uncle’s pirate fantasy and wore her uniform of black T-shirt, jeans, and high-heeled, butt-kicking boots.
Shay helped out at the bar on weekends to give Charlie a break. During the week, she split her time between counseling women who’d served time in prison and their children and doing investigative work for several high-powered attorneys.
“Cherry, why don’t you get Jenna a mimosa float and some of those gril
led veggie pretzel crisps?”
“No prob. You want anything else, Jellybean?”
“Maybe just the mimosa float. I don’t think I could eat anything, thanks,” Jenna said, her stomach turning when Shay removed her glass shoe and Jenna’s foot began to throb. Obviously, the pressure of the shoe had kept the pain at bay.
“Grab an ice pack while you’re at it, Cherry,” Shay called after the woman while propping Jenna’s foot on a barrel and then joining her at the table. “I don’t have to tell you to ignore sixty percent of what Cherry says, do I? Because having a one-night stand with any man, least of all Logan, is a really bad idea.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not planning to hit on Logan. He’d never be interested in someone like me anyway.” Even though it was true, she knew it was the wrong thing to say to Shay, whose gray eyes narrowed. “I’m just being honest. I know exactly where I fit in the scheme of things, and it’s not with a man who is a ten. Look where that got me with Lorenzo.”
“You know what your problem is? You still see yourself as that twelve-year-old kid who didn’t fit in,” Shay said.
“You didn’t fit in either.”
“But it didn’t bother me like it did you.”
“Probably because you were gorgeous even back then, and I was far from it,” Jenna said.
“You don’t have to look at me like that. It’s hard enough to be dumped a week before your wedding, but to be dumped for your stepmother…”
She fought back the tears welling in her eyes and cleared them from her throat. “Whether you believe me or not, I’m a confident person, and I’m generally happy with who I am. I don’t put a lot of stock in looks. But this, well, it would shake most women. At least average women like me. I’ll get through it though. With a little help from my mimosa float,” she said when Cherry returned to the table with her drink and an ice pack.
“I went a little lighter on the vanilla ice cream and white chocolate sprinkles and heavier on the champagne,” Cherry said.
Jenna gave her a thumbs-up. “Good call.”
“You’re needed at the bar, Shaybae,” Cherry said, shooing her away. Once Shay headed somewhat reluctantly to the bar, Cherry leaned across the table. “Okay, whatever she said, ignore it. She hasn’t got a clue what she’s talking about. How could she, right? The woman is a twelve without makeup. You and me though, we’re a six on a good day. And let me tell you, Jellybean, there is nothing wrong with being a six if you know how to work it. And Auntie Cherry is going to teach you how to work it. Because trust me, the only way to get over a man is to find another one.”
She cupped her chin in her hand and looked around the bar. “Pickings are a little slim right now, but the day is young and the night is long.” She glanced at Jenna with a look in her eyes that made her nervous. Jenna drained the mimosa float because of it and then nearly choked on a chocolate sprinkle when Cherry said, “I’ve never given you a striptease lesson before, have I?”
Cherry had worked as an exotic dancer in Las Vegas before moving to Harmony Harbor. “No, and I don’t think today would be a good day to learn.” Jenna nodded at her foot on the barrel.
Cherry bent over to lift the ice pack. “Doesn’t look bad at all. A couple more mimosas, another hour or so of rest, ice, compression, and elevation, and you’ll be as good as new. Trust me, Auntie Cherry knows all.”
Jenna might love Cherry as a best friend, but she absolutely did not trust the woman when it came to her idea of how to mend a broken heart, and she made a mental note to limit herself to one mimosa float. It was a well-known fact that Jenna was a lightweight when it came to holding her own against fancy, sweet drinks. And after the day she’d had, Jenna just might be susceptible to Cherry’s more outrageous healing-a-broken-heart ideas.
“Where is my stepsister?”
Jenna looked up at the sound of Arianna’s sharply pitched voice. Or, as Jenna thought of it, her murderous voice. She slunk down on the chair, but Serena spotted her. Serena nudged Arianna, who whipped around and immediately marched toward their table. Jenna got a squeamish feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’d had plenty of experience reading her oldest stepsister’s moods, and the way her eyes and lips were narrowed suggested Jenna was about to receive a piece of her mind, which was as sharp as Arianna’s tongue. At the moment, Jenna’s mind obviously wasn’t because she couldn’t figure out why Arianna was mad at her.
Cherry rested her elbow on the table, placing a hand over her eyes. She shook her head. “Here we go. She’s got her bi-at-ch face on. I’m telling you, that woman needs to get laid.”
“Please don’t share that with her. It’s better just to let her rant, okay?” Jenna said, preparing herself for the mental pummeling she had no doubt was about to come when the two women reached the table.
Arianna crossed her arms, Serena following suit. They stared down at her, faces pinched. “I’m sorry you got dragged into it,” Jenna felt compelled to say, even though her stepsisters had managed to make the situation so much worse. If not for Arianna, Logan wouldn’t have punched Lorenzo.
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Jenna. Our reputations are now at risk thanks to you and that…that Italian gigolo.”
Cherry twisted on the barrel to look at Jenna’s stepsisters. “Maybe I missed something, but the gigolo didn’t break up with one of you a week before your wedding, did he? He didn’t cheat on you with your stepmother or destroy the dream wedding you’ve been planning since you were ten, did he?”
“I’m really not in the mood to listen to you defend my stepsister, Cherry. Serena and I were photographed in handcuffs and have just come back from being grilled at the police station and slapped with a restraining order, while Jenna’s sitting at the bar drinking. I can’t afford to lose business because of this.” Her sister’s eyes went wide, and she slowly lowered herself onto the barrel whispering, “The deposits.”
“Cherry, would you mind getting drinks for me and my sisters?” Jenna asked. Arianna looked as if she were suddenly carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
The other woman nodded and got to her feet, mouthing, Holler if you need me.
“Are you okay?” Serena asked, putting a hand on her sister’s shoulder.
Arianna buried her face in her hands. “We handled all the deposits for Jenna’s wedding. It’s too late to get the money back.” Her voice was muffled, but Jenna had made out the gist of it.
“You don’t have to worry about the deposits, Arianna. I’ll take care of them, and I’ll”—Jenna looked down at the wedding gown her stepsister had spent weeks creating and carefully shuffled the chair closer to the table so Arianna wouldn’t see the blood spatter from Lorenzo’s nose or the bedraggled hem—“pay for the dress, of course.”
Arianna lifted her head from her hands. “And how exactly do you plan to do that, Jenna? You can’t access the money Daddy set aside for your wedding.”
“I know, but I didn’t plan on letting him pay for everything. I have money put away.” She’d set up a special savings account for her wedding the day she’d gotten her first babysitting job. Since she was very young, she’d known exactly how she wanted her wedding and hadn’t wanted to compromise on the vision or ask her stepfather for the money to make her dreams come true. She’d wanted to do it on her own.
“Oh, I see. Well, that’s a relief at least.” Arianna stood up. “Come on, Serena. We’ll see if we can convince the Hartes to lose the photos of us. I’m sure they’ve got better ones of Logan in handcuffs and one of Lorenzo crying over his bloody nose.” The Hartes owned the Harmony Harbor Gazette.
“Logan didn’t get charged, did he?” Jenna asked, crossing her fingers.
“What do you think? Lorenzo was yelling that Logan ruined his beautiful face and…You better add covering the cost of his tux to your list of expenses. We’ll never get the blood out.”
Jenna opened her mouth to tell Arianna to bill Lorenzo, but she knew that would be like trying to get water from a brick. “Of c
ourse. So they charged Logan with assault?”
“He’ll be lucky if that’s all they charge him with. Ryan and Lorenzo were going for attempted murder.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Jenna was about to jump to her feet when she remembered the state of both her dress and her ankle.
“Relax, Jenna,” Serena said. “Michael and Aidan were there to defend Logan. Not that he needed them to, really. Arianna and I shared our version of the event too. I’m sure, once Kimberly sobers up, she’ll corroborate our story. Although she’s being charged with drunk and disorderly.” She looked from Jenna’s empty glass to her face. “Once you’ve finished commiserating with your friends, you should go to the station and give your side of the story. After all, Logan did save you from being hit by the car.”
“I would’ve gone right away, but Logan asked that I stay here while Michael handles things at the station. I’ll go as soon as I get changed. Promise.”
Arianna frowned, as though just noticing Jenna still wore her wedding gown. “Why didn’t you change when you ran back to Tie the Knot?”
“I haven’t been back to the shop. I came here—”
“Oh my God, Jenna! We thought you’d at least think to lock up while we were being hauled off to jail!”
“If we’ve been robbed because of you—” A red-faced Arianna broke off when Serena grabbed her hand, dragging her away.
Cherry, who was carrying a tray of mimosa floats to the table, turned to watch Jenna’s stepsisters race out of the pub. “I guess we don’t need two of these, do we?”
Jenna gestured for the drinks. “Yes, yes, I do. And keep them coming.”
Chapter Four
Three hours after he’d been cuffed and hauled to the station, Logan returned to the scene of the crime.
“Looks like it’s hopping downtown tonight,” Michael said as he parked his Range Rover on Main Street. “At least we know Jenna’s still at the pub, so you don’t have to chase her down. Though, from what Shay said, you might have to sober her up.”