by Debbie Mason
The phone stopped ringing. He must’ve gotten tired of waiting. No, she thought when the phone rang again, only this time for a FaceTime call. He must want something from her if he was bringing out his best and biggest gun—his handsome face.
“Wish me luck, Pippa.” She smiled when the bird’s head came up, and she gave a weak peep. “You’re going to prove to them you’re so much tougher than you look, aren’t you, girl? Quit stalling,” she told herself, and hit Accept.
“Oh, my sweet bella, look what I have done to you.”
She glanced at herself on the screen and then casually moved her arm, holding out the phone at a more flattering angle. “You better be on your way back here with my car and my money or you’re going to have far worse than a swollen nose, Lorenzo.”
“I was in fear for my life. I had no choice. You must see this, sì? That Gallagher man, he is most dangerous.”
“Yes, he is. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll do as I asked and drop the charges against him. And you can do that when you bring my money and car back to Harmony Harbor.”
He brushed her off with a wave of his hand. “I have called to warn you about Arianna. She is blackening your name, saying the most terrible of things about you.”
“I don’t blame her. She thinks I’m an idiot for falling for you and your lies, and she’s right. Besides, she’s calling you a lot worse. And that’s nothing compared to what people will be calling you after Byron and Poppy Harte’s tell-all about you.”
“Who are these Harte people of which you speak?” In the background, she heard a woman’s aggravated whisper and caught sight of blond hair. “Sì, sì, mi amore, I will, but first—” As though he knew the jig was up, he waved his hand behind him and gave Jenna a slick smile. She wondered how she had ever fallen for him. “I apologize. It was just the maid. Now, we must talk about your sister. She sent me the most terrible of messages from your phone.”
“My sister didn’t send you a text. I did.”
“No, you don’t understand, bella. She said you had relations with the craven beast who did this to me.”
“I had sex on the beach with Logan Gallagher, and it was flipping amazing. Everything I wrote in that text is true. Not only does he have a magical penis, his hands are magical too. Everything about the man is—”
“You…you puttana!” He spat the words, spittle landing on the screen. Behind him came a frantic whisper. Jenna was impressed. Whatever Gwyneth said caused Lorenzo to do a one-eighty. Nevertheless, it took him a few seconds to smooth the anger from his face. He replaced it with a contrite smile and wiped at the screen. “I apologize. It is not easy to hear that you were with another man.”
“Excuse me while I throw up at your hypocrisy.”
His face tightened, and then he jerked as though someone hit him from behind. Once again, he managed to smooth the fury from his face, this time replacing it with a regretful smile. “I understand that I hurt you, bella. But surely we can work this out among ourselves. We settle this now, sì? No need for this talk of lawyers. I will put half the money back in your account—”
She stared at him. How had she not seen him for who he really was? But as she asked herself the question, she had a sick feeling she knew the answer. She’d wanted the handsome husband and fairy-tale wedding so badly that she’d closed her eyes to what had been right in front of her all along. If that was true though, why hadn’t her father forced her to see the light? He’d never said a negative word against Lorenzo. And Richard Bell was a smart man. Who hadn’t seen through Gwyneth either.
Jenna pushed her hair from her sweaty face and blew out a breath. “You don’t want me to get a lawyer involved, I won’t.”
A genuine smile spread across his face. “This is why I loved you, bella. You are so good and kind.”
She got a vivid image of herself wearing a neon sign around her neck that read SUCKER. He’d seen her coming from a mile away. “Let’s see if you feel that way when I give you my conditions. There’s a few, so you might want Gwyneth to take notes. Are you ready, Gwynne?” She smiled. Her stepmother hated when Richard had called her that.
“Okay, so first up, you drop the charges against Logan Gallagher. Second, you return my car and all my money. Third, Gwyneth comes clean about the fake will and returns my company to me. Stop yelling, or you won’t hear the rest of my proposition.”
Lorenzo was red-faced and sweaty after delivering his tirade, but nodded, as did Gwyneth, who was no longer pretending she wasn’t there. “If you do everything I’ve asked, I’ll sell Southern Belle to you both at a discounted price, and, Lorenzo, I’ll give you your ring back.”
When they both began adamantly shaking their heads, Jenna said, “Okay, see you in court. And just FYI, my lawyer is going to make you wish you took the deal. Lorenzo, enjoy Charleston and your sugar mama as long as you can. I have a feeling you’ll be headed back to Italy real soon. And not for a vacay. Ciao.”
Whoever said revenge was sweet was wrong. Did it feel good to look Lorenzo and Gwyneth in the eyes and stay strong and say what she had to say? Of course it did, though it might’ve felt better if she’d fixed her hair a little before accepting the call. Because despite his swollen nose, her ex looked like he stepped off a Paris runway, and Gwyneth, with a much sexier case of bedhead than Jenna’s, looked like she’d spent the last couple of hours welcoming him home and had a gorgeous afterglow.
And there was no doubt Jenna would feel better if she could get her money and car back and knew for sure Logan’s career wouldn’t suffer. But Lorenzo and Gwyneth took something precious from her that no lawyer, no matter how good, could get back. They’d stolen her innocence. Her belief that people were inherently good. How would she ever be able to trust that someone was being truthful with her? If someone told her they loved her, would she ever believe them?
As though the universe decided she needed a reminder that there were still good, decent, trustworthy men out there, her phone pinged with an incoming text. It was from Logan, checking in to make sure she and Pippa were okay.
Chapter Twelve
Jenna’s reinvention of herself from a starry-eyed romantic to her sisters’ pragmatic employee at Tie the Knot was going reasonably well considering she was a reformed believer in happily-ever-afters working at a business that specialized in them. It made it somewhat easier that Arianna reinforced Jenna’s newly acquired cynicism on an hourly basis and that, so far, she hadn’t been dealing with the clients. Her duties consisted of coffee runs, updating Tie the Knot’s woefully outdated website, and ensuring the services they outsourced were on budget and on time.
Arianna opened the door to Jenna’s office, aka the storage room, and peeked her head inside. And peeking her head inside was pretty much all she could do. The quarters were too cramped to hold Jenna and a desk and her sister at the same time. Jenna had to walk sideways when she left her desk and usually ended up covered in sparkles and feathers regardless because Arianna stored the high-end fabric and embellishments in the space. The fabrics were the reason Jenna had called her stepsister back from the front of the shop.
A tiny peep reminded Jenna who was sitting on her desk in a cozy little bed of satin remnants. Over the past couple of days, Pippa had shown a marked improvement but wasn’t quite ready to be released into the wild, sort of like Jenna, she supposed. So it wasn’t exactly the best time for her stepsister to discover Jenna had a companion of the feathered variety living under her roof.
“I’ll be right with you,” Jenna said, all efficient CFO. She was more like girl Friday, but she’d given herself a title to aspire to. Surreptitiously, she elbowed a file folder over Pippa’s bed, clearing her throat to cover the peep. Pippa was beginning to show signs she was a baby bird who knew her own mind, which Jenna loved but could’ve done without at the moment. Pippa headbutted the file off her nest. Jenna casually slid her elbow across the desk to block Arianna’s view of the bird. She tapped the printer with her pen, which until then she ha
dn’t realized was a chocolate-scented heart pen. Old habits died hard. “Sorry. I’m out of paper. I’m sure you have things to do. I’ll bring the printouts up to you in a few minutes.”
“How big is the discrepancy?”
“Big enough that I didn’t believe it was accidental and pulled up your old invoices. You’ve overpaid them by thousands of dollars, Arianna.”
“I’ve been buying my lace from them for years. I can’t believe it was intentional.”
“Everything jibed up until sixteen months ago, and then there’d be a small miscalculation here and there until it wasn’t so small.”
“I’m impressed, Jenna. I truly had no idea you were so business savvy. That sounds silly given Southern Belle’s success, but I always thought it was more due to Daddy and, though I hate to admit it, Gwyneth’s involvement than yours. I’m sorry for underestimating you. It makes me even more anxious to get the will overturned for your sake. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to Tie the Knot. It’s my life.” She smiled. “Great job, and I mean that. If we recoup the money, and it’s as much as you think, you’ll have covered your deposits at the very least. It’s Friday. We should go to the Salty Dog to celebrate.”
The week had gone by so fast that she’d forgotten it was Friday—the night before what would’ve been her wedding day. She wondered if Arianna remembered that they’d planned to have the rehearsal party at the pub. Lorenzo hadn’t been a fan of the idea, but Jenna had wanted something casual and fun. She’d also wanted to support her best friend’s family business.
She saw the moment her sister remembered. “I wasn’t thinking. Sorry, Jenna. We can do something else, or if you’d rather stay in and have—”
“Don’t be silly. We’ll go to the pub. You’re signing the loan renewal with the bank. It’s a big deal. We need to celebrate.”
Clearly frustrated, Arianna tapped her forefinger and index finger on her forehead. “What is wrong with me today? My appointment is at two, and Faith Fourburger is coming in with her fiancé to sign off on her wedding dress, bridesmaids’ dresses, and the tuxes.” She pulled out her phone. “Did Serena tell you when she’d be back?”
“No. I thought she was still here.” The muscle in her forearm was beginning to cramp, and Jenna shuffled her chair over so she didn’t have to lean as far across her desk to hide Pippa from Arianna’s view.
Her stepsister stabbed the keys on her iPhone. “She’d better respond, or I’ll go down to HHPD and have words with Chief Benson about his officer. I bet they have a morality clause in their contracts, and it’s immoral for Ryan to be chasing after Serena when he’s a married man.”
Serena and Ryan’s situation was an unpleasant reminder of her own mother and stepfather’s relationship, not only to Jenna but, based on the furious intensity with which Arianna struck the keys, to her stepsister as well. Unless Jenna wanted to deal with cutting remarks about her mother, she couldn’t suggest that Serena might share some blame. She knew Ryan was a married man.
The happiness brought about by Arianna’s earlier praise dissipated, leaving behind a dull and depressing weight. Jenna didn’t like to think of her mother as the bad guy in the situation, the home wrecker Arianna and Serena had always made her out to be. But it was hard to fight against the evidence. It didn’t mean she loved her mother any less. Nothing or no one would ever change how she felt about either her mother or her stepfather. She just wished things had played out differently. Maybe if they had she wouldn’t have to work so hard to win her stepsisters’ love.
“I’ll see if they can change my appointment at the bank.”
“No. Don’t do that. I can handle your appointment with Faith Fourburger and her fiancé. I’m the one who drew up the contract and orders, so it’s not like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Arianna chewed on her thumbnail. “I guess.”
“It really isn’t a big deal, Arianna. And I’m a little surprised you’re making it one.” And hurt. She’d worked so hard this week to prove to them she was competent. A few moments ago, she thought she’d succeeded.
“Well, it kind of is a big deal. Or I should say Faith is. She’s the reason we got the spread in Wedding Bells magazine, and she’s the reason we’ve had an uptick in interest from the Boston elite. She could make our reputation, Jenna. We’ve never had a client as big as Faith.”
“I had an extremely wealthy and socially mobile clientele at Southern Belle. You can check our reviews online. They were overwhelmingly positive, and I was the one they were dealing with, not Gwyneth.”
Jenna was all about the warm and fuzzy. And no offense to her stepsister, but Arianna was hardly the one to give clients the warm and fuzzies, which she proved by pointing at the adorable little puff ball that had wobbled over to peck at Jenna’s chocolate-scented pen and saying in a horrified voice, “What is that?”
Jenna considered going with What’s what? but decided that would only tick her stepsister off. “A rescue bird. Her name’s Pippa, and I promise you’ll never know she’s here.” Pippa peeped, and Jenna smiled. “She says hi, Auntie Arianna.”
* * *
After the Pippa incident, Jenna thought she might’ve blown her chance to wow Faith Fourburger with her amazing customer service ability and have the wealthiest woman in Boston singing her praises, which would hopefully result in Jenna’s sisters finally taking her seriously and allowing her to partner with them.
“One step at a time,” she told herself as she arranged a lovely sterling-silver tea tray on the small table beside the chaise. She’d decided it provided the right amount of warmth, luxury, and professionalism for Faith and her fiancé to sit on the chaise with Jenna across from them on a pretty vintage chair rather than signing the papers at the antique reception desk.
She looked around the front of the shop to ensure everything looked just so. She’d left Pippa in her office. Instead of the makeshift nest, she’d created a makeshift playpen. She couldn’t wait for Logan to see the pictures she’d sent him. It was the first time Pippa had stood, and Jenna felt like a proud parent. But Logan probably wouldn’t be able to respond until later that evening because Princess Isabella and her entourage had arrived Wednesday.
He was playing tour guide as well as head of security. Jenna had given him some tips on protocol and suggested places the princess might be interested in seeing. Since Jenna had made it clear to him that she was over the fairy-tale thing, he teased her about her obsession with everything the princess was doing, saying, and wearing.
But come on, you didn’t have to believe in fairy tales or happily-ever-afters to be interested in the comings and goings of a royal. For goodness’ sake, they opened Kate Spade, Tory Burch, and Rag & Bone for the princess after hours, and she was staying at the Jefferson in a luxury suite. Jenna had begged Logan to snap a photo of what Her Royal Highness bought, but instead he sent her a you scare me emoji, as though she were a stalker. He’d sent the same emoji when she asked him to take a photo of the tiara.
Out of habit, Jenna checked her phone, smiling when she saw the bubble and the dot-dot-dot of him typing a response.
Cute. You missed your calling. You should be designing baby bird furniture.
Ha! And you put the secretive in Secret Service. Give me a hint what you’re up to today. Pretty please. She added a praying hands emoji. She knew from following the princess’s official Twitter account that they’d spent the earlier part of yesterday at George Washington’s Mount Vernon estate and in the evening attended a special dinner in the princess’s honor at the French embassy.
Jenna nearly dropped the phone when a photo of Logan and the princess appeared. They’d taken a selfie. They were in formal wear. Logan looked absolutely stunning in his tux, the princess equally stunning in a gown with long gloves…and her tiara!
Hey, you still there?
Yes!! I can’t believe you got her to take a selfie for me…and she’s wearing her tiara!
I told her you were a big fan and wo
uld also continue being a royal pain in my butt until you got your picture.
You two are looking pretty friendly, Secret Agent Man. Is there anything you’d like to share? Maybe my knight in shining armor is going to turn into a real-life prince? she teased, and then realized they really did look friendly, and happy too. Happy and beautiful. A dull ache expanded in her chest, heavyhearted at the thought. Which was crazy because she was done with men, even amazing men like Logan. It seemed her heart was harder to convince than her head.
You’re slipping, Jellilicious. You’re supposed to be like me, career-focused, not marriage obsessed. And marrying a princess…Yeah, I don’t think so.
He was right. They’d been having conversations along those same lines practically the entire week as Logan tried to keep her on the straight and narrow and off the slippery happily-ever-after slope. Although when they first began having the talk, she’d felt like Logan was letting her know where he stood on love and marriage in case she might’ve gotten the wrong idea after their night at the beach. Which he may have picked up on her supposedly easy-to-read face.
Since he’d laughed about her gift the first time she’d told him, she wasn’t about to tell him that the one-true-love feeling he might’ve seen on her face those two times at the beach wasn’t anything to worry about. As she’d explained, the gift worked for others, not herself.
She scrolled to the photo. I don’t know, Logan. You might want to share with Princess Isabella that you’re a confirmed bachelor. Because from what I can see, she’s looking at you like she might think you’re her one and only.
Jenna’s use of scented heart pens at work wasn’t the only habit she was apparently having a difficult time shaking, she thought as she scrutinized the couple’s selfie for a sign they were meant to be. But the iridescent lighting from the stage behind them stymied her efforts.