With that, she sat down again and returned to the manuscript in front of her.
Barrett stalked out of her office and slammed the door behind him.
Jenny sat back in her chair, shaking. She was learning to be direct and firm with her staff. It had been a challenge because, until a few months earlier, she was part of that staff as an equal. Though she doubted Barrett Haygood ever thought of her as such. Now she had to assume an administrative role. Truthfully, though, she rather enjoyed her little bouts with Barrett. She came away from each one a bit stronger and more self-assured.
A tap sounded on her door and she called, “Come in.”
Grace, her assistant, leaned against the doorframe. Her eyes were puffy and her nose bright red. “I think I have to go home.”
“Good God, you look awful. Why did you even come in today? Absolutely, go home and take care of yourself. Do you need a ride?”
“No. My husband is going to pick me up. Now that he’s retired, he’s appointed himself my chauffeur. I doubt I’ll be in tomorrow.”
“Stay home and rest until you’re better. I’ll manage. Just forward your appointment calendar to my email.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Jenny put aside the manuscript and opened her email. She perused the calendar for the week. This afternoon she had an appointment with someone from the New England School of Photography. She had contacted the school to contract a photographer to shoot cover art. Harbor Lights had always contracted out the cover art, but Jenny thought that hiring a student to work in house on a consulting basis would not only save money, but would provide more consistency with the artwork.
She had a lunch appointment with Dr. Sprowls. She had made an appointment with her former psychiatrist for help managing the stress and pressures of her new job. Her new life. She considered cancelling, but wanted to process the earlier interaction she’d had with Barrett. Being assertive was one thing; being a dictator would be another matter. She was still learning the difference.
****
The cool late September day invited a walk through the Public Garden. Jenny stepped outside and drew in a deep breath. As she walked the three blocks to the psychiatrist’s office, she mulled over what she wanted to discuss. Her focus had been on the move back to Boston and her promotion. She had artfully avoided any discussion of Patrick when she spoke with Ashley or Shelly. She reached the office building and hurried inside.
Margaret Sprowls smiled and ushered her into the bright, comfortable office. “Please, come in.”
“I hope you’re not giving up your lunch break to see me today.”
“Not at all. I’ll have lunch after we talk.”
Jenny removed her jacket and dropped it onto the sofa, then sat down. “So, it’s been a wild morning. The editor I told you about last time—Barrett Haygood—is on the warpath. Totally determined to make my life a living hell.”
“How are you handling it?”
“That’s what I want to talk about. I think I’m being assertive, but I want to make sure I’m not defensive and coming down too hard on him.”
She described the interactions she had had with Barrett in the course of the week, leading up to this morning’s confrontation.
Margaret Sprowls listened and affirmed Jenny’s attempts to handle the belligerent employee. “Sounds like you’re doing a fine job. You’re just not completely comfortable with being the boss over an older employee. You’ll get the hang of it in time. What else is happening? Outside of the office.”
Jenny shifted in her seat. “Not much. I hope to drive up to Miley’s Cove for a weekend, visit some old friends and see the changing leaves.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I invited Gavin to go with me, but it’s hard for him to get away for a weekend. You know, with mass.”
“You and Gavin have grown very close.”
Heat flared in her cheeks. “It’s not like that.”
“Like what?”
“He’s just a friend. He’s a priest.”
Dr. Sprowls sat back in her chair and steadied her gaze on Jenny. “Want to know what I think?”
Jenny frowned at her. “No, but you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“He’s safe.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you can create the illusion of having a man in your life because you have Gavin. But he’s safe. There can’t be anything more than friendship between the two of you.”
“That’s absurd. You make it sound like I’m interested in him romantically.”
“Would it be so hard to imagine romanticizing your relationship with him? You have, from what you’ve told me, a good-looking man whose company you enjoy and who listens to you. He’s kind and considerate and he cares about you. The only thing missing is the physical intimacy.”
“Well, that’ll never happen.”
Dr. Sprowls lifted an eyebrow. “How do you know?”
Panic seized Jenny. Was she in love with Gavin? Or lusting after him, wanting more than the relationship they now shared? “We would never go that far.”
The woman leaned forward. “I’m not suggesting you would. I’m raising a question. How will you ever know when you’re ready to move into a new relationship if you hide behind your friendship with Gavin?”
“I’m not—” Jenny stopped and closed her eyes. She thought of the guy who tried to strike up a conversation with her last week at Starbucks. She had brushed him off without so much as a second glance. Then, later that evening, she assuaged her loneliness by calling Gavin on his private line and talking for over an hour about nothing.
“You’re not?”
“I’m not hiding. I may lean a bit more on Gavin right now, but he’s more than willing to let me lean on him. I’ll know when I’m ready for a relationship with someone. And, no, it won’t be Gavin. He’s off limits, and I know that. He’s like… like the brother I never had.” She glanced up at the clock and then stood. “Look at the time. I need to get back to the office.”
“You want to schedule for week after next?”
Jenny frowned. “I don’t know. Are you going to continue this inquisition into my love life?”
Dr. Sprowls grinned. “Probably.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll have to check my schedule and call. My assistant is off sick right now.”
“I’ll keep a slot open two weeks from today.”
Jenny shook her head. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re like a pit bull at times?”
“I like to consider my tenacity a caring follow-through with my patients.”
Jenny laughed and gave the woman a hug before exiting the office. As she made her way back through the garden to the Harbor Lights offices, she considered what the doctor had suggested. Gavin did provide a male ‘fix’ of sorts for her. She enjoyed his company over dinner, for conversation, and the occasional movie they attended together. And she suddenly wondered how he was reading the relationship? Did Gavin think there was more to it than friendship? Had she misled him, too? It wasn’t impossible for a priest to fall in love. Was it?
****
Jenny sat at her desk and glanced at the clock. She had five minutes before her appointment with the new photographer. Just enough time to return a call to one of her editors. As she hung up the phone, someone tapped on her door and called out, “Hello?”
“Oh, I’ll be right there. One minute.” She rustled through papers on her desk, looking for a name. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mr.…er…I don’t know your—”
“Jenny?”
Jenny sucked in her breath. “What are you doing here?”
Patrick filled the doorway. “I’m here for the photography job. The school sent me. I thought you were in L.A.”
“I was for about three days. I… Ashley took the West Coast job, and I was promoted to her position. I thought you were in Santa Barbara.”
“Changed my mind. I wanted to stay closer to family and to Miley’s Cove.” He shifted on his f
eet. “Sorry if this awkward. I can have the school send someone else.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Unless it’s awkward for you.”
“Not at all. It’s a job. Should we sit down and talk about what it entails?”
“Oh, yes. Please, come in. Sorry you had to wait.” She needed to sit and to get something like her desk between them. The rush of desire to walk into his arms nearly overwhelmed her. She closed her office door and rounded the desk to sit facing Patrick, struggling to get her breathing under control. “So, you’re studying photography here in Boston.”
“I am.”
Silence hummed between them.
Jenny toyed with a pen on her desk. “How’s Kari? Do you have her here with you?”
“Of course. She’s doing great. We have an apartment in the South End.”
“We?”
“Kari and I. She’s with the sitter. I hired someone full-time. Kari likes her, and Angie adores Kari. She even has Kari speaking Italian. How about you?”
“Oh. I…uh…I took over the lease on Ashley’s condo on Marlborough in the Back Bay.”
“Nice neighborhood.”
“I know it’s a little pricey, but it was easy to move right in and it keeps the condo for her in case she decides to move back here. ” She studied him for a moment. “You look good.”
“I am good. It was rough, at first, with everything happening so fast. But I have a routine and people I can count on.”
The last words hit her like a slap. He should have been able to count on her. “Before we go any further, I need to apologize for the way I left after your dad died. I could have stuck around for few days, I suppose.”
“A few days? Is that what you thought I wanted?”
“But you said—”
Patrick held up a hand. “It’s probably better if we don’t go back there. Why don’t you tell me about the job?”
She nodded. “You’re right. We want to start producing covers in-house, rather than using stock photos. And we want our covers to reflect real people, so we’ve made arrangements with a local modeling agency to provide models. We’d like to have our covers shot in and around Boston, since that’s where Harbor Lights Publishing was established.”
“Will you give me some ideas about what you want for each cover?”
“Yes. The editor will provide an art sheet, a summary of the key points of the book and a few suggestions and author preferences. I have the final say on what goes on the cover, however. But you’ll have some latitude in terms of the photos you shoot.”
He grinned. “You’re the big boss, then?”
Jenny shrugged. “Not the big boss. That would be Edgar Carlson. I am the boss around here. Is that a problem?”
“No.” He chuckled. “You were bossing me around when you were four years old. Why should it be a problem now?”
Something shifted between them and an easiness slid into the place the awkwardness had occupied. Jenny smiled. “And you were always so obedient. This should be easy.”
“Oh, no. I’m not that naïve boy who was told to let you have your way because you were a girl and you were younger. Won’t fly now.”
“You let me have my way? Oh, please.” She laughed and then sobered when she saw his expression. “What?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you laugh like that. It looks good on you. Sounds good, too.”
She bit her bottom lip and glanced away from his gaze. It felt good to laugh with Patrick. Natural. Just as it would feel to get up and walk into his arms. She had to keep this professional. Turning back to face him, she said, “I have three books that will need cover shots. I can get those summaries and suggestions to you tomorrow, if that works.”
He stared at her for a moment before responding. “Sure. That works. I can pick them up, just give me a time.”
“I’ll be in meetings most of the day. I’ll leave the package down at the security desk. If you have any questions, here’s my card with this line and my cell number.” She opened a desk drawer and removed a packet of papers. “Here’s the contract. Why don’t you take it with you and look it over. If it works for you, just sign it and leave one copy when you pick up the info. If you have any questions, you can reach me tonight on my cell.”
“Okay.” He stood. “I guess we’re done then.” He leaned across the desk as if he was going to kiss her. Instead, he picked up the pen in front of her and another of her business cards. “Here’s my cell number, in case you don’t still have it.” He set the card and pen in front of her, picked up the contracts, and strode out of the office.
Jenny swiveled her desk chair and pressed her forehead to the window, watching for him to exit the building. Even from ten stories up, she could spot him on the street below. He trotted across the street and turned the corner. She sat back in her chair, still shaken from the encounter.
****
By the end of the week, Patrick had left a message that he had photographs for her to review. She had Grace schedule a time for him to meet with her. As the afternoon approached, Jenny became acutely aware of the anxiety that gnawed at her stomach. She jumped when her phone buzzed and Grace announced Patrick’s arrival.
“Send him to the conference room. I’ll be right there.” She stood and ran her hands down the skirt she had worn, straightening the wrinkles. Two of the guys had already made cracks about her giving her legs some air. She generally wore pants because she found them more comfortable and practical. She told herself the choice of a dress on this day was simply an effort toward diversity. Improving her professional image.
Patrick sat at his laptop, scrolling through a slideshow of photographs that projected onto the drop-down white screen in the front of the room. The images of Boston Harbor and the coastal areas north of the city brought Jenny to a standstill. They were breathtaking.
Patrick looked up when she approached. “I was just setting up a PowerPoint presentation.” He stood and pulled out a chair for her. “Sit down.”
As the images flashed on the screen, Patrick gave her the details of where and when the photos had been taken. He had everything from sweeping landscapes and seascapes to seaside cottages, men and women in silhouette on the beach at sunset, and sailboats languorously gliding through deep green water.
He left the final shot on the screen—a picture of a woman with a little girl, sitting in the sand and building a castle. “Well, what do you think?”
She stared at the photograph. “They’re amazing.” Then she looked at him. “I’m stunned.”
He smiled. “I thought your cover designer could use some of those images of the tall ships in the harbor and do an overlay image to create covers for some of the historical romance novels you have lined up. I can take some shots of models in period dress, if you want. We use models from the Actors Institute, and they work very reasonably.”
She laughed. “They’ll have to if they’re going to work for us. Cover art is important, but it’s not a high budget item right now.”
He stood and picked up a large black leather portfolio. “I think I have some prints in here of work I’ve done with some of the students at AI.” He flipped the binder open on the table.
Jenny stood and moved beside him.
“Here are some shots I did for a Renaissance Faire. See how that could be overlayed with another background to create a period piece?”
She nodded. “You’re very good at this. Frankly, I’ve seen work from established professionals that doesn’t come close to this.”
He flipped a page and leaned over her, pointing at the photograph. “Here’s what I mean. I Photoshopped a couple of these and played with some ideas.”
His breath swept across her ear and she shivered. She turned her face to speak, but the words were lost when she looked directly into his eyes. She blinked before returning her gaze to the photographs. “I see what you mean. Looks like I could fire the art department and just hire you.” She slipped from beneath him. “I’d like yo
u to set up a meeting with Tammy Sutton. She’s the head of graphic art. She’ll tell you exactly what she needs and which of these photos she can use for upcoming covers.”
Patrick straightened and turned off the laptop. “Okay. So, uh—”
She hustled toward the door before Patrick could finish his sentence. The sexual tension that sparked between them could have set the conference table on fire. “I have to run to another meeting. If you have any questions, just give me a call.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
That evening, Jenny was settling down to read a manuscript when the phone rang. She answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hi. It’s me. Patrick.”
“It’s kind of late. Everything okay?” she asked.
“You said I should call if I had a question.”
“Yes. What is it?”
“I had a date this evening.”
“Okay. I’m not sure what to say about that. I hope it went well.”
“It didn’t.” He heaved a sigh. “She’s a nice girl. The niece of Kari’s sitter. She told me something I already knew, but wouldn’t admit.”
“What’s that?”
“She told me there’s a woman somewhere who has my heart.”
Jenny bit her lip, waiting for what would come next.
“We both know who that is. And, so, I have just one question.”
“Y-Yes?”
“Is there still a chance for us?”
It wasn’t the question she expected to hear. When she didn’t answer, Patrick asked, “Jenny, are you there?”
“I…uh…I’m here. I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything. Just listen. Life brought us together when we were just kids. And circumstances brought us back together again. Do you really believe it’s an accident we both ended up in Miley’s Cove last year and in Boston now?”
Gavin’s words came roaring back: ‘I don’t believe in coincidence. I like to think all things happen for a purpose.’ “I don’t know what to believe.”
“I know what I believe. You and I are meant to be together. Life brings us together and one or the other—or both of us—screws it up. I don’t want to screw it up again. I want to know if we have a chance.”
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