“But Garrett said he’d do an interview prevideo and explain you’re doing a favor for him since y’alls concert run struck such a chord with fans.” Natalie shrugged. “Really, Jenna, I was skeptical at first, but it’s a win-win opportunity.”
“She’s thinking about it.” He grinned. “I can tell. In the meantime, anybody going to my Billy Bob’s concert tomorrow night?”
Everyone at the table nodded.
Except the concertgoer he wanted. She ignored him.
“Jenna, you’re not going?” Natalie prodded.
“The only time I ever went to a Garrett Steele concert, it came back to bite me. Think I’ll steer clear.”
His heart landed in the toes of his cowboy boots.
Clay’s wife, Rayna, stepped between Caitlyn and Mitch. “I’m so glad y’all came. We’re so excited about Clay getting inducted.”
“He deserves it. One of the greats.” Lane tipped his hat.
A server set salads in front of Caitlyn and Jenna, then made his way around the rest of the table.
“Thanks. I better get to my seat.” Rayna turned away.
The room quieted as the focus turned to food.
Jenna barely glanced his way again.
* * *
Curled on the cream-colored love seat in her sewing room, Jenna tucked her event program into the protective sleeve in her scrapbook. She arranged her place card bearing her name on the corner of the page above a picture of the cowboy-boot centerpiece.
Had Garrett connected with Sammie after the ceremony? Or after the Billy Bob’s concert last night? Or both?
Flirting with every woman he saw. He couldn’t seem to help himself. No matter who was around to watch. No matter whose heart his antics shattered.
Why was she still thinking about Garrett? She’d told her cousins she didn’t want any concert details. Garrett was officially gone. Out of her life again. Wasn’t that what she wanted?
Maybe she shouldn’t have kept the ceremony memorabilia for her scrapbook. She flipped the album closed, then slipped it back in the shelf. It was supposed to be a reminder of her evening honoring Clay Warren and the other worthy inductees. Not a memory of Garrett.
At least the press had paid her no attention lately. But business was getting back to normal. Steady, but not hopping. Mostly ready-made cowboy couture. Fewer custom orders and even fewer elegant orders. A sea of Western designing lurked in her future.
Her shoulders slumped. Another scrapbook caught her eye. My Dream—spelled out in curlicue writing surrounded by roses, lace and ribbon stickers. She pulled the album and laid it on the coffee table.
Pictures of the Galleria and the space she wanted plus fabric swatches and notes of what she’d carry in her store, along with her custom-made services. The ready-made line had come to life as planned. But at the Stockyards, the line came in at the bottom of her sales.
The doorbell gonged and she hurried to peer through the peephole.
Natalie.
She swung the door open. “What are you doing here?”
“You won’t believe it.” Natalie did a little bounce on the balls of her feet.
“You’re pregnant?”
“Not yet. But I was at the Galleria today. Guess what retail space is up for lease?”
“Oh, don’t tell me.” Jenna clamped her hands over her ears.
“Your dream store. Stop it.” Natalie pulled her hands away. “Have you thought any more about the video?”
“No. No. No.”
“This could be your chance, Jen. It’s like God is lining everything up for you. All you have to do is your part.”
Could this be God’s plan? For her to fulfill her dream? Surely there was another way. In fact, there was. All she had to do was lay down her pride and tap into her trust fund. But she was so proud of the store she’d built on her own. Even if her top seller was branding iron curtain rods.
If she used her trust fund, would she feel as accomplished with her dream store? She couldn’t do it. And she couldn’t torture herself doing a video with Garrett.
“No. No. No.”
“Stop saying that. Do the video, lease the store and design satin confections till your heart’s content.”
Her cell vibrated in her pocket. Saved by the buzz.
“I have to get this.” She dug her phone out.
Garrett.
She closed her eyes.
The scrapbook. The available store. Garrett’s call. Something was definitely lining up. Is this You, Lord?
“I thought you had to get that.” Natalie elbowed her.
“It’s him.”
“Perfect timing—like God set it up.” Natalie grinned. “Tell him you’ll do the video.” She grabbed at the phone. “Or I will.”
Jenna evaded Nat’s grasp and jabbed the talk button. “Hello.”
“Hey, Jenna.” His voice turned her insides into melted butter.
“Hey.”
“I hoped I might see you at the concert. I even had my security guys watching for you.”
“I told you I planned to steer clear.”
“I was still hoping. Anyway, I called to let you know the video is all set. But the production schedule hinges on casting. Have you thought any more about it?”
“I’ll do it.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
Natalie let out a whoop.
“That went a lot easier than I expected. Who is this and what have you done with Jenna?”
“My dream space is available for lease at the Galleria.”
“Oh.” Hurt sounded in his voice.
But he was using her for publicity. Her heart tightened. Why shouldn’t she return the favor?
“I’ll let my production team know. We’ll film at American Airlines Center, so we’ll have to work around their schedule, as well. Anything important on your calendar we need to work around?”
“My schedule’s pretty open.”
“I’ll get back with you on dates, then. And, Jenna, even though we both have ulterior motives, I look forward to working with you.”
“You may live to regret it.” I know I will. “I have no experience with making videos.”
“You’ll be fine, as long as you’re you. The whole world will fall in love with you all over again.”
But she didn’t care about the whole world. She cared only about how Garrett felt about her. Why couldn’t he fall in love with her all over again?
They said good-night and she clutched the phone to her heart. “What am I doing?”
“I’m very proud of you.” Natalie laid a hand on her arm.
“What do I tell Mama?”
“Hmm.” Nat nibbled her lip. “That it’s the pathway to your store. That is why you’re doing it, isn’t it?”
Jenna’s gaze locked with her cousin’s. It was all there. Natalie knew. Yes, she wanted the store, but she also wanted to be with Garrett. “You being his publicist doesn’t mean you don’t have to keep the cousin code.”
“Your secret’s safe with me. Besides, it’s your job to tell Garrett you’re still madly in love with him. Not mine.”
But he wasn’t madly in love with her anymore. And even if he were, she still didn’t want to tag along on his concert tours. Especially with two stores to run.
* * *
Garrett slid into his leather jacket and headed out of makeup. He still had trouble with that concept.
His voice had to hold up. He’d gotten Natalie off his back by seeing his doctor. And downplayed his doctor’s stern warning to rest and let the swelling go down before further testing.
All for this. A week with Jenna.
A glimpse of her in the hall halted his feet. Dressed in her leopard-print top, black jeans and heels with
straps up to her ankles, she was a blast from the Dallas concert. His heart did a giddy two-step just like when he’d caught sight of her in the lobby barely a month ago.
“That shirt brings out golden flecks in your eyes and hair. Like it was made for you.” He swallowed hard. “Stunning.”
“Thanks.” Her cheeks pinked. “Caitlyn sold out and had to order more. Who knew its one showing would make headlines?”
A vision of her in the gold dress from the induction ceremony—onstage while he sang to her—popped into his head. He’d mention it to Nat. “Ready?”
She sucked in a big breath. “No.”
“Don’t be nervous. All you have to do is what you did at the concert that night. Pretend you’re there again. Did you watch the footage last night?” He’d watched so many times, he knew every nuance by heart.
She nodded.
“Then you’re good to go.” He led her toward one of the concession windows, where a crowd milled about.
“Who are all these people?”
“Mostly extras with a few yet-to-be-discovered actors and actresses sprinkled in.”
“There y’all are.” A gray-haired man approached them.
“This is Roger Leon, our director.”
Roger shook Jenna’s hand. “We’ll start in the lobby today and try to get to the stage.”
“Try? That’ll take, like, two minutes.”
“Dear Jenna.” Roger smiled. “I won’t lie—filming this video in one week will be grueling. Camera angles, expressions, stumbles all come into play. You’ll make your lobby run countless times. In fact, you might want to change into tennis shoes.”
“I didn’t bring any.”
“Oh.” Roger scratched his chin. “What size do you wear?”
“Seven and a half.”
“We’ll get you a pair.”
“But I have a perfectly good pair at home. I’ll make do today and wear them back tomorrow.”
Garrett cleared his throat. “You won’t be going home tonight.”
“I won’t?” She stared him down.
Chapter 7
Was Jenna onto his scheme—to do anything to spend time with her?
Garrett cleared his throat again. “Because our schedule is so tight on the video, we’re all staying at the Hyatt this week. We have an entire floor.” And he purposely hadn’t told her because he knew she’d refuse.
“I’ll go home. Each night.”
“If you do that, you’ll have to get up at four o’clock.”
Her shoulders slumped. So not a morning person. He’d known she’d cave when she heard the early hour. Of course, staying at the hotel would only buy her two hours. But he’d share that minor detail with her later. All he wanted was every evening with her. For one week. Candlelight dinners—just talking. And winning her love.
“But I didn’t even bring an overnight bag. I have to at least go home tonight and pack a suitcase.”
“Make a list and I’ll have someone pick up whatever you need.”
“Now that that’s settled, here’s what I need you to do.” Roger went into production mode.
Garrett disconnected from the director’s instructions. A week spent with Jenna. Daily. Holding her hand. Singing to her. Could life get any better?
If only she were here because she wanted to be. Because she wanted to spend time with him. But instead, she was here only to make her dream store come true. Not his dreams.
He’d have to change that. A whole week lay before him. A whole week to lasso her heart.
* * *
Aching feet. Jenna slid her heels off inside the door of her hotel room, didn’t even pause in the living room and headed straight for the bedroom. The queen-size bed cradled her tired bones. The words cut and action would echo in her dreams. A full day of filming and they hadn’t even made it to the stage yet. And this video would take only a week?
Barely a month ago, she’d told herself she’d never meet him at a hotel again. Ever. Here she was staying in that same hotel with him right down the hall. For a whole week.
She could conk out right now fully dressed, makeup still on, despite Garrett’s proximity.
A knock sounded at the door.
Room service? She hadn’t ordered anything. She dragged herself up and her stomach growled as she hurried to the door and squinted through the peephole.
Garrett.
“I come bearing food.”
“I’m not hungry.” She opened the door a crack, but a wheeled cart awaited, holding plates with fancy dome covers. Her stomach growled.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Really?”
“Okay, I’m starved. But almost too tired to eat.”
“We’ll make it fast.” He started to push the cart into the room.
But she didn’t step aside.
“I thought since we’re both eating, we might as well eat together.” He pulled a cover. “I assume you still like your steak medium-well.”
Boy, did she. And the baked sweet potato oozed butter with glistening steamed green beans along with a large slice of pie drizzled with pecans, caramel and fudge. Was that turtle cheesecake? Her heart hitched. He remembered all her favorites.
“If I let you in my room, what will people think?”
“The only people on this floor are my band and staff. They’re not paid to think.”
“I’m not comfortable with it.”
“We’ll pull the dining table into the living room and leave the entry door open.” He waved the cover over her plate.
Steak filled her senses. “Okay.” She stepped aside.
“I thought a man’s stomach was the way to his heart. I’ll have to remember this—it works on Jenna Wentworth, too.”
No. Because Jenna Wentworth’s heart was closed to Garrett Steele. It had to be. Because even if Garrett had changed, even if he was the Garrett she used to know, she could never trust him to settle in Aubrey. And be content.
And she couldn’t live a life on the road—one hotel after another. Not even for Garrett.
* * *
Garrett dredged up every memory he had of when he used to pray over his meals. His words actually sounded pretty good. If only Someone were listening.
As soon as he finished, Jenna popped a bite of steak in her mouth. Her eyes closed.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were hungry? We could have stopped production for a snack.”
“I didn’t want to mess up the schedule.”
Because she didn’t want to prolong this interlude with him. She was here only for her store.
“So tell me, why are you so opposed to using your trust fund for your store?”
“My mother grew up poor. She’s very thrifty and Daddy wasn’t rich when they married. I was a teenager when Wentworth Commercial Real Estate finally hit it big.” She mashed her sweet potato in with the puddle of butter in the middle.
“So when I graduated from design school, she challenged me to try to make it on my own and use the trust fund they’d set up for me as a safety net. That way I’d always have it in case of emergency.”
“Smart woman. My dad has always counseled me to save, save, save, too.”
“I doubt you have to worry about your income.”
“No. But you never know.” He swallowed hard. “I could wake up tomorrow and not be able to sing.”
He wanted to tell her. Share his worries with the woman he loved. Instead of her cousin. But he wasn’t ready to reveal his plans for his rest yet. And Jenna wasn’t ready to hear it.
“I don’t see that happening.” She finished her meal and leaned back in her chair with a big yawn.
If only he could stay, keep her up half the night. Talking. Drowning in her beauty. But she had an ea
rly day ahead of her that she still didn’t know about.
“One more thing and then I’ll let you get some rest.” He lifted the lid on the only remaining covered dish to reveal a pair of tennis shoes.
Her eyes widened. “Those are mine.”
“Caitlyn was coming to check her Galleria store this afternoon, so Natalie called to see if you needed anything. I gave her the list you made.”
“Thank you. My feet are killing me.” She yawned again.
“Do you need a wake-up call?” He stood, set the shoes at her feet and pushed his cart to the door. “We’re due in makeup at six.”
“In the morning?” Her voice rose.
“Sorry. We can start later, but it’ll take longer to shoot the video.”
“No. Six is fine. I have an alarm on my phone.”
“Night, then.” He shot her a wink. “Dream of me.”
Her sharp intake of breath echoed in his heart as he shut the door behind him. He’d certainly dream of her.
* * *
A pounding sound. Distant voice. Jenna rolled over and curled the pillow around her ears.
“Jenna.” Garrett’s voice. Calling to her. Not a dream.
She sat upright. Where was she? Why was Garrett pounding on the door?
The video. She squinted at the clock. Five-thirty.
“Oh, no.” She threw the covers back, grabbed her robe and hurried to the door.
What must she look like? But she didn’t have time to worry about it now. She flung the door open.
“Oversleep?” Garrett leaned casually against the doorframe holding her gold dress and shoes she’d worn to the Hall of Fame ceremony.
“Where did you get those? And why?”
“Caitlyn. I had an idea and Roger liked it. You’re wearing this once we get to the stage.”
“But I didn’t wear it to the concert.”
“No, but Roger thought a wardrobe change was in order and the video doesn’t have to be exactly like the concert. It’s a fantasy sequence to go with the song.”
He was definitely her fantasy. Black leather—looking downright yummy even at such a horrid hour. And she must be a scary sight.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t even hear my alarm. Give me a minute to dress and throw on some makeup.”
Rodeo Song Page 8