Must be a serious favor, she thought. He’s turning on the charm.
“Unbeknownst to me, until late this afternoon, Craig Duncan, one of my partners, invited a prospective client to dinner on Thursday night. . .here. To my house.”
“Oh. . .” Jena thought it awfully presumptuous of his business partner to do such a thing but refrained from saying so.
“Anyway, this client is Isabella Minniati. Ever heard of her?”
Jena shook her head.
“Well, she’s a top executive for the Milwaukee Mavericks.”
“Who?”
“It’s an indoor football team.”
Jena hoped she appeared impressed for propriety’s sake. In truth, she wasn’t crazy about football—outdoor or indoor.
“My firm is vying for the position of the Mavericks’ corporate attorneys. Bella, that’s her nickname, just found out she’s expecting a baby, so Craig decided my house would be a cozy little backdrop for cinching this deal, seeing as I have two adorable daughters. . .and a summer girl who knows how to cook.”
Jena’s eyes widened with horror. “Me? Cook for somebody important?”
“Well, you cooked for me the last two days. What am I? A nobody?”
Jena noted his wounded expression and wondered if it were part of the presentation. “Of course you’re not a nobody. I didn’t mean that. I just. . .well, I like to cook, but I don’t have a lot of confidence in my ability. . .”
Then suddenly it dawned on her. “Star. Star’s a great cook! And she needs a job.” She tipped her head. “Are you willing to pay extra for this?”
“Absolutely. Name your price.”
“Um. . .” Jena was stumped. She hadn’t a clue as to how much the job should pay. Fifty dollars? How much did cooks make an hour?
“Tell you what; I’ll pay you each a hundred bucks. . .plus expenses.”
“A hundred bucks each?” she repeated. “Hey, that sounds great.” Jena thought the money would tide Star over until she found a real job and she, herself, could always use an extra one hundred dollars.
“So you’ll do it? You and your friend Star?”
“I have to ask her, but if she agrees. . .sure, we’ll do it!”
“Nothing fancy. Think homey.”
“Like homemade vegetable soup and a loaf of home baked bread?”
“Yeah,” Travis said with a pleased grin. “Like that.”
“Well. . .” Jena put her hands on her hips and glanced at the blue, cloudless sky. “In that case, we’d better pray a cold front blows through. I have no intentions of slaving over a hot stove in ninety degree weather.”
Striking a match and igniting the charcoal in the grill, Travis smiled and stepped back from the flames. “Jena, I don’t care what kind of food you prepare. Just make it homey and impress Bella.”
“Star and I will certainly do our best,” she replied.
“That’s all I ask.”
Pivoting on the ball of her bare foot, Jena reentered the house, hoping Star was as receptive to Travis’s idea as she had been.
Seven
Jena and Star spent much of the next day planning and preparing for Thursday night’s homey dinner. But when the day arrived, it was too hot to make the soup and bread they had selected, so they quickly changed the menu to steaks on the grill and seven-layer salad. Jena phoned Travis at work, and he gave his approval.
“I think everything’s ready,” Jena announced, entering the kitchen where Star put the finishing touches on the salad. “Now that’s how I like to eat my vegetables.” She gazed at the bacon bits Star sprinkled on top of the shredded cheddar cheese. “It looks fabulous.”
“Thanks.” Star beamed. “This is one of my summer specialties.”
“I can tell.”
At that moment, Jena glanced out the kitchen’s picture window and spied the top of Mrs. Barlow’s snowy-white head. Half a minute later, a knock sounded on the back door.
“Come on in,” Jena called.
The older woman stepped into the back hall carrying a small cardboard box. “After you told me how the two of you have been fussing, I wanted to help, so I baked a rhubarb pie this afternoon.”
“In this heat?” Star placed her cold soda bottle against her temple.
“Oh, it’s not that hot.” Mrs. Barlow’s green eyes snapped with amusement. “Besides, a cold front is coming through tonight. Anyway,” she said, looking at Jena, “the pie just came out of the oven, and I figure by the time Travis and his guests are done eating dinner, it should be cooled enough to slice and serve with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.”
With her hands in oven mitts, she extracted the pie from the box. Then she pulled out a round container of ice cream.
“Thanks, Mrs. Barlow.” Jena took the frozen treat and set it inside the freezer. While she had planned to serve cheesecake for dessert, the rhubarb pie and ice cream sounded ever so much more “homey”—especially since Jena had used a no-bake boxed recipe.
Suddenly, Mandi came dashing into the kitchen. “Miss Jena, can you tell Carly to be quiet? She’s crying, and I can’t hear the TV.”
“Why is she crying?”
Mandi shrugged. “I don’t know. Come see. Make her stop it.”
“All right. . .”
The six year old ran out of the kitchen. Jena followed, and reaching the den, she paused at one of its two doorways. Carly lay on the red and blue plaid sofa, whimpering.
Jena frowned as concern surged through her. “What’s wrong, Carly? What’s the matter?”
Sitting on the couch, she pulled the three-year-old onto her lap. Carly quieted and snuggled into her arms. Jena rocked her, and not to be left out, Mandi bounded onto the sofa and slipped her arm around Jena’s, leaning her blond head on Jena’s arm.
Mrs. Barlow’s tall, broad-shouldered frame appeared at the doorway. She folded her arms and shook her head, smiling. “You’re mother material if I ever saw it.”
Jena smiled. “Well, I want to be a mother. . .someday.”
She peered down at Mandi who regarded her with curiosity.
“How come you’re not a mom now?” she asked.
“Because I’m not married. I have to find a husband first.”
“Hey, I got it!” she cried, popping upright. “You could marry my daddy, and then you’d be our mom.”
Jena felt her face begin to flame. She’d walked right into that one. “God has to find me a husband.”
“That’s right. It can’t be little Miss Mandi Larson,” the older woman said with a broad grin.
The girl pouted, and her brown eyes shifted from Mrs. Barlow to Jena. “Could Carly and me just pretend you’re our mom?”
“Yeah,” Carly murmured, “just p’tend.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jena told them. She didn’t want to start something she couldn’t finish. Besides, she wasn’t Travis Larson’s type. She had seen pictures of his deceased wife, and the woman had been model gorgeous, slim figure, clear complexion—not a freckle face like Jena. Moreover, she sensed from the various photos she’d viewed that Meg Larson had been trendy and modern—not old-fashioned, which was more Jena’s style. On the flipside, Travis Larson wasn’t the sort of man who would capture Jena’s interest. Ever since she moved to Wisconsin, she had been praying for a husband in the ministry—a missionary, a pastor. A lawyer wasn’t even a consideration. “I’m just your summer lady, remember?”
“Good,” Mandi said, curling up beside her once more. “Then summer’s never gonna end.”
“Of course it is, Silly.” After a roll of her eyes, Jena gazed at Mrs. Barlow. “These two act like they’re starving for affection.”
“I don’t think it’s an act, Dear.”
Jena felt a tiny piece of her heart tear. . .until she remembered seeing their father kiss and hug the girls. “Travis gives them affection.”
“But it’s not quite the same as a mother’s tender nurturing. And, while you’re not a mother per se, you have a
motherly way about you. That’s why I knew you’d be perfect for this job.”
Jena smiled and glanced down at Carly whose eyes were closing off to sleep. Next, she peered at Mandi who had once again been absorbed by Anne of Green Gables on the television.
“Hey, Jen,” Star said, entering the den, “your boss just got home, and a couple of other cars pulled up in front of the house. I can only assume his guests have arrived too.”
“I’m going to leave,” Mrs. Barlow said, giving Star a hug and blowing a kiss to Jena. “You’re both going to do fine tonight. Travis is lucky to have you helping him out.”
“Thanks for the pie,” Jena called after her.
She turned and waved
Gathering Carly, Jena stood. “You know, this little girl feels awfully warm. What if I have to mind a sick child tonight? Will you be okay?”
“Sure. . .everything’s basically done.”
Star’s confidence caused Jena to relax a bit.
“Daddy!” Mandi cried, jumping off the couch and running toward him with arms outstretched.
Travis met his oldest in the living room and swooped her up into his arms as his guests traipsed in through the front door. Smiling like a proud papa, he and Mandi greeted the two couples. Then he glanced toward the den as if looking for Carly, and Jena seized the moment to wave him over.
“I’m going back into the kitchen.” Star spun on her heel and exited out of the den’s second doorway.
Jena watched as her friend made her way through the dining room. Glancing into the living room once more, she stepped toward the other door and watched Travis’s approach.
“Are we ready?” he asked, rubbing his palms together. Behind him, Jena could hear a woman exclaiming over Mandi.
“Well, yes. . .food-wise we’re set. But I’m afraid we might have a sick little girl on our hands.” She nodded at Carly whose head rested against Jena’s shoulder.
Travis gave his daughter a dramatic frown, intended to make her grin. Then he put a hand over her forehead. “She’s got a fever.” A worry line formed above his dark brow. “Did you give her anything yet?”
She shook her head. “I just noticed how warm she felt a few minutes ago.”
“Hmm…well, if she’s not better by tomorrow morning, I’ll call Dr. Becker, the girls’ pediatrician. In the meantime, there’s medicine upstairs in the linen closet.”
“Great. I’ll go get it.”
“And I’ll introduce my youngest daughter to our guests.” Travis held his arms out to Carly, but she whimpered and buried her head deeper into Jena’s chest.
“Carly!” Jena couldn’t believe the child refused her father. Usually she was as excited to see him as Mandi.
“Oooh, you little heartbreaker.” Travis tickled his daughter; however, Carly yelped and clung tighter to Jena.
“I think she’s sicker than we first believed.”
Travis narrowed his gaze. “I think she just knows which one of us is going to spoil her.” Grinning, he winked at Jena.
She smiled back, but her heart suddenly beat in the strangest way. Maybe she was coming down with something too.
“Travis, is this your wife?”
Wide-eyed, Jena glanced at the doorway in time to see a slim woman with white-blond hair enter the room. Clad in a fitted black, sleeveless dress, she carried herself with an air of confidence.
“Hi,” she said, “I’m Isabella Minniati. It’s a pleasure to meet you. And who’s this?” She sidestepped Travis to peer at Carly. “What an adorable little girl!”
Carly turned her face away.
“She’s not feeling well,” Jena tried to explain, “and I’m not—”
“Oh, what a shame,” Isabella declared, touching the top of Carly’s blond head. “Yes, she is a bit warm.”
“Bella, this is Jena,” Travis began. “She’s my sum—”
“She’s lovely, Trav,” the woman cut in, whirling around to face him. “When I saw the two of you together in here and that darling child in your wife’s arms, well, I. . .well, it was picture-perfect. You make a charming couple!”
Jena’s jaw dropped, and she stared at Travis who rolled his eyes and shook his head just as two men strode into the room.
“Honey, this is Travis’s wife, Jena,” Isabella said to the husky man in a white polo shirt and dark slacks.
“A pleasure to meet you,” he said with a genuine smile and a nod of his ebony head. “I’m Joe Minniati.”
Jena forced a small smile and repositioned Carly in her arms. She looked back at Travis who was conversing with another man who appeared to be in his early sixties.
“Their little girl is sick,” Bella went on.
“What a shame.”
“So when did you and Travis get married? Poor Travis has been a single dad for so long.” Bella pointed a well-manicured finger at him and laughed. “You needed a wife. You were getting awfully grumpy!”
“He certainly was!” the older man said.
He strode toward her, and Jena inadvertently took a step backwards, but he halted her process by placing his hands on her shoulders. “Great to see you again, Jena,” he told her, batting one eye. Oddly, this wink didn’t have the same affect on her that Travis’s had earlier. “Well, folks,” he said turning to face the Minniatis, “let’s leave Jena to do her motherly thing and put her sick child to bed. Then we’ll eat. Right, Trav? Jena’s prepared a homey meal for us to enjoy. She’s the picture of domesticity.”
With that, he ushered the others into the living room, and Jena glanced at Travis.
“What in the world. . .?”
“I’m so sorry. We’ve traumatized you, haven’t we?”
“Well, no. . .not traumatized exactly.”
“Not to worry. I’ll take care of everything.” He swallowed hard. “After I throttle my partner. I bet I could get off with the insanity plea.”
Jena ignored the quip. “That man with the bushy white hair. . .he’s your partner?”
Travis’s features softened. “Right. His name is Craig Duncan. He’s senior partner at my firm.” He shook his head and took several steps in her direction. “Look, Jena, I’ll straighten things out. I promise. Craig’s not thinking like a normal person right now. He’s so desperate to sign this deal with Bella, he’d beg, borrow, and steal if he had to. But, instead, he’s letting her believe a lie because. . .well, she obviously likes the idea that you and I are married.”
Jena felt her face heating up at the implication.
“Again, I apologize.” Travis ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture if Jena ever saw one. “Don’t get mad and quit on me. . .please.”
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of quitting.”
He expelled a weary-sounding sigh. “Good. That’s the last thing I need.”
Jena gazed down at Carly, deciding this was her chance to change a most uncomfortable subject. “I guess I should go tend to little one here. What kind of medicine am I looking for upstairs in the linen closet?”
“It’s a bottle of children’s fever reducer. Give her two tablets. I’ll send Mandi up, and she can get in her pajamas. Meanwhile, I’ll clear up the misunderstanding down here.”
“Okay.” That sounded like as good a plan as any. “Star’s in the kitchen, and she’ll put the steaks on the grill whenever you tell her to. The meat will only take a few minutes.”
Travis nodded.
With Carly asleep in her arms, Jena felt as though her limbs might give out. Nevertheless, she marched purposely out of the den, making her escape to the second floor.
Eight
With Carly sleeping and Mandi settled in for the night, Jena strode down the carpeted hallway, heading for the stairs. She hoped Star fared all right in the kitchen without her. Reaching the top of the stairwell, Jena paused, hearing footfalls ascending at a rapid pace. A heartbeat later, Travis rounded the landing and took the next flight two steps at a time, nearly colliding with Jena as he reached the second floor.
&n
bsp; He caught himself in time and backed up. “Sorry ’bout that.”
She gave him a forgiving grin. “That’s okay.”
“Are the girls sleeping?”
“Carly is, and Mandi’s almost there.”
“Good.” He raked a hand through his dark brown hair. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What is it?” Jena asked with a frown. “Did Star burn the steaks?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Travis drew in a deep breath. “You see. . .there hasn’t been a good time for me to straighten out the matter of you being my summer girl and not my wife. I’d have to practically call Craig a liar in front of the Minniatis, and I can’t do that.”
Jena started to protest, but Travis held up a forestalling hand.
“He told Bella and Joe that you and I went to Paris for our honeymoon.”
“No, he didn’t!” she eked out an incredulous note.
“Shhh. . .” He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, he did. Bella asked to see our wedding pictures, and Craig said we haven’t gotten them back from the photographer yet.”
Jena stood there, gaping at him. “So now what?”
“Well, I wondered if you’d. . .well, if you’d play along.”
“No!”
“Just for tonight.”
“Absolutely not!” She folded her arms and prayed she looked adamant because her insides were quivering with sudden anxiety.
“You’ll probably never see these people again, Jena.”
“I can’t lie. . .”
“You won’t have to. You don’t have to say a word. Just be polite and follow my lead.”
“Travis, if I agree to this pretense, it’s a lie.”
Putting his forefinger to his lips, he glanced over the stairwell wall. “Jena, I’ll give you and Star five hundred bucks each if you help me out.”
“I can’t be bought.”
Travis smirked. “Your friend can. Star thinks this whole thing is hilarious, and she agreed to my offer.”
“Then tell your guest that Star’s your wife.”
“Too late now.” Travis stepped up to the landing, causing Jena to retreat. Taking hold of her elbow, he led her a few feet away so they wouldn’t be overheard below. “Listen, it’s for a few hours, Jena. That’s all. Pretend you’re an actress at your college performing in a play. . .”
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