Page 114 of About that Fling
“Nothing. Check your phone though, maybe she messaged you.”
Jenna nodded, tucking her hair behind her ears as she bent down to rummage through her purse. She pulled out her phone and sat up, frowning at the screen. He watched her, trying to gauge her expression.
“Anything from Mia?”
“No.” Jenna slid a finger across the screen, her frown deepening. “But there’s an e-mail from Kendall Freemont in Human Resources.”
“This early? What does it say?”
He watched her eyes move as she scanned the words. The color drained slowly from her face, and Adam felt his gut clench. “What is it?” he asked again.
“She’s asking me to report to her office at eight-thirty this morning,” Jenna said, moving her finger on the screen to scroll down. “She says it’s an urgent meeting regarding Belmont Health System’s employee fraternization policy.”
A chill snaked down his spine, and Adam forced himself to stay calm. “Is there anything else?”
Jenna nodded, her eyes wide and fearful as they met his. “Yes,” she said. “It’s addressed to both of us.”
Chapter 16
Jenna straightened her skirt, then straightened her spine and took a deep breath. She was five minutes early, but that was better than being on time or late, wasn’t it?
She had no idea. She’d rushed home to shower, donning her best power suit and high heels that pinched her toes. That wasn’t a bad thing. A little discomfort would keep her tough, make her strong enough to do what she had to do.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the door of the conference room next to Kendall’s office. She willed herself not to cry.
You’re the chief relations officer for a major medical center, she told herself. You worked hard to get here. You can handle this.
She took another deep breath and pushed the door open. Her eyes fell first on Kendall, who sat primly with her hands folded on the desk in front of her. She wore a black jacket and cat-eye glasses that had slipped a little down her nose. Across from her was Adam, looking clean-shaven and stiff in a dark gray suit.
Beside him sat Mia.
She wore a dark blue maternity dress with her red hair pulled back in a severe chignon. She wasn’t smiling.
“Mia,” Jenna gasped. “What are you—how’s Mark?”
Mia rested one hand on her belly and looked up. Her eyes were red, her expression unreadable. “He’s going to make it,” she said, her voice soft and sandpapery. “The bullet missed a major artery in his leg. He’ll need a few months of physical therapy, but it could have been a lot worse.”
“Oh, thank God.” Jenna felt the tears starting, and willed herself not to let them fall. She’d been here less than ten seconds and she was already crying. Jesus, she’d never make it at this rate.
She most definitely did not have things under control.
“Thank you for joining us,” Kendall said, nodding from behind her desk. “Could you please close the door, Jenna?”
“Of course.”
She pushed it shut, then turned to face the room. An empty chair sat between Adam and Mia, and she started toward it. Then she stopped. Clasping her hands in front of her to keep them from shaking, she forced herself to stand straight and tall.
“There’s something I need to say.”
Kendall glanced at Mia, then at Adam. “I’m not really sure it’s necessary for you to?—”
“No, I need to say it. In front of everyone—Mia, Adam, you.” She swallowed, surprised to discover her voice was steadier than she expected it to be. She’d spent her whole career perfecting the art of polished presentation, but nothing inside her felt polished anymore.
Everything was absolutely, positively, not under control.
Jenna felt raw and empty and completely unraveled. She took a steadying breath and lifted her chin.
“I’m sorry.” She paused, feeling oddly fortified by that word, so she said it again. “I’m really very sorry. I know I’ve been cavalier with the company’s policy on employee fraternization, and I know I’ve conducted myself in a manner unbecoming to an executive of this organization. I understand if you need to penalize me for it, and I accept the consequences of my actions. But that’s not what I’m most sorry for.”
