Page 28 of About that Fling
Jenna nodded, her gut clenching with guilt. For the kiss, or for the fact that they’d worked together to cover it up? She couldn’t say for sure.
Jenna dropped her keys in the little dish by the front door, smiling at the freshly crocheted doily beneath it. Gertie wasn’t good at sitting idle, not even when she was sick.
“Aunt Gertie?” she called, then kicked herself. What if the old woman was sleeping?
But Gertie’s voice called back from the bathroom at the other end of the hall. “Just a second, sweetie. Oh, dear—this stomach bug doesn’t seem to want to let go of me, I’m afraid.”
“I stopped at the store and got some ginger ale and soda crackers on the way home. Why don’t you get back into bed and I’ll bring them to you, okay?”
“That would be lovely, dear. Thank you.”
Jenna toed off her shoes and padded into the kitchen with her shopping bag, glancing at the dining room table where Gertie’s laptop sat open and glowing. No screensaver, which meant Gert hadn’t been away long.
Something on the screen caught her eye, and Jenna blinked at it, then angled closer, feeling like a horrible snoop, but curious just the same.
New York Times Bestseller!!!!!!!!!!
That was the subject line on an e-mail chain that had started earlier in the week. Jenna glanced toward the silent hallway that led toward Gert’s room, then back at the laptop. She took a step closer, peering at the screen.
At the top of the message was a screenshot of what Jenna could only presume was the week’s New York Times Bestseller list. A familiar name occupied slot number three.
G.G. Buckingham.
Gert’s pen name. Not that they’d ever discussed it. It wasn’t that Gert kept things a secret. Honestly, she’d probably be thrilled to chat about it.
It was that Jenna didn’t want to know. She wanted to keep pretending, to stick to their tacit agreement never to speak of Gert’s crazy life penning tales of lust and passion and illicit trysts.
It had never mattered before. Gert got to earn extra income to help pay her medical bills, Jenna got to pretend Gert sat here all day crocheting doilies and baking pies.
Jenna shook her head, torn between pride in her aunt’s achievement and confusion about what it all meant. She looked back at the e-mail. Beneath the screenshot, there was a typed message.
Gertrude,
Congratulations again! As I said on the phone, we need to schedule a call to discuss what this means for the future of your writing career. How’s next Monday for you?
It was signed Michelle. Gert’s agent, another secret Jenna knew only from the monthly royalty checks that showed up accounts Jenna helped manage. Gert pretended they were from Publishers Clearing House sweepstakes, and Jenna played along because it was easier that way.
It was stupid, really, but what choice did she have? Even when the ex-CEO had claimed not to know about his wife’s escort service, he still went down with the ship when the story broke. With negotiations as tense as they were at Belmont, Jenna couldn’t afford to have Gert’s secret get out.
A toilet flushed at the end of the hall, and Jenna jerked upright. She turned and placed her shopping bag on the counter, then began pulling out her purchases. A box of crackers, a pack of chamomile tea, a six-pack of chilled ginger ale, and one of the gossip magazines Gert enjoyed reading. Jenna reached into the cupboard above her for a plate and a glass, torn between guilt for snooping, pride in her aunt’s achievement, and a sadness she couldn’t quite place.
She couldn’t congratulate Gert, right? They didn’t talk about it, so a pat on the back wasn’t the right thing. Still, it seemed like an occasion she should mark somehow.
She heard Gertie’s slippered feet shuffling down the hall, and turned to see her aunt moving into the kitchen. Jenna placed a handful of soda crackers on a china plate and turned to face her aunt.
“Aunt Gertie, I told you to get in bed and I’d bring these to you. You should be resting.”
“I know, dear, but I couldn’t wait to hear about Mia’s reception. Were there a lot of people? What did she wear? Did she have flowers and cake?”
Jenna looked down at the pink and white flowered lei Mia had looped over her head as she left the reception. She pulled it off and placed it gently around Gert’s neck, straightening it over her housecoat. Then she bent to plant a kiss on her aunt’s weathered cheek.
“You look beautiful,” she murmured, surprised at how deeply she meant it. “You and Mom always looked amazing in pink.”
Gertie smiled, fingering the flowers. “Your mother was always the head turner. Remember that pink dress she wore at your sweet sixteen?”
Jenna nodded, her eyes prickling with the memory. “She looked like an angel.”
An angel at the end stage of her cancer battle. It never got better after that.
