Page 3 of About that Fling
“I made the crust from scratch last night.”
“It looks fabulous. Thank you so much for lunch, Aunt Gertie.”
“My pleasure, dear.”
“So what did you need to ask me?”
Gertie reached into her handbag and pulled out a little notepad with daisies on the cover. “I was working on my grocery list while I waited for my PT appointment. Do you think you’ll be home for dinner?”
“Probably not. I’m meeting Mia at the wine bar. It’s my duty to drink her share now that she’s pregnant.”
“Give her a big hug for me. I’ve been knitting some booties for her baby.”
“She’ll love that.
Gertie cleared her throat and glanced down at her notepad. “Tell me, sweetie, do you think ‘man root’ should be one word or two?”
Jenna pushed aside the fennel root tart and closed her eyes. “Is that your grocery list, Aunt Gertie?”
“Right—yes right, of course. The grocery list.”
Jenna pressed two fingers to her temple, wondering how long she could keep up this charade of pretending not to know how Gert managed to pay all those medical bills. “I suppose it depends on the context, but?—”
“She devoured his turgid man root like a succulent piece of fruit covered in chocolate?—”
“That’s an awfully long item for a grocery list,” Jenna interrupted, pushing the chocolate-dipped strawberries to the back of her desk. “I think ‘man root’ should be two words.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay then.” Gertie stood up and tucked the notepad back in her purse. “I have to run. Don’t work too hard, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Gertie. I love you.”
“You too, dear,” she said. “Oh, and sweetie? Try to get laid tonight at the wine bar.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but Gertie had already bustled out of the room, the soft scent of lavender sachet trailing behind her.
Jenna surveyed the array of containers and tried to find something appealing. Maybe the focaccia bread?—
“Jenna, I’m so glad I caught you.” Allison Ross, the exec for a statewide medical association, marched into her office looking grim. “There’s a problem with the event.”
“Of course there is.” Suppressing a sigh, Jenna set down her bread and looked at Allie. “What’s going on?”
“They’re balking at hosting it here, given the contentious turn in negotiations. They’re worried about optics.”
“Our optics are fine.” She crossed her fingers under the desk and prayed that remained true. Belmont needed the clout that came from hosting medical association seminars like the ones Allie Ross brought in. “I swear, everything’s under control.
She sounded like a broken record and her lunch break was nearly over. God, this week couldn’t end soon enough.
Allie seemed to register that she’d interrupted Jenna’s meal. Blanching, she baked away from the desk. “I’m sorry. I can come back later when you’re done eating.”
“It’s fine.” She glanced at Gert’s neon pink note tucked in the back of her phone case.
Looks like I won’t be embracing my inner sex goddess anytime soon, Aunt Gertie.
“You know,” Allie said, surveying the assortment of containers on Jenna’s desk. “I just read an article about the importance not working through meals. Apparently the average desk has four hundred times more bacteria than a public bathroom.”
