Page 31 of About that Fling
“Here you go, Gertie. Can I get you anything else? Chamomile tea? Another pillow?”
“I’m fine, dear, really. A little weak, but I’m feeling much better.”
“Want to watch another Sex and the City marathon?”
“Maybe later, dear.” Gert burrowed her spindly fingers into a sea of blue and green yarn. “Right now I’d love to work on those baby hats for the hospital birthing center. I promised them two more next week.”
Jenna brushed a shock of white hair off Aunt Gertie’s forehead, checking the old woman’s temperature just to be safe. No fever, but she did look a little flushed. “I’m sure they’d understand if you fell a little behind, Gert. You need your rest.”
“I’ve been resting all day. It’s just food poisoning, sweetheart, I’m fine. I promise I’ll stop if I feel too tired.”
“Okay,” Jenna said, dropping a kiss on the old woman’s head. “Yell if you need anything.”
She turned and headed back down the hall, reminding herself to check on her aunt again in a few minutes. It wouldn’t do to have Gert nod off with a crochet needle in her hand and poke herself in the eye.
Dropping into her seat at the kitchen table, Jenna stroked a fingertip over the trackpad on her laptop. The screen flickered to life, revealing a pop-up message.
Friend request sent.
“What?!”
She fumbled for the keyboard, panic making a rocky lump in her throat. She stroked the trackpad again, frantic now. She was still on Adam Thomas’s Facebook page.
“Holy hell!”
“What’s that, dear?” Gert called.
“Nothing!” Holy crap, how did this happen? “Everything’s fine.”
Shit, shit, shit. Would he receive an instant notification of the friend request, or could she make it go away before he noticed? What if Mia checked Facebook to see if anyone posted wedding photos and saw Jenna had friended her ex? Was that how Facebook worked? What the hell determined the things that showed up in newsfeeds? Jenna tried to recall details from a social media workshop she’d done at that marketing summit last year, but she honestly couldn’t remember.
She mouse-clicked frantically around the page until she found what she was looking for.
Cancel friend request.
She clicked the words, then clicked to confirm. There, that should work. Jenna bit her lip. Wait, would Adam get a notification that she’d rescinded her friend request? Would other people see that in their timeline?
Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit.
If she’d already friended him in the first place, maybe the damage was done. Unfriending him might make things worse. Besides, she could see his full profile if she friended him, right?
She clicked the button again.
Friend request sent.
Shit, no. That was stupid. He had to accept the friend request first, didn’t he? Why hadn’t Jenna paid more attention to how Facebook worked?
She hovered her cursor over the Cancel friend request command, casting a furious glance at her damn empty wineglass. That was the problem, really. An empty wineglass was at the root of most of her mistakes so far with Adam. Or maybe a full wineglass. Hell, maybe she should swear off wine altogether.
Cancel friend request.
Dammit, she hadn’t meant to hit the button. Or hell, maybe she had. Adam would probably know, what with all his Freudian training and knowledge of the inner-workings of the subconscious.
She thought about what Aunt Gertie would do in this situation. Or what about a woman determined to embrace her inner sex goddess? Jenna bit her lip.
Friend request sent.
Dammit. She should just cancel the request, wash out her wineglass, and go to bed. Or maybe she should fill up the kitchen sink and drown herself in it.
