Page 71 of About that Fling
“Your colleagues can’t possibly judge everyone based on their insane relatives, can they? But really, that’s a moot point. I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“What is it you’re wanting to do?”
“Book tours. Television engagements.” Gert flung her arms out to the sides, her eyes twinkling with exhilaration. “All the publicity things my agent offered to arrange if I’m willing. If only Regis were still on the air.”
Jenna swallowed again, and Adam could see her working to control her breathing. He had to give her credit—she was trying. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but she was trying.
“And that’s what you want?”
“It is,” Gertie said. “I’ve been talking with Adam here about some of the legal implications, but really, I’ve already made up my mind. I’m ready to move forward with the next stage in my career.”
Jenna nodded and bit her lip. “Okay.” She took another breath, and seemed steadier when she spoke again. “I want you to be happy. I guess I can get used to the idea.”
“I’ll be careful, dear. I promise. And I’ll do my best to make sure this doesn’t turn into another scandal like the thing with the old CEO’s wife and the hookers.”
Jenna winced. “Okay. That’s all I can ask. I love you, Aunt Gertie.”
“You too, sweetheart.”
The two women embraced, and Adam stood quietly in front of the sofa. It was a beautiful moment, and it felt nice to be able to witness it. Aunt Gertie looked small and fragile in Jenna’s arms, while Jenna looked lovely and warm and fine boned. The scent of home cooking and cinnamon and orange peel gave the whole room a homey feel, and it felt like he was standing on the fringes of a Norman Rockwell painting.
The mood evaporated with the blare of Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back” blaring from Jenna’s purse. Adam clenched his hands behind his back, trying not to be annoyed. It used to be Mia’s favorite song. She’d dragged him out to a club one night, determined to draw him out of his shell, to get him to try something new, to cut loose and be spontaneous for a change.
It’ll be fun, I just want to dance and have a good time . . .
“Hey, Mia, what’s up?”
Adam blinked. As he refocused on the present, he saw Jenna with her phone pressed against her ear.
“Right now?” The panic was back in Jenna’s eyes again, and this time she looked ready to bolt. “You’re on your way here?”
Adam gritted his teeth. For a moment there, he’d felt hope. Jenna seemed to be letting go of the idea that other people were judging her. He’d felt a flicker of hope that maybe—just maybe—it meant something for them.
But as Jenna cut her eyes to him, he saw how very wrong he’d been. They stayed frozen like that for a moment, staring at each other across the expanse of the living room. Gert stood silent, as if waiting to see what would happen. Jenna held the phone to her ear, gripping it so hard her knuckles had gone white.
Adam stood up. “I’ll grab my coat,” he said, and slipped past her out the door.
Chapter 11
Jenna felt like hell.
It wasn’t just the memory of Adam’s expression as he’d moved past her out the door, his eyes flashing with awareness he’d just been thrown over for his ex-wife.
That was bad enough. But the sight of Mia sobbing at the kitchen table felt like a splintered Popsicle stick through her spleen.
“I feel like such a failure,” Mia sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue she’d already shredded to ribbons. “I had such high hopes for the counseling stuff, you know? But maybe I’m just not cut out for relationships.”
Gertie tucked a plate of pot roast in front of her and petted her hair. “There there, dear. I’ll just leave you two alone to talk?—”
“No, stay!” Mia caught the old woman’s hand in hers and gave a watery smile. “You’re like a mother to me, Gertie. A nonjudgmental mother who doesn’t berate me for my life choices or make me feel financially beholden to her.”
Gertie squeezed Mia’s hand and smiled. “You’re a dear. I wish I could stay, but I have a phone interview in ten minutes and I need to get ready. I know you and Jenna have a lot to talk about, so I’ll leave you to it.”
Jenna tried not to wince as Gertie gave her a pointed look, then drifted out of the room. Mia blew her nose again, blessedly oblivious to Gertie’s prodding. Jenna reached out and touched her friend’s arm.
“So you tried the nonviolent communication stuff with Mark?”
Mia sniffled again. “I tried to. Honestly, I probably did it wrong. I took home the worksheet and everything, but he just got mad. Said we should be able to talk to each other like normal people without needing a flowchart and printouts from my ex-husband.”
