Page 65 of About that Fling
“No, it’s not. I mean—it’s a personal message.”
“Oh?”
Jenna couldn’t tell from his inflection if it was a question or a statement, and his expression stayed perfectly neutral. She knew she didn’t owe him an explanation, but found herself babbling one anyway.
“It’s Shawn. My ex. He invited me to some charity event next month and I told him I’d consider it. Purely professional.”
Adam quirked an eyebrow. “A professional date?”
“It’s not a date. Not exactly. Several Belmont administrators sit on the board of directors for the charity and?—”
“Jenna, it’s none of my business. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
She nodded, then looked away. “I haven’t agreed to go. I’m thinking about it. Thinking about a lot of things, really.”
“Me too.”
Something about the softness in her voice made her meet his eyes again, and she felt her stomach twist into a tight, fizzy knot. The backs of her knees began to tingle, and she touched a hand to a chair to steady herself.
It was ridiculous. She’d fielded half a dozen calls from Shawn since they’d run into each other, and the ones she hadn’t ignored had left her feeling flat and unaffected. How was it possible mere eye contact with Adam could make every atom in her body flicker like twinkle lights?
She looked away, letting her gaze fall to her watch. “I have to get to a meeting over in the ER. I’ll see you in the next mediation session?”
“I promise to wear pants and leave my porn at home.”
“Good plan,” she said, giving him one last look. “It’s a pleasure working with you.”
“Likewise.”
She turned away, the formality of it all making her jaw ache.
The next morning, Adam made it a point to greet every member of the bargaining team—including Brett Lombard—with a smile and a handshake.
His ex-wife’s grasp was cool and familiar, and she pulled away quickly like she worried he hadn’t washed his hand after using the bathroom. Jenna was up next, and Adam held her gaze as he closed his palm around hers.
“Jenna. Good to see you.”
“You, too,” she said, and hurried past, leaving Adam with his fingers tingling.
As soon as everyone had filed in, he returned to his spot at the front of the room. “We’re going to start the next segment of the mediation with some training in nonviolent communication strategies.”
He took a seat on the table in front of the podium. As usual, it was vacant, with none of the bargaining team willing to occupy the front row. “Is anyone here familiar with NVC principles?” He scanned the room, making a point to meet every set of eyes.
Okay, maybe not Jenna’s. Or his ex-wife’s. And Brett Lombard looked away the instant Adam’s eyes caught his. Still, twelve out of fifteen wasn’t bad.
No one raised a hand, so Adam hopped off the table and picked up a pile of handouts. He split the stack in half, handing one pile to Nancy Jensen on the far corner of the room. Nancy took one and passed it behind her while Adam made his way to the opposite side of the room. Halfway there, he realized Jenna occupied the far corner. He tried not to let his hand brush hers as he handed the stack to her. She looked up at him and flushed, but her gaze slipped away quickly.
Adam turned and retreated to the front of the room. “NVC, nonviolent communication, is also known as Compassionate Communication. It’s a way of taking a conversation out of a framework of judgment and blame. Can anyone take a guess what sort of response you generally get when you communicate with someone using judgment and blame?”
The silence stretched out for a few beats, but Adam waited.
“Defensiveness?”
Adam nodded at Susan Schrader, trying not to imagine her admiring the photo of Brett’s junk. “That’s right. Anything else?”
“A punch in the crotch.”
Adam wasn’t sure who said it, but a few titters of laughter cropped up around the room, so he smiled. “That’s right. Also known as a counterattack, either literal or figurative. So instead of prompting that sort of response, we want to learn to speak and hear from the heart to create harmony and understanding. We learn to express feelings and universal needs, as opposed to judgments.”
