About That Fling (17 page)

“Sweatshirt?” Jenna called back, her arms prickling with an unease she couldn’t explain.

“Cornell University Law School. Not the most common school in the world.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and it’s kinda weird. That’s my ex-husband’s alma mater.”

Jenna closed her eyes and wished for the ground to swallow her up.

C
hapte
r
T
en

Jenna’s eyes were still closed when she heard her Aunt Gertie’s voice across the table.

“Cornell University Law School, you say?” Gert called out to Mia. Jenna opened her eyes to see Gert watching her with interest. “That must be Arthur’s sweatshirt.”

Mia trudged back into the room, a Tide stain stick clutched in one hand and an expression that was more curious than suspicious. Jenna willed herself to breathe.

“Who’s Arthur?” Mia asked as she dropped back into her chair and popped the top off the stain remover.

“Arthur is my new gentleman friend. He stayed over one night last week, so he must have left that behind.”

“He graduated from Cornell?”

“Why yes, I believe he did. Practiced family law for quite a few years down in the Bay Area before he retired. He dabbles in a bit of elder law now and then over at the Senior Center. Another biscuit, dear?”

Jenna blinked and reached out to take the wooden bowl her aunt had nudged toward her. When Gert caught her eye, she gave a wink so faint, Jenna was sure she’d imagined it.

She knew she should feel relieved, but the guilt pressed heavily into her chest. She split open a biscuit and reached for her orange juice.

What Mia doesn’t know won’t hurt her,
she told herself.

It just might
, her conscience argued back.

Jenna gulped down the last of her juice, her stomach roiling. She felt like the worst friend on the face of the planet. She probably was.

Beside her, Mia chattered on.

“I’m glad you’re seeing someone, Aunt Gertie,” Mia said as she finished rubbing the stain stick over her shirt and recapped the pen. “Love is a wonderful thing at any age.”

“Pish, who said anything about love?” Gert grinned and pushed the gravy toward Jenna. “I’m just after the sex.”

Two hours later, Jenna was up to her elbows in soapy water, washing the last of the breakfast dishes.

She still hadn’t managed to wash Gert’s mental picture from her mind. As if conjured by dirty thoughts, Aunt Gertie strolled into the kitchen and fluffed her hair.

“Did you have a good nap, Aunt Gertie?”

“Lovely, dear. Thank you so much for taking care of those. My energy level just isn’t what it used to be these days, I’m afraid.”

“You made an entire breakfast from scratch. I’d say your energy is pretty good for seventy-eight.” Jenna pulled the last plate from the suds and began to rinse, her brain trolling for the best way to ask her question. “Aunt Gertie?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I was here all week. You didn’t have an overnight guest.”

“No? Hmm, perhaps my memory isn’t what it used to be, either.”

Jenna set the plate aside and turned to face her aunt. “There’s no beau who went to Cornell Law School, is there?”

Aunt Gertie smiled and picked up a dish towel. “Of course not, dear. Arthur was a proctologist who went to Oregon State—an ass-man from OSU, as he likes to say.”

“Right,” Jenna said, turning back to the sink. “So why did you cover for me?”

“You looked like you needed it. Like there’s something you weren’t quite ready to talk about with the group, or at least not with Mia.”

Jenna fell silent a moment, digesting her aunt’s words. How much did Aunt Gertie know? How much could Jenna still hide? Her mind was still racing when Gert spoke again.

“You know, dear, Mia loves you very much.”

Jenna kept her eyes on the water, feeling it sluice warm over her hands as she rinsed another plate. “I know that. She’s a very loyal friend.”

“Hmm, yes, loyalty is important. So are other things, too.”

“Like what?” Jenna’s voice was barely a whisper, and she was gripping the china so hard she feared she might break it.

“Like the ability to be honest with one another. To care for each other even when one friend does something the other might not like very much.”

Jenna nodded, not sure how to respond. Part of her ached to tell Gertie the whole story, to break down and confess everything, to ask her aunt what she should do.

But part of her wanted to keep the secret locked up tight. To protect Mia. To protect herself.

“All I’m saying is that Mia would want you to be happy,” Gertie said. “Even if that happiness comes with elements that might make her a little uncomfortable.”

Jenna turned to face her aunt. “How do you know?”

“About you and Adam, or about the fact that Mia will forgive you?”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, and all she could do was nod.

“Intuition, dear,” Gert said. “And a fondness for stories about love and longing and human relationships.”

Jenna looked down at the plate in her hand, thinking about her aunt’s books. “We aren’t just talking about Adam and me now, are we?”

Gert reached out and patted her hand. “We’re talking about whatever you’re comfortable talking about, dear. And if you’re not comfortable,” she shrugged, withdrawing her hand, “well then, we’ll continue to pretend nothing’s going on. Is that what you’d like?”

Jenna kept her eyes on the plate. This was her chance. The opportunity to have everything out in the open. Gert’s writing career and the possibility of worldwide exposure. Her feelings for Adam and her fears about what that might mean for Mia. The fling that could cost her professional reputation, even if they waited until Adam’s contract ended. Everyone would remember. Everyone would know.

She reached up to turn off the taps, then handed the plate to her aunt. “Let’s keep pretending for now.”

Gertie nodded. “Okay then. But sooner or later, you’re going to have to confront things.”

“All right,” Jenna murmured, burying her hands in a dish towel. “Not now, though. Just—not yet.”

“Can you please state, for the record, whether this is or is not your genitalia?”

Kendall Freemont pushed the photograph forward across the table in the HR conference room while Jenna sat beside her, doing her best to keep a straight face.

It wasn’t easy. The task was complicated by the fact that Adam sat directly across from her, and beside him was the man who’d been caught taking one of the least impressive dick pics Jenna had ever seen.

Brett Lombard looked like a mouse caught in a trap and thinking of chewing off its own foot. Considering the image on the paper in front of him, the mouse analogy wasn’t so far off.

“I’m going to repeat the question, Mr. Lombard,” Kendall said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I don’t think I need to remind you, you’re the president of the nurses’ union. You have a professional responsibility to answer honestly. Is this, or is this not, your genitalia?”

Adam cleared his throat and turned to Brett. “As the contractor hired to assist this organization with labor negotiations, I’d advise you to tell your employer anything they ask.” He leaned closer to Brett, glancing once at Kendall. “However, if I were your attorney, I’d advise you not to answer that question.”

Brett frowned. “Aren’t you both of those things?”

“I’m not technically
your
attorney,” Adam said. “I was trying to help you out.”

“This is pointless,” Kendall said, throwing up her hands. “We know you sent the photo to your colleague using the company e-mail system with a subject line that read, ‘check out my junk.’ The message got stuck in our filters.”

Which is not where he’d hoped the object in question might be stuck, Jenna mused, trying hard not to glance at the picture again. She stole a look at Adam instead, then realized her mistake. He looked confident and professional with an air of genuine compassion, which was sexy as hell. Christ, this is exactly why companies had policies about co-workers dating each other. One longing look across the boardroom and the next thing you know, you’re spread-eagled on the conference table.

Jenna pushed that image out of her mind and arranged her face into something she hoped might pass for professional composure. Adam was doing a much better job of it than she was. Then again, she could see the telltale crinkle around his eyes that meant he was on the brink of losing it.

Yet another reason companies don’t like colleagues to date. You know entirely too much about what the other person is thinking.

Jenna took a deep breath and tore her thoughts and her eyes away from Adam. Instead, she regarded Brett with her most serious expression.

“Ordinarily, you’d be dismissed outright for an offense like this,” she said. “Belmont Health System takes sexual harassment very seriously. We’d usually handle this situation as a personnel issue through HR, and there’d be no need for Mr. Thomas or me to even be party to this discussion.”

Brett looked down at his dick pic, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. Jenna did her best to avert her eyes, though it was hard. Not the penis—it was actually quite flaccid. Honestly, what was the point in sending a dick pic if it looked like a half-filled water balloon?

Focus, dammit,
she commanded herself, tearing her eyes from the photo. Brett did the same, then frowned at her. “Why
are
you here?”

“Because in case it escaped your notice, this organization is in the midst of one of the most contentious labor battles in its history,” Jenna said, smacking her hand on the table. She meant to underscore the seriousness of her statement, but instead she sent the dick pic flying across the table.

It drifted into Adam’s lap, where he stared at it a moment as though analyzing the appropriate next move. Kendall stared, too, clearly unsure what HR protocol called for in this situation.

At last, Adam picked up the photo by one corner and set it gingerly in front of Brett. “Your penis, sir. If, in fact, it is your penis.”

Brett nodded. “Thank you.”

Jenna sighed. “Brett, you are a key member of the bargaining team, which means you’ve become a high-profile individual as far as the local media is concerned.”

She saw his eyes widen at that, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he looked back at the photo. “The newspaper doesn’t have this, right?”

“We’ve been able to keep it quiet. For now.” She let the words hang there for a moment. The threat wasn’t real—there was no way in hell she’d ever let that happen—but she didn’t need Brett to know that. What she needed was to have him nervous enough never to pull this kind of shit again. At least not until negotiations were over.

“I believe what Jenna is saying,” Adam said, glancing at her, “is that we’re here to offer you a second chance.”

She watched Brett’s frown deepen, and she wondered if he was thinking about retaking the photo. She couldn’t blame the guy. The lighting was all wrong, and the shadow under his balls made it look like he had a strange growth. Honestly, why had Kendall printed the thing at this size? It was practically a poster, though not one she could imagine hanging above her bed.

“A second chance?” Brett swallowed. “Like—I’m not getting fired?”

Adam cleared his throat. “Here’s the deal, Brett. We need to get through these negotiations fairly, legally, and with all parties bringing their viewpoints and experience to the table. As the president of this organization’s bargaining unit for nursing staff, we need you to be part of this.”