About That Fling (5 page)

“Okay, talk,” she whispered.

He shook his head, looking around at the black-painted walls. “I’ve gotta give you credit. This is private. Weird, but private.”

“
Weird
doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

Someone pounded on the outside of the booth. “If you’re going to be in there together, you need to pay to play,” the clerk called. “Feed the meter, folks.”

“What?” Jenna glanced around, not sure if she was looking for hidden cameras or an escape route. Why on earth had she let Gertie talk her into coming here?

“The movies,” Adam said, reaching for her. At least it looked like he was reaching for her. Instead, he slid a dollar bill into a slot behind her right hip and pressed a button. The television screen flickered to life, and Jenna blinked as her eyes adjusted to the blare of light and sound.

“What the—?”

“People come in here to get their rocks off,” Adam whispered. “Not to hold professional meetings. Avert your eyes if you need to.”

“Good Lord, is that porn or a circus act?”

“Must be some sort of clown fetish channel. Hang on, I’ll change it.”

Jenna tried to look away, but found she couldn’t. She wasn’t averse to pornography, but she never realized there was such variety.

“There,” Adam said, settling on a video that featured a busty young woman talking to a plumber. He drew his hand back and looked at her, and Jenna felt her breath catch in her throat. God, had she noticed before how green his eyes were?

You noticed. Damn straight you noticed.

She forced herself to swallow. “What did you need to talk about?”

“Oh, I don’t know—the weather?” He folded his arms over his chest. “The price of petroleum? European Dadaist painters of the early twentieth century? How about the fact that my ex-wife is your colleague and your employer is now my employer and we need to figure out how to deal with that in a professional manner?”

Jenna fought the urge to flinch. “I honestly had no idea. I swear—”

“I know, I believe you,” he said, holding up his hands in mock defense. “It’s not like our first meeting was a free exchange of factual information.”

“No, we were too busy exchanging other things,” she muttered, and felt the corners of her mouth start to lift in spite of her effort to keep her frown in place.

“I’m not complaining, but it does complicate things,” he said. “How well do you know Amelia?”

“Amelia?”

“Mia. I guess she goes by Mia now. My ex-wife.”

“Very well. We met in a support group a couple years ago and spent a lot of time baring our souls. We’re extremely close.”

“Support group?”

Jenna swallowed, not wanting to reveal too much of her best friend’s personal information. Or her own.

“We know each other well,” she repeated. “I’ve heard plenty of stories about you. Not that I knew it was you.”

“Right.” She could see his jaw clenching and unclenching, but he didn’t say more.

“Sounds like it was a contentious divorce.”

“You could say that.”

“I know she was unfaithful.”

She watched his eyebrows lift, and for an instant, Jenna worried she’d spilled the beans on some long-hidden secret.

But Adam just shook his head. “I’m surprised she mentioned that. I wouldn’t think that’s something she’d go around telling people.”

“She’s not proud of it, Adam. She knows she made mistakes, and she owns that. Just as I imagine you own some part of the blame for the marriage going off the rails?”

He was quiet a long time, and Jenna could swear she heard the sound of wheels turning in his head. Or maybe that was the smack of flesh on the screen over her shoulder. She fought the urge to glance at the television as the moaning grew louder.

Adam sighed. “My divorce isn’t the biggest issue here. The conflict is that you and I slept together.” He raked his fingers through his hair, an oddly endearing gesture. “I’ll be honest, I’d hoped to see you again. Not just for sex, but to get to know you.”

“I’m sure we’ll get to know each other through the mediation process.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” She sighed. “I wanted to get to know you, too, but I don’t think that’s possible. Belmont has strict policies about dating among co-workers. Even though you’re a contractor, we’re both members of the bargaining team, which technically makes us part of the same department.”

She looked down at her hands, which were clenched so tightly around her purse that her knuckles had gone white. She released them and felt the blood surge into her fingers. She met his eyes again. “Look, rules aside, I’m not comfortable with anyone at work knowing what happened between us,” she said. “I take my career seriously, and I’m not willing to risk things getting awkward in the mediation process.”

Adam nodded, his expression unreadable. “Fair enough.”

She let the words hang there between them a moment as the flicker of writhing bodies filled the small space. Moans of pleasure pulsed in the air, and Jenna desperately wanted it to be a turnoff.

But it wasn’t. Or at least
he
wasn’t. Adam was standing so close she could smell the grassy scent of his shampoo, could feel the heat radiating from his body. She ordered herself to take a step back, but found herself moving toward him instead.

She took a deep breath and felt it catch in her throat. “I don’t want Mia to know.”

“About what happened with us?”

She nodded. “It was a one-time thing, so there’s really no point in putting a strain on my friendship with her.”

He seemed to hesitate, then nodded. “I suppose you’re right. She’s not the sort to see the humor in the situation.”

The words stung for some reason. Something about his familiarity with another woman, the intimacy between two people who’d once been married. She tried again to put some space between herself and Adam, but found her feet rooted in place.

“Right, so we agree?” she said, releasing her death grip on her purse so it dangled freely from her shoulder. “No sense complicating careers or friendships by ever speaking of this again?”

“Agreed.”

She tried to read his expression. Was it wistful or just uncomfortable? Should they shake hands, or just say goodbye? Jenna held her breath, not moving.

When he leaned toward her, she felt her whole body dissolve. Her limbs responded without orders from her brain, and she slid her hands behind his neck as she arched up to meet him.

His kiss was hesitant at first. Then there was no hesitation at all as Adam pressed into her, his lips everywhere at once, his hands solid on her hips. She kissed him back, fingers hungry to explore each curve of muscle in his back. She devoured him, surprised at her own aggression, but knowing this was the last time she’d ever do this with him. His tongue found hers, and her hands tunneled though his hair, deepening the kiss.

When she drew back, they were both breathless.

He smiled, hands still on her hips. “What was that for?”

“You leaned down to kiss me.”

“I was moving to—”

Someone banged on the wall outside. “Pay to play, you two!” the clerk shouted.

Adam shoved another dollar bill into the slot. Jenna swallowed and finally took a step back. “Right. I should be going.”

“Not yet,” he said, catching her hand in his before she could make an escape. “Why are you at a porn shop for your aunt?”

“She’s elderly and can’t drive,” Jenna said, cursing her hand for reveling in the warmth of his. “She needed me to pick up a few things for a bridal shower she’s attending. Lube, crotchless panties, some sort of whip, and an instructional DVD.”

“Wow. That sounds like some bridal shower.”

“There’s no bridal shower.” Jenna shook her head. “It’s this little game we play where my elderly aunt pretends she’s not a sex goddess who writes wildly popular erotica under a pen name to pay her medical bills.”

“What?”

“And I go along with it and pretend she just bakes pies and does crossword puzzles because it’s easier than having an awkward conversation.”

“You’re kidding me.”

Jenna shook her head. “Look, it started out innocently enough with my aunt writing a few short stories under a pseudonym, but the whole thing snowballed into this crazy erotica career that’s taken off like gangbusters in the last month and I don’t know how to handle it and—” she stopped, realizing she’d just revealed more to Adam than she had to anyone, ever. She shook her head. “Never mind. Suffice it to say, my aunt and I don’t talk about her writing. It’s easier that way.”

Adam stared at her, the corners of his mouth ticking up in a smile. “That’s an interesting family dynamic you have there.”

“You have no idea.” She sighed. “Look, it’s not just me being a prude. Belmont has certain expectations of its executives. As health-care providers, they have to be above reproach in all things—even their families.”

“But your aunt is writing dirty books, not running a brothel.”

Jenna grimaced. “I see you’ve heard about the old CEO and his wife. For the record, I did my best to do damage control on that one, but there’s only so much I can cover up.”

“So that’s your job,” he said. “Covering things up. I wondered what the hell a Chief Relations Officer did.”

“I handle all kinds of things, ranging from media relations to personnel issues, but yes—I suppose it all comes down to getting paid to sweep bad things under the rug and blow sunshine up people’s butts.”

“At least you’re honest.”

She gave him a smile she knew wouldn’t reach her eyes and pushed the door open. “Honest,” she repeated, stepping into the daylight. “I’m always honest about the things I can’t be honest about.”

She turned and walked away, feeling his eyes on her as she vanished out the door.

C
hapte
r
F
our

“A maternity wedding dress? Honestly, what will they think of next.”

Jenna reached under the table and gave Mia’s hand a squeeze, not sure whether she meant to comfort her best friend or keep her from lunging across the table to throttle the cousin who sat smirking in a hideous pink hat.

Mia gritted her teeth so hard Jenna could hear the sound. She gave her friend’s hand another squeeze and reached for her wineglass.

“This is excellent wine,” Jenna offered, hoping to change the subject. “Really, Mia, the whole reception is lovely. This was such a wonderful idea.”

Across the table, the cousin snorted. “Wonderful? You think it’s wonderful she didn’t invite any of her friends and family to the wedding but she has this fancy-schmantzy reception at an expensive hotel so she can still get all the gifts?”

“We asked people not to bring gifts, Harriet,” Mia said tightly, her wedding band biting into Jenna’s hand as she squeezed back. “It said so right on the invitation. And the rental fee on the reception room was a gift from my employer because we do a lot of business with this hotel.”

“Hmph,” Harriet said, turning back to the stack of wedding photos in her hand. “The dress is white. You can’t wear white if you’ve been married before, especially not if you wore white for your first wedding. The bouquet you carried for that one, by the way, was—”

“How about we talk about something else?” Mark announced from the head of the table. Mia turned and gave her new husband a wilted smile of appreciation and released her death grip on Jenna’s hand.

“Yes, let’s,” Mia said. “Jenna, how was your date last night?”

Harriet gave a grunt of disapproval and stood up, flouncing off toward the canapé table. Jenna watched her go, wondering how much longer she should wait before making an excuse to go home and change from her party dress into yoga pants.

She turned back to Mia. “Date?”

“Didn’t you say you were going to see that guy again?” Mia asked. “The one you met at the wine bar.”

“Oh, right.” Jenna took a sip of wine, reminding herself not to gulp it. “We decided it wasn’t going to work out. Our schedules are too busy and there just wasn’t enough chemistry.”

“Not enough chemistry?” Mia snorted. “Girl, I saw you the morning after you met him. You were oozing with so much chemistry you could have recited the periodic table of elements backward.”

“Not true.” Jenna frowned. “Also a little weird. Besides, he lives out of town.”

“So? Long distance relationships can work, especially if they make you look like you did that morning. Seriously, Mark, you should have seen her.” Mia leaned toward her husband, hand on his arm. “She was practically glowing. I don’t know what that guy did to her in bed, but he should probably patent it.”

Jenna choked on her wine. “Right, well, all the same, I’m not going to see him again. Mark, how are things at work?”

Mark gave her a sympathetic smile and took the hint. “Things are great, thanks for asking. We just landed a contract to build the new Parks and Recreation building over in Gresham. The steel erection should go through the summer, so I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

Mia grinned at him and picked up a stuffed mushroom cap. “Have I told you how sexy I find it when you talk about your work?” She popped the mushroom into her mouth and snuggled closer. “And also that you can say things like ‘steel erection’ and not mean anything dirty.”

“I might have meant it a little bit dirty.”

Mia laughed and turned back to Jenna. “Seriously, what is it about guys who work with their hands for a living? I can’t believe it took me ’til my early thirties to discover I’m more turned on by a guy with a tool belt than a guy with a briefcase.”

Jenna took another hit of wine and tried not to think about Adam’s briefcase as Mark planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead. “Come on now, let’s give Jenna a break and talk about something else. I take it things are still tense at work for you two?”

Jenna nodded and set her wineglass down. “The new mediator they brought in spent half the week explaining why throwing things wasn’t conducive to labor negotiations.”

“How’d that go?”

“The CEO didn’t take it well at first, but then the mediator asked about the stapler-throwing incident and asked when the CEO is getting his stitches out and—”

“You don’t have to call him the mediator, Jenna,” Mark said gently. “I know it’s Adam. It’s okay. Mia and I talked about it. If she’s okay with her ex-husband working with the team, I totally support that.”

Mia rested a hand on her belly. “A man who’s secure—also a turn-on, in case you’re wondering.”

“I wasn’t,” Jenna said. “But Mark could stand on his head and juggle flaming rutabagas and you’d be turned on.”

“Good point.”

Mark shook his head and gave his wife a fond look. “There’s nothing to be insecure about. It’s water under the bridge, and as long as we talk about it, I don’t have any problem with your ex being a part of your work environment.”

“Open communication and honesty,” Mia said, nudging Jenna with her elbow. “Who knew it was that simple?” She frowned. “It’s not awkward for you, is it?”

Jenna swallowed. “Awkward? Why would it be awkward for me?”

“I just don’t want anyone on the team to feel weird about having my ex-husband there. I know we lived in Chicago when the divorce happened, so you’re really the only one at Belmont who knows the details of how it all went down. How bad things were. Still—”

“It’s fine, Mia,” Jenna lied. “He seems very—um, very competent.”

“He does seem that way, doesn’t he?” She fell quiet a moment, looking down at her water glass. “I have to admit, the touchy-feely communication stuff surprised me a little.”

“What do you mean?”

“Communication was never his forte. I remember our fifth anniversary when I really wanted him to surprise me with a trip to Hawaii. I spent the whole year talking about it, signing him up for e-mail lists for these resorts on Kauai and buying this cute piggy bank so we could save for it.”

Jenna wasn’t sure she wanted to hear more, but couldn’t stop herself from asking. “What happened?”

“Our anniversary rolled around, and he said he had to work late.” Mia swallowed, looking stung instead of playful. “At first I thought he was kidding and that he planned to show up and whisk me away to the airport. But when he came home from the office near midnight and just crawled into bed, I knew it wasn’t going to happen.”

Jenna bit her lip. “I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”

“God, no—I’m sorry.” Mia rubbed her palms over her cheeks and shook her head. “Look at me, going on about my divorce when I’m here celebrating my life with this amazing man.”

“It’s okay, hon,” Mark said, planting another kiss along her hairline. “It’s your party, you can cry if you want to.”

“Cheeseball,” she said with fondness, smacking him on the arm. “You want to dance?”

“I’d love to.” He pushed back from the table and stood up. “You okay here, Jenna?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to get some fresh air. Maybe call Aunt Gertie to check on her.”

“Tell her I wish she could have been here,” Mia said as her husband lifted her to her feet. “I hope she feels better.”

“She thinks it’s just a touch of food poisoning, nothing to worry about. It’s also possible she just wanted a few hours alone to get some work done.”

“Still, there’s a nasty stomach bug going around. You can’t be too careful with older folks.”

“I’m watching her closely,” Jenna said, picking up her wineglass as she stood. It was still half full, so she carried it with her as she moved toward the door of the banquet room. She glanced back over her shoulder to see Mia melting into her husband’s arms, her face glowing with happiness. Something twisted in Jenna’s gut, and she turned back toward the door.

The instant she stepped into the hall, she breathed a little easier. The Spanx weren’t helping, and she considered slipping into the bathroom to remove them. She decided against it and moved toward the hotel lobby. She started in that direction, then spotted a sign beside the stairwell.

Roof.

A much better place for privacy, and there’d be plenty of fresh air up there. She pulled open the door to the stairwell, then bent down and yanked off her high heels. Gripping them in one hand and her wineglass in the other, she trudged up the stairs, her dress riding up her thighs as she counted her way past the third floor, fourth floor, fifth floor, and onward.

She was breathing hard by the time she reached the top. She pushed through the door and into the bright wash of daylight. The sky was milky, but it wasn’t raining, and the sun shone oddly bright through the film of clouds above. Late August weather in Portland could be unpredictable, and she’d heard there might be thunderstorms in the forecast.

A gust of wind tugged the hem of her dress as she stepped barefoot onto the warm tar surface of the hotel roof, dropping her shoes at the corner of a giant fan.

A stray piece of paper skittered across her path as the breeze carried the scent of cottonwood trees and food from a street fair in the park below. She took a few steps forward, letting the door fall shut behind her as she reached into her purse for her phone.

She froze when she spotted him. A lone figure sitting cross-legged on a bench beside the ledge. She had to squint at first, her eyes fighting to adjust to the glare of light through filmy clouds, but she would have known that body anywhere. He had a laptop open in front of him, and a half-finished sandwich on a tray off to the side. His dark hair was cut short, but spiked a little in the front like he’d been running his hands through it.

She must have gasped, because he looked up then. He blinked, motionless for what seemed like an eternity, green eyes locked on hers.

“Oh,” Jenna said, and spilled wine down the front of her dress.

“I’m not an expert on wine,” Adam said, jumping up to hand her a wad of napkins. “But I think the object is to get it into your mouth and not your cleavage.”

His hand brushed hers as she took the napkins, and he felt something electric in his knuckles. He was close enough to feel the heat from her arms as she looked down in horror at the bloom of liquid on the front of her dress.

“God, I’m glad I’m drinking Pinot Grigio and not Merlot,” she muttered, mopping at the space between her breasts. “Hopefully this won’t stain.”

Adam watched, noticing the way the tops of her breasts glistened with spilled wine. He felt his brain spin and fought the urge to sit down.

“Here, let me grab the salt,” he offered, hurrying back to his lunch tray.

“Now’s not the time for margaritas.”

“It’s always time for margaritas, but that’s not what this is for.” He snatched the shaker in one hand and turned back to her. “This is how you get wine out of linen. That is linen, right?”

“Right. Ugh, I’m going to be sticky.”

“Could you stop touching yourself like that? You’re turning me on.”

Jenna looked up, her cheeks flushed, her dark hair pulled back in some sort of complicated twist that Adam ached to unravel with his fingers. Instead, he plucked the sodden napkin out of her hand.

“Seriously, stop rubbing it,” he said, handing her the saltshaker. “You’ll set the stain. Just cover it in this and wait ’til it dries.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” She pulled the fabric away from her body, then let it fall back against the curve of her breasts. All the blood remaining in Adam’s brain vacated the premises.

“It’s not exactly a flat surface,” she pointed out.

“I noticed,” he said. “I’m grateful.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, what do I do? Should I just shake some on the stain or what?”

“Here, let me help.”

He reached for the saltshaker again, fingers grazing hers as he took it from her. He plucked the fabric away from her chest, trying to be as clinical as possible about the whole operation, but how the hell was he supposed to do that with his finger dipping into the warm hollow between her breasts? He’d managed to stay professional all week at Belmont, not letting his libido surge at the sight of Jenna or his anger surge at the sight of his ex-wife. But now—