Page 41 of About that Fling (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #2)

J enna dialed the phone with trembling fingers, Mia’s words imprinted on her brain in bright, neon letters.

Emergency with Aunt Gertie. Please call right away.

“Mia, hello? What is it, what’s wrong, is Aunt Gertie alive?”

On the other end of the line, Mia gave a surprised gasp. “Alive? Of course she’s alive. You don’t really think I’d use a text message to tell you your aunt died?”

“No, of course not.” Jenna let her body sag, sliding down the wall until her palms pressed into the cold tiles of Beth’s bathroom floor. “I’m sorry. I must just have funerals on the brain or something.”

“That’s some girls’ weekend you’re having there.”

Jenna winced as the sour taste of guilt surged up the back of her throat. Did Mia suspect anything?

“Anyway, sorry to scare you,” Mia said. “There is an emergency, though. You know that screen test Gert asked me to drive her to?”

“Yes. It was for some little cable TV program that broadcasts in Nebraska, right?”

“Wrong. Well, that’s what Gert told us, anyway. Turns out it’s a much bigger deal.”

“How much bigger?”

“Remember that time we went to that male strip club and we saw the one guy with the modest marble sack dancing next to the guy who looked like he’d shoved a salami in there?”

“Um—”

“That much bigger. Like, enormously bigger.”

“Mia, what is it?”

“ Good Morning America . They loved the interview she did with the local station, and they want more. They offered to fly her to New York to tape an in-studio piece that will air later this week.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Jenna dropped her head into her hands, feeling her temples start to pound. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her I needed to call you. Not that she needs your permission, but it seems like something the two of you might want to talk about if she’s going to put herself on-air in front of five million viewers.”

“Oh, God.”

“She didn’t commit yet. She said she wanted to talk to her lawyer first anyway, which I told her was a very good idea. Jenna? Are you still there?”

“I’m here.” She bit her lip. “How much do you think the hospital administration would freak out about this?”

Mia was quiet a moment. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Kinda.”

“Hell, I thought you were worried about her personal safety or privacy or something.”

“That would make me a better person, wouldn’t it?”

Mia laughed. “I think you’re fine, hon. I mean I know you and Gertie have this weird thing going where you pretend she doesn’t write really filthy, amazing smut—which I’ve enjoyed very much, by the way.”

“You and half the women in America.”

“That’s not a bad thing. I know the two of you do your damndest to avoid discussing the fact that she’s this mega-bestselling erotica author, but I think you might be overestimating how much anyone else cares. No offense.”

“None taken.” Jenna bit her lip. “You weren’t at Belmont when the shit hit the fan with the old CEO. You didn’t see how bad things got, how much it affected the staff’s trust in leadership. It tainted the way the whole community saw the hospital system.”

“Honey, you’re missing a key difference here.”

“What’s that?”

“Running an escort service is illegal. Last time I checked, writing smutty books isn’t. Not in this country, anyway.”

Jenna sighed. “Still, things are rocky with the negotiations right now. I don’t want to muddy the waters.”

“Sometimes getting a little dirty isn’t the worst thing. You should try it sometime.”

A fresh wave of guilt knocked Jenna backward, and she glanced at the door.

Had Adam and Beth noticed how long she’d been gone?

She was keeping her voice low, but still.

For some reason, she didn’t want them to hear this.

To know she was huddled in the bathroom whispering with Adam’s ex-wife like they were exchanging covert spy secrets.

“Sweetie, can I say something?” Mia asked.

Jenna drew her attention back to the conversation. “Have you ever needed my permission?”

“Not really. I was just being respectful. I just think you spend too much time worrying what other people will think of you. Just live your life the way you want to live it and don’t get so hung up on everyone else.”

The words felt like little daggers between her ribs, and she glanced at the bathroom door again.

Okay then, Mia—I’m sitting on your ex-sister-in-law’s bathroom floor in the midst of a weekend spent bonding with your former in-laws while alternately consoling your ex-husband and fucking his brains out.

“Jenna? You still there?”

“I’m here.”

“Just think about it, okay? Maybe it’s time you quit worrying so much about everyone else.”

“Okay,” she breathed, not sure she trusted herself to say anything more. “How are things going for you? Is Mark missing you madly while you keep Gert company?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I cooked dinner for Gertie last night, and I invited Mark and Katie to stop by afterward. I made Katie’s favorite peach cobbler, so I thought she might enjoy it, you know?”

“Sure, she’s always loved that.” Dread pooled in her gut. “Did something happen?”

Mia sighed. “Katie said she’s decided to go gluten free because her mom told her it’s healthier.

She wouldn’t eat the cobbler, and then Mark got a text from Ellen asking him to come to the car dealership right away because she was buying a new car and needed him to sign off on the old one she was trading in. His name was still on the title.”

“It couldn’t wait?”

“Apparently not.” Mia sighed again. “I’m trying, Jenna. I’m trying so hard it hurts sometimes.”

“I know you are, honey. Maybe you need to try less. Invest less so you aren’t so disappointed all the time?”

Mia laughed. “Listen to us. You need to care less what other people think, and I need to care less what other people do. Maybe there’s a twelve-step program for us. Think Adam could recommend something?”

“I—I imagine so,” Jenna said, the guilt welling up in her again. “Look, I’d better go. Can you tell Gertie to wait until I get home to make any decisions on the TV show?”

“Will do. You’re coming home tomorrow afternoon?”

“That’s the plan. You’ve got a birthing class at three?”

“Yeah, my last one. Mark and I are going out to dinner afterward. We got a table at Gerlake for the anniversary of when we first moved to Portland.”

“No kidding?” Reservations at Portland’s only Michelin star restaurant were notoriously tough to come by.

“We ate there together when I came out to interview for the job.” Mia’s voice misted with the memory. “Mark practically had to sell a kidney to get us in that night, but it was worth it.”

“You must have booked tonight’s reservation ages ago?”

“More than a year.” She sounded so wistful and earnest. “God, that feels like a lifetime ago. Back before we got pregnant and started bickering and I had to work with my idiot ex every day.”

Jenna’s gut churned. “Not to mention having a pubescent pre-teen on your hands.”

“Right?” Mia sighed.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll be romantic.”

“I hope so. It’s hard to feel romantic when you’re thirty-eight weeks pregnant and threatened by your husband’s relationship with his ex-wife, but I’m doing my best.”

“That’s all anyone can ask, right?”

“Right. If you’re home before I leave for birthing class, maybe we can have coffee? Fucking decaf, of course.”

“Deal. Thanks again for all your help, Mia. I really owe you.”

“Don’t mention it, babe. Have fun with your old roommates.”

“I will,” Jenna said, gulping back a fresh surge of guilt.

On Monday afternoon, Adam pulled Jenna’s car up beside his rental car in the parking garage at his hotel. He turned in the driver’s seat and looked at her. God, he could never get tired of doing that.

“Thank you for going with me this weekend,” he said. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I was honored to be part of it.” She brushed the hair from her eyes and looked deep into his. “Your family is amazing.”

“I know they’d love to see you next month for the memorial service. A lot of the East Coast relatives will be making the trip. Maybe if things keep going like they are between us?—”

He stopped, recognizing the alarm in her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.” She bit her lip. “It’s just that we’re back to reality now, right? Back in Portland, back to real life.”

“Right,” he said, not entirely sure what she was saying.

She touched his hand, the warmth of her fingers a marked contrast to the chill of her words. “We’re still working together, Adam. For several more weeks, possibly months. As far as I know, this is still against company policy.”

“Of course.” He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. “Maybe in a few weeks.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, not meeting his eyes. “I should go. Mia has a birthing class at three, and I told her I’d try to get there before she leaves so we can have a cup of coffee and catch up.”

“Tell her hi for me.”

“Uh—”

He grimaced. “Sorry, force of habit. Kinda like when you called me Shawn in bed last night.”

Her eyes went wide, and he watched the color rise in her cheeks. “I did not!”

He laughed and squeezed her hand. “Did too. Right at the moment you arched your back and?—”

She grabbed the back of his head and pressed her lips to his, cutting off the stream of words and most of his oxygen flow. He didn’t care. He’d only been joking with her, and if he could get a kiss out of the deal, all the better.

Jenna drew back and smiled. “Shut up, Adam.”

“I love you.”

She blinked, fingers still twined in his hair. “What?”

“I said I love you.” He looked in her eyes, not backing down. Not regretting his words one bit. “My segue could use a little work, but it’s true.”

Jenna bit her lip. “I don’t know what to say.”

He shrugged and did his best not to feel disappointed. “You could admit you’re fond of me, maybe compliment my driving or my ass.”

“You know all that’s true,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “And I love you, too. But?—”

“You do?” Hold the phones. She loved him?

Jenna sighed. “You’re ignoring my but.”

“I would never ignore your butt.”