Chapter Eighteen

“Men are nothin’ but trouble,” Clara said as she laid down her cards. “Full house.”

“Agreed,” her twin sister Helen seconded, and Jenna took that to mean Clara’s beau had turned out to be a dud. “Family, friends. That’s more important,” she said.

Aggie threw down her hand. “Cheater. I think you two use that twin thing to cheat.”

“Twin thing?” Tommy asked. “You mean like twin telepathy or something?”

“Nobody’s that good at poker,” Aggie insisted.

“Our mother worked for Bugsy Segal in the forties,” Clara said. “You pick up a few things.”

Nothing surprised Jenna about this motley group of friends any more.

“When are we going for those photographs you talked about?” Aggie asked. “Enid thinks she’s all that. She will be green with envy when she sees my G-string.”

“G-string?” Jenna asked, hiding a smile. She’d filled the ladies in on some of her adventures, and they had a lot of questions about the boudoir photos. After the fiftieth uncomfortable question, Jenna had offered to take the group for their own photo shoot.

“Fold,” Tommy said, catching her eye and sending her an eye roll.

Chuck laid down his hand. “Four of a kind.”

Jenna tossed her cards in the pile, and Chuck scooped up his winnings, about three dollars in pennies.

“Well, that wipes me out,” Clara said, getting up. “Think I’ll lie down for a while before dinner.”

“I’ll join you,” Helen said. “We’ll see you later, dear?” she said to Jenna with a kind note in her voice and a concerned look in her watery blue eyes.

“Where else would I be?” Jenna said with a small smile. It was true. Where else would she be? The tiny little efficiency apartment she’d found, eating a microwaved meal and watching reruns of Gilligan’s Island?

“You want me to call someone?” Chuck asked, raising an eyebrow ominously. “I know people who could make him disappear. No trace,” he said, and Jenna totally believed him.

“Him, who?” Aggie asked. “Elliot or Zach?”

“Either,” he said with a shrug. “Both. You really should have called me back, Jenna,” he said. “I had all the information on Zach and Elliot—everything. You could have used it to turn the tables on them. Could have gotten yourself a nice nest-egg out of the deal.”

“Extortion is a crime,” she reminded him. “So is murder.”

“Only if you get caught.”

“Thank you, no murders today,” Jenna said firmly. The last thing she needed on her hands was a double homicide. Though she was certain that if Chuck was involved, no one would figure it out.

“Well, if you change your mind, all you have to do is call.”

“I know. That’s sweet, Chuck. And a little frightening. Thank you.”

He smiled back, adjusted his ball cap so it shaded his eyes, and headed to the front porch of Sunrise where he like to sit and note people’s comings and goings—keeping himself sharp, he always said. Just in case.

“I have a couple of errands to run,” Jenna said, trying to summon the energy to actually do them. In the weeks since the Paradise Island debacle, she’d gone through the motions of rebooting her life robotically. She’d found a place to live. She’d arranged to get her stuff from Elliot’s penthouse—Niki was only too eager to pack her things and graciously leave them at the front desk for her, now that she’d moved in with Elliot.

Somehow, that didn’t even bother Jenna. There was something about those two, something almost viper-like, that told her they’d actually probably do very well together. It wouldn’t be love—neither was capable of that, she’d come to believe. But they’d use each other and probably get what they each wanted out of the partnership. Niki had money. Elliot had connections. Who was Jenna to judge?

She, meanwhile, had found a job as a temp. Not a great job, but something to bring in a little money while she figured out what she really wanted to do.

And she’d begun to grieve. Jenna didn’t know what she was grieving, exactly. She and Zach hadn’t been a real couple or anything. It was always meant to be temporary.

She was under no illusions that Zach had been telling the truth that day when he blurted out, totally uncharacteristic for him, that he loved her. His declaration had been just another way to try to manipulate. Jenna had told him her deepest truth, about how much she craved being loved and part of a family, and he’d used that information to utter the words he thought would make her forgive everything else so he could…what? That was the question. He’d already gotten everything he needed from her to screw over Elliot and take the client they both wanted.

Oh, well, it didn’t matter. Jenna had moved through stages one through four and was currently on stage five, the upward swing, where she was able to start putting her life back together again. Because deep down, the truth was she did have feelings for Zach. And knowing he was callous enough to throw words at her that were meaningless to him, words she craved in to hear, was more painful than anything else.

He’d been her friend. Or so she’d thought. He’d been her lover. And despite what she’d told herself at the resort, he’d been someone who…well, it didn’t matter now. He’d gotten what he wanted with a little fun in the sack on the side as a bonus.

Oh, who was she kidding? She was still deep in stage four: depression.

“Will you be okay?” Tommy asked, looking at Jenna with the fatherly concern she’d seen from him nonstop since she’d returned.

“Yes,” she said, “I’ll be fine.” Jenna told herself that one hundred times a day at least, knowing it would be true eventually. “I just need to trust less. Love less,” she said.

“Not less,” Tommy said emphatically. He took her hand. “That’s what makes you, you. You just need to love and trust yourself first.”

“Sure. Easy,” Jenna said. “I’ll put that on the list for Tuesday. Right behind ‘get a life.’”

He smiled and patted her shoulder. “We’ll be here for you, believing in you and cheering for you, until you do,” he said. “I hope you know you have a family here.”

It was true. Aggie, Tommy, Chuck, Clara, Helen…they were her family. Not in the blood sense, but they were there for her, always on her side, and were able and willing to tell her the ugly truth, even when she didn’t want to hear it.

“I know,” Jenna said, her eyes suddenly tearing up. “Thank you.”

“Excuse me,” a voice over her shoulder said.

Jenna quickly wiped away the stupid tears as a well-dressed woman stopped a short distance away from the table.

“Can I help you?” Tommy asked, staring at her.

She was maybe ten years younger than Tommy with dark auburn hair pulled back into a professional-looking chignon. She wore a gray pencil shirt, white blouse, and matching blazer. Stylish red-rimmed glasses and red lipstick completed her look. On her feet were heels that could only be described as sex kitten chic. They were a jarring addition to the buttoned-up impression she gave.

“I’m looking for Miss Jenna Taylor.”

Tommy was fixated on those heels, there was no two ways about it, but when she said Jenna’s name, his expression became guarded. “What do you want with Miss Taylor?” he asked, crossing his arms. Her protector. Always.

“I’m Jenna,” she said, touching Tommy’s arm to let him know he could stand down.

“Can we…talk a moment?” the woman asked.

Tommy looked at Jenna, waiting. “I’ll be fine,” she said.

Tommy looked at the woman again like she was about to break out some ninja moves then took Aggie’s arm.

“We’ll be right over there,” he said, pointing to a pair of easy chairs a short distance away.

“Thanks, Tommy.”

“Your father?” the woman asked, watching him walk away.

“No—well, yes, kind of,” Jenna said, realizing that’s exactly what he was. She smiled.

“That’s not his wife,” the woman said. It wasn’t really a question.

“No, his mother. I’m sorry, who are you?”

The woman tore her gaze away from Tommy and turned to face her. She cleared her throat. “Yes. Well, I’m Marcy Walker. From Zach Ruiz’s office.”

Instantly, Jenna tensed up.

Marcy examined Jenna’s face, and she was sure she saw what Jenna saw in the mirror that morning. Red eyes, puffy face. Messy hair. Yoga pants and an old T-shirt that were the most effort she could muster in dressing herself.

“Was there something you needed? Some other piece of information he didn’t get from me the first time?” Jenna asked, an edge to her voice. She scooted out the chair, ready to walk away.

Marcy’s hand on her arm stilled her.

“Just a second,” she said. “Please.”

Something in her voice made Jenna pause and sit down again. She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. “It’s a plane crash, isn’t it?” she asked. “I mean, not that I care if his plane crashed or a bus hit him or anything but…”

Jenna opened her eyes to see a small smile on Marcy’s lips. “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined that scenario,” she said. “Especially in the last few days. But no, he’s fine.”

Jenna exhaled softly, relieved. “I’m not sure why you’re here.”

She paused, looking at Jenna for a second. “I’ve been out of town for the past two weeks,” she said.

“Closing the Tower deal?” she asked snippily. “That’s great. I’ll take my part of the commission in cash, please.”

“We didn’t close the deal,” she said. “I was on vacation. With my nephew.”

So after all that, Zach hadn’t closed the deal with Tower Media. Jenna wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or sad. She was just…nothing. And so she just stared at Marcy blankly, wondering what the hell she was doing here. What she wanted.

“I’d never been on a real vacation,” she said. “And since I adopted my nephew last year, there wasn’t time. I needed to work, and Mr. Ruiz is very good at keeping me busy.”

Jenna thought of just a few of the things Zach had asked of Marcy when she’d known him. He relied on her a lot. Jenna was sure he was not the easiest man to work for.

“I can imagine.”

“Mr. Ruiz can be challenging to work for and to know. He gets very involved in his work. He forgets to eat. Forgets to sleep. Forgets that other people have lives and families and things outside working for him to do. Forgets to appreciate them. I don’t know if you noticed that sometimes he’s not much of a people person.”

“Yeah.” His business was everything. The only thing. People were only a vehicle to get what he wanted for his business.

“But a few weeks ago, something happened to him, Miss Taylor.” She clutched her purse, looking away for a moment then back. “It’s as if he woke up. All of a sudden, like lightning hit him. Or…love.”

Jenna shook her head. This woman was unbelievable. “Is this in your job description? Coming to try to sell that tired line to me on his behalf? You get paid extra for that?” She was disgusted.

“I know it’s, well, hard to believe given the way he’s behaved.” She frowned as if she was talking about a naughty charge. She did kind of have that nanny vibe.

“Uh, yeah,” Jenna said. “And he told me that on the day I left.” It hurt, even now, to know that he’d looked at Jenna with such earnestness, looked right into her eyes, and lied to her.

“He…told you that he loved you?”

“He was desperate for his little sham not to fall apart,” she said.

“I wasn’t sure he even knew,” Marcy said under her breath to herself. And she smiled a little.

“What is it he wanted you to accomplish by telling me this?” Jenna asked.

“He doesn’t know I’m here,” she said. “And he’s not going to be happy if he finds out. I’ve been instructed not to meddle.”

“You should listen to the boss,” Jenna said. “Or he’s going to be hiring a new assistant.”

She smiled tightly. “He already has. To take my old position.” She handed Jenna her business card.

Marcy L. Walker, Vice President

“So you got a promotion out of all of this,” she said. “Even though you two didn’t close the deal. Congratulations.”

She ignored Jenna’s sarcasm. “As I said, Zach has changed. He didn’t want to spend as much time in the office, he said.”

“That doesn’t sound like Zach.”

“Exactly my point.”

“What…what’s he been doing, then?”

“Pretty much what you appear to have been doing,” she said, eyeing the questionable cleanliness of Jenna’s T-shirt and yoga pants. “Wallowing.”

“Wallowing?” Zach was not a wallower. He was a doer. A burier of self in work. That’s what he’d told her and what she’d seen with her own eyes.

“Well, wallowing at first. Now he’s…painting.”

“Like, walls?”

“No. Like landscapes. On canvas. Ocean scenes, mostly. A few starfish. A deformed hummingbird. They’re terrible.” She shook her head in dismay. “It’s very disconcerting for all of us.”

Painting. Huh.

“I never knew he was an artist.”

“‘Art’ is an optimistic description for what he’s producing. But it’s out of the ordinary for him. And that’s how I know.”

“Know?”

“That he’s in love with you.”

Jenna shook her head. “You can’t really believe that,” she said. “He was using me. Pumping me for information about a client.”

“A client he cancelled a meeting with.”

“Wait, he cancelled? I saw the presentation folder that morning…”

“After he posted bail, he—”

“Bail? He was arrested? For what?” Jenna pictured insider trading or embezzlement or something.

“Assault and battery,” she said. “Mr. Hansen pressed charges when Mr. Ruiz punched him out in Florida.”

“Wait.” Jenna shook her head. She’d either entered a portal into some kind of alternate universe or had finally cracked. “Zach punched Elliot?”

She nodded. “Your cousin, Niki, called the cops and told them Zach had just seen red and punched him in the face. Broke his nose.”

Jenna sat back, stunned. It must have happened while she was hiding in the shower that morning at the spa.

“Why?”

“I believe it was when Mr. Hansen offered to trade you for the Tower Media account.”

Jenna didn’t know what to say. None of it made any sense.

“Mr. Hansen dropped the case,” she said. “Didn’t want the negative publicity.”

“No, that would be the last thing he wanted.”

“He even offered to do a partnership on the deal. Zach would provide the data services and Mr. Hansen would handle the account.”

“Sounds exactly up Zach’s alley,” she said. “All the data, no peopling.”

“That’s what I thought. Then he told Elliot to go to hell, handed me two tickets to Disney World, promoted me to Vice President, and turned into Bob Ross. Only without the perm. Or artistic skills.”

Jenna just sat and stared at Marcy, unsure how to process things and not sure what any of it meant.

But Jenna wasn’t the same person she’d been even a couple of months before.

“I know you care for Zach, Marcy. And I think it’s nice that you’re trying to help him. But this isn’t my problem. I didn’t cause any of this, and it’s not up to me to solve it. It’s not up to me to make him feel better. He made his choice. And I’ve made mine.”

Jenna stood, the message that she was done with the conversation loud and clear.

Marcy stood. “I see,” she said. “And you’re not wrong. About any of it.” She grinned at Jenna. “You’re not the woman I thought you were. And I mean that in the best possible way.”

Jenna nodded. “I’m just done dealing with everyone else’s bullshit.”

“I understand completely. Believe me.”

Jenna softened a little. Marcy was tough and independent. And maybe Jenna was, too.

Hell yeah, she was.

And she was going to be fine. She was going to live her life the way she wanted to live it. Say what she wanted to say. Do what she wanted to do. No explanations, no apologies. Just like Aggie. Only she wasn’t going to wait until she was eighty to start. She was starting right now.

“Regardless, please consider calling him. His personal cell number is on the back of the card. And his home address. And here’s an extra key to his apartment.”

She placed the key on the table next to her card. “I can’t even begin to imagine the state of his apartment or his shower status, but he should be home. Any day of the week. Any time.” She shuddered slightly. “Just call. Or better yet, drop by.”

Jenna managed a nod before Marcy walked away, her high heels clicking smartly on the tile.

“Are you okay?” Tommy asked, rushing over as soon as Jenna was alone.

“Yes,” she said, putting her hand over the card and the key to Zach’s place. “I totally am.”