The distinct smell of ammonia filled the air as Jenny followed Kathryn into her apartment, which was a shame, because she was looking forward to experiencing every nuance of her living quarters, and she was pretty sure ammonia potpourri was not the norm.
Kathryn’s was the only apartment above a three-car garage in the short but deep building tucked in between two taller buildings on Jane Street, in Greenwich Village.
A long expanse of honey-colored hardwood flooring defined the living room area, and Jenny followed the line of its planking until it was interrupted by a rolled-up carpet and a bucket with a mop handle protruding from it in the center of the room.
“Sorry,” Kathryn said, sliding it to the side with her foot. “Real glamorous, huh?”
“Well, there’s more to life than glamor.”
Kathryn gasped and put a hand to her heart. “Say it ain’t so.” She grinned as she slipped off her shoes and then tilted her head toward the long hall. “Come on, let’s get you a shirt.”
Jenny slipped off her shoes while she pulled her pale green blouse from her skirt. The apartment was bigger than she thought from the outside but not as big as it could have been because of a beautiful grand piano taking up a good portion of the living room. It was a Steinway, with a hand-rubbed satin finish on its mahogany body rather than the customary black lacquer high gloss. The warmth of the wood blended beautifully with the warm hues and cool color accents of the living space.
She entered the bedroom after Kathryn, who went to the closet and opened the door.
“Pick anything you like. I need to make a quick telephone call, and then I’ll get the first-aid kit.”
After Kathryn left the room, Jenny unbuttoned her shirt and took in the space with curious eyes. The walls were a soft yellow that complemented nicely the muted flowered drapes that adorned the windows. An antique armoire with a full-length mirror was on the far wall, and adjacent to that was a vanity with a collection of small glass bottles dotting the surface. She smelled traces of Kathryn’s perfume, which made her remember their first meeting in the ladies’ room of The Grotto. That seemed ages ago, and she realized she didn’t know Kathryn any better now than she did then, only that there remained an undeniable pull whenever they were together. Whether they were on good terms or bad, she wanted to be near her.
She heard the low murmur of Kathryn’s voice from the living room and remembered that voice telling her that she’d gotten to her. It had been a month since that confession, and Jenny had given up hope that Kathryn would contact her to explore that further. Kathryn was in a tough spot because of her assignment to Forrester, so she’d left it up to her to renew their friendship. When she didn’t, Jenny understood it was just too complicated, or perhaps she still couldn’t forgive her for the gun incident.
Fortunately, she’d been so busy with her new job that she didn’t have time to dwell on the loss of their friendship and the potential relationship she’d felt forming between them. Seeing her again, though, Jenny sensed no trace of the anger that had torn them apart, and she had renewed hope for their future, one that found her standing in Kathryn’s bedroom with her shirt unbuttoned.
Continuing her glance around the room, she noted a dresser and a matching set of nightstands residing on each side of a woven bamboo headboard that loomed over a very comfortable looking bed. She quickly turned her attention to the closet before her mind went some place her body might not be welcome.
She let her shirt fall from her shoulders, which left it hanging listlessly from her elbows. As she leaned into the closet to make a quick selection, Kathryn came back into the room.
“I don’t know whether I have a Band-Aid big eno— whoops,” Kathryn stopped short, looking up from the box in her hand. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s your house.” The scene was a mirror of one that had occurred at her house, when she walked in on Kathryn putting a shirt on, but Jenny waited in vain for the continuation of that scene. “Isn’t this where you say you’re not used to seeing half-naked women in your bedroom?”
Kathryn smiled but avoided looking her way as she crossed the room and set the first-aid items on the nightstand beside the bed.
“You’re right,” she said, sitting on the bed and making eye contact. “I’m not used to seeing half-naked women in my bedroom.” She leaned back on one elbow and crossed her legs. “If there’s a woman in my bedroom, she’s usually completely naked.”
Jenny was momentarily stunned at the inviting gaze and its accompanying smirk and decided two could play at that game. “Is that a prerequisite? Because I could—” She stuck a thumb under her bra strap, lifting it slightly off her shoulder.
Kathryn laughed and patted the soft white material of her seashell-embossed duvet cover. “Here, let me take a look at that.” She sat up and reached for the first-aid items.
Jenny gave up on the closet and obeyed, walking the few steps to the bed.
Kathryn handed over a sterile gauze pad and the antiseptic. “You clean. It’ll hurt less if you do it yourself.”
Jenny sat and took the items, soaking the pad with antiseptic. She sucked the sting through her teeth as she applied the cleanser to her wound. “Says you. Ow.”
Kathryn echoed the hiss. “Sorry.” She tore open another gauze square and picked up the roll of white medical tape.
“Damn,” Jenny said as she dabbed at the cuts. Two tracks of raised welts crowned with two short ragged gashes were still trying to bleed. “I think this is going to leave a scar. Jerk.”
A flashback of the attack washed over her. His filthy hands were on her face and she couldn’t free herself. The momentary panic sent a jolt through her system. Her chest tightened and her breath caught.
Kathryn’s hand gently touched her shoulder. “What is it?”
“I hated feeling so helpless.”
“It’s an awful feeling.”
Jenny nodded, keeping her emotions in check. Remembering Kathryn’s strength during the attack gave her strength now, like victory would always be possible, even when it seemed hopeless. “The way you took care of that guy, I can’t imagine you being helpless.”
Kathryn smiled. It was an odd smile, Jenny noticed, all knowing and melancholy because of it. Her eyes widened, and then she mentally slapped herself as the story she’d heard about Kathryn’s imprisonment by the enemy overseas hit her like a brick. How could she have forgotten that! Of course she knew what helplessness felt like. Jenny could hardly believe it was true. It was so far removed from the woman sitting on the bed beside her getting ready to tend her wounds that it was impossible to picture her in such dire circumstances. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
Jenny was glad Kathryn couldn’t read minds. “For messing up your day.”
Kathryn chuckled. “If rescuing a pretty girl is the worst thing that happens in my day …”
Jenny’s eyes lifted, and she sat a little straighter. Kathryn called her pretty.
She cut off a strip of white tape and attached it to a folded piece of gauze. Jenny reached for it just as Kathryn leaned in to position it over her chest.
“Oh,” they both said simultaneously as their hands collided.
“I thought …” Jenny said, flustered, thinking that Kathryn was handing her the bandage.
“No, I … oh. Here.” Kathryn offered the bandage, now hanging limply from her finger.
“No, no,” Jenny said.
They played hot potato with the dressing for a moment, both insisting the other do the deed until, finally, their hands were a tangled bundle of tape, gauze, and fingers.
Kathryn laughed. “Nuts.”
“Shit,” Jenny said, as they both gave up on the mangled dressing.
Kathryn gently peeled her fingers free. “Here, let me make you a new one.”
Jenny straightened out the tape. “It’s okay, I’ve got it.” She placed the bandage firmly in place over the wound and tried not to lament the lost opportunity of Kathryn’s hands between her breasts. She almost laughed out loud at her desperation.
“Are you sure you don’t want someone to look at that?” Kathryn asked. “That’s a lot of blood for such a small wound.”
“It’s fine. I’m a slow clotter.”
A faint crease of worry appeared in Kathryn’s brow, and Jenny tried not to shake her head. Kathryn had one heck of a maternal streak hidden beneath that cool exterior. It was flattering, but, at the same time, annoying, because it made her feel even younger than her twenty-four years, and appearing younger was not the impression she wanted to give.
“You need to relax. It’s just a scratch. It’ll heal in no time. Look …” She turned, letting one side of her draped shirt fall from her shoulder, purposely exposing most of her chest in an effort to prove she was no mere child. “Clean bandage, no blood.”
Kathryn couldn’t help but grin as Jenny playfully leaned her ample bosom in her direction. It was obvious what she was trying to do, and she had to hand it to Jenny for her tenacity. Nearly at heaven’s gate less than an hour ago and here she was, on the make already.
She found it endearing, as she did most of Jenny’s seductive antics, and she turned her head before the blush creeping up her neck reached her face.
She gathered the discarded bandage wrappers. “Pick out a shirt.”
Jenny stood and shrugged her blouse over her shoulders. Kathryn could tell Jenny was disappointed that she didn’t want to play.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to play. It actually took a great deal of restraint not to gently cradle her breasts in her hands and place soothing kisses on each one. She missed Jenny. She missed her honesty, her ambition, her kindness, and, yes, her endless attempts at seduction, but most of all, she missed her starry-eyed optimism. She didn’t let tragedy and guilt define her as she had. She allowed purpose to carry her forward, with hope at her heels trying to keep up. Kathryn’s purpose carried her forward into darkness. Jenny was the light leading her out.
It was selfish. She could only drag Jenny down with her. She’d told herself that over and over. For Jenny’s own good, when her assignment to her was over, they would be over. The longing for her would cease. It was a product of her own making, after all—the legend she’d created to draw Jenny into her web while she completed her assignment. She’d done it dozens of times, but this time was different. The longing didn’t cease. She pretended it had, because she was good at pretending, but the moment she saw her in danger, all the lies fell at her feet and Jenny was her beacon of hope again.
Staring at her back while she gazed into her closet with her hands on her hips, Kathryn wanted to embrace her from behind and kiss her soft neck. “I missed you,” she’d say, and Jenny would turn in her arms for a long-awaited kiss. Kathryn closed her eyes and admonished herself. Hold her in your heart, not in your chains. She took a silent deep breath and let it out slowly before getting back to the matter at hand.
“See anything you like?”
“Crisp white shirt or crisp white shirt?” Jenny said with a smile.
“Hm. Not exactly the back room at Loehmann’s, is it?”
“And for some reason, I thought it would be.”
“You’ll be disappointed to know my taste in clothes is pretty pedestrian, I’m afraid. Sorry.”
Jenny chuckled. “Hm, I must have missed that day. You’re always so impeccably dressed. I was expecting evening gowns and tailored suits and such.”
“You want to wear an evening gown to work?”
“No, I just—” Jenny looked over her shoulder, and Kathryn smiled to let her know she was kidding.
“The gowns aren’t mine. They belong to The Grotto.”
“Seriously?”
“Mm. I have a few, but there’s no need to keep them here. The others, Nicky gets from various designers around town. I’m just the prêt-à-porter singing mannequin.”
“Nice work if you can get it.”
“No complaints from this working stiff. The bulk of my personal wardrobe is at Forrester’s estate right now.”
She would wear a set of clothes out there, and more often than not, Forrester would have a set that he preferred laid out for her. Her clothes never seemed to make it back home. She hadn’t realized how empty her closet had become.
“I’ve all but moved out there, it seems.”
It had been Forrester’s idea. Part of their new arrangement. Taking into consideration her penchant for independence, he offered her free rein of one of the guesthouses on the estate. She thanked him for his generosity, but if she was going to have free rein, she knew she would be most effective in the main house.
She convinced him that the only reason she wanted to be at the estate was because he was there, a statement that seemed to warm his icy, murderous heart. She would reside in the main house, separate bedrooms, he insisted, with an adjoining door. Mi casa es su casa, he announced proudly. She thanked him again but informed him that when he was away, she had no desire to stay in an empty house, adding flattering musings about the weight of his absence making the house cold and unwelcoming.
He ate it up, commenting on her strength while being drawn in and boosted by her apparent weakness for him. Her life was hers, he assured her, except—reminding her of their agreement—that his needs took precedence, to which she replied, “As they should.”
“I don’t spend much time here anymore. Marcus has been quite the homebody lately, so I’m glad he’s out of town this week. It gives me a chance to give this place a little attention.” She looked around with affection. “It’s not much, but it’s home, and I miss it.”
Jenny turned her attention back to the closet at the mention of Forrester’s name, and Kathryn sensed she didn’t like the casual use of his first name. She made a mental note to refrain from doing that in her presence and rose from the bed to help find her something to wear.
Unable to resist, she casually brushed her hand along Jenny’s lower back as she passed. “Let’s see what we have here.”
Jenny flinched at the touch.
“What is it?”
“Ticklish.”
From the wince and sharp intake of breath, Kathryn knew she was lying, and she dared her to do that again with a pointed glare.
“I got slammed into the truck door handle,” Jenny admitted.
“Let me see.”
“Kathryn—”
Another glare had Jenny lifting her shirt to expose her back.
The area was already starting to discolor. “Dammit, Jenny, where else are you hurt, and don’t you dare lie to me.”
“In order of appearance … chest, pride, back, skinned knee, elbow, scraped palm,” she held it up. “That’s all.”
Kathryn looked up from the upheld palm with wary eyes.
“I swear.”
“That back injury is nothing to play around with, Jenny. There could be internal dam—”
“Internal damage to the kidney,” Jenny interrupted. “I’m well aware of that. I will be ever vigilant for unusual abdominal bloating, lightheadedness, and God forbid, blood in the urine. Will that make you happy?” She paused. “And did I mention a bruised ego to go with that wounded pride?”
Kathryn knew Jenny was trying to lighten the mood, but concern and lingering anger over the man’s attack got the better of her. “Just because you’re a doctor’s daughter does not make you a doctor.”
Jenny pulled down her shirt and looked away.
Kathryn didn’t think her concern was unreasonable, but she realized she could have expressed her anxiety in a less confrontational manner. She smiled regretfully and pulled back the hand she was going to place on Jenny’s shoulder as an apology. “It doesn’t make you a nurse either,” she said with a softer voice and a teasing lilt. “But you talk a good game.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” Jenny said bleakly. “Maybe you should pick out a shirt for me.” She moved away from the closet.
“Jenny—”
“It’s okay,” Jenny said. “You’re right. It’s nothing to fool around with, but I’m fine. I promise. Just find me a shirt and I’ll be out of your hair.”
All levity was gone from Jenny’s voice and demeanor, and the disappointment in her eyes cut Kathryn to the core, because she’d put it there.
“If I pick out a shirt, will you promise to stop looking at me like I just kicked your dog?”
That drew a smile, and Kathryn almost felt forgiven. Almost, but not quite, as Jenny’s smile disappeared again, and she didn’t answer.
“I’ve upset you.”
“No.”
Kathryn ducked her head to find Jenny’s eyes. “Sure?”
“Mm-hm. Just a traumatic day.”
Jenny was lying again, but Kathryn let it go. She glanced at her boring closet and shut the door. “Not into crisp white, obviously. That’s all right, I’ve got just the thing.” She went to the dresser and pulled out a light knit crewneck pullover in deep sienna. “This should fit you perfectly.” She held it up to Jenny’s approaching form. When she reached for it with polite disinterest, Kathryn pulled the shirt away.
“You’re sore at me.”
Jenny crossed her arms. “I’m really not, Kathryn.”
“Did I mention I abhor it when people lie to me?”
“No, but I kind of got that impression a moment ago.”
Kathryn arched a challenging eyebrow. “So … are you sore at me?”
Jenny uncrossed her arms and exhaled as she leaned her elbow on the chest-high dresser beside her. She wanted to say yes and no. Perhaps she was overreacting to Kathryn’s protective nature, but she wanted so badly for her to … to what? Take her seriously? Take her to lunch? Take her out to the ballgame? Take her period? All the above, she supposed.
She turned her head as she composed exactly what she wanted to say and came face-to-face with a small silver-framed black-and-white photograph of a woman that looked very much like Kathryn, albeit a few years older. She had a young child on her shoulders, and their faces were mirror images of joy, as their matching dark hair swirled in the wind while the older woman held up the youngster’s hands in victory. Jenny smiled. That had to be Kathryn and her mother. “You don’t have to answer,” she became aware of Kathryn saying. “I know I’ve upset you, and I know I’m not the easiest person to get along with, but it’s only because I worry about you, and—”
“What are you talking about?” Jenny interrupted, her annoyance evaporating somewhere between Kathryn’s childhood photo and her apologetic face. The contrast of the exuberant innocence in the image to the pensive face before her, weary beyond its years, reminded Jenny again of Kathryn’s horrible capture by the Germans, and she reprimanded herself for giving her grief over something stupid and petty. She just saved her life, and petulance was her reward?
“When you’re not yelling at me, you’re very easy to get along with,” she said with a grin, hoping Kathryn could tell she was no longer upset. “And not too hard on the eyes either.” She offered another grin before turning serious. “I’m sorry, Kathryn. I’m being obnoxious, which isn’t an uncommon occurrence. I try too hard, and then I’m just shocked when things don’t go my way. I tend to find myself irresistible, you know.”
Kathryn laughed and shook her head. “You’re too much.”
“I hope you mean that in a good way.”
“The best way.”
Kathryn was smiling. Jenny took pride in her accomplishment and marveled at the years it took off Kathryn’s appearance. “You’ve got a beautiful smile.”
Kathryn pressed her lips together in an attempt to suppress the grin.
“Well, don’t stop!” Jenny said, as she tugged on Kathryn’s hand. She watched Kathryn’s eyes settle on the black and white snapshot. She resembled the woman in the photograph even more now, the lighter moment completely changing the angular planes on her face.
“Is that your mother?”
“Mm.”
“She’s beautiful.”
The smile instantly faded, replaced by a shadow that brought the previously shed years with it. “She died when I was 14. Killed by a drunk driver.” Kathryn pursed her lips and shook her head. “I don’t know why I said that last part. As if the manner of her death defined who she was in life.”
“What was she like?”
Kathryn lifted her eyes to her and then to the photograph. She closed her eyes.
“She was warm and gentle. Intelligent, beautiful …” She smiled. “Patient. The kindest soul I’ve ever known.”
Jenny let the words linger in the air until Kathryn opened her eyes and looked at her again. She was reminded of the comfort she found in Kathryn’s arms when she was upset about her father, but she didn’t feel they were back to that point yet, so she just took her hand instead.
“I’m so sorry.”
Kathryn nodded and looked away briefly. When she looked back, all traces of grief were gone. “We all have a story.”
“I’d like to hear yours one day.”
“And so you shall.” She handed her the knit pullover. “Try this on.”
“Thank you,” Jenny said softly. She intended it to be for the pullover, but still lost in Kathryn’s mesmerizing eyes, it encompassed so much more, and by Kathryn’s open gaze, she knew she felt it too.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Kathryn said. “I don’t ever mean to snap at you. I just —” She cut herself off and shrugged regretfully.
“I know you don’t,” Jenny said. “You’re just concerned, and that’s awfully sweet … it really is. It’s just that it makes me feel like you think I’m a kid.” She paused and shifted, suddenly feeling very childlike. “And I don’t want you to think of me as a kid.”
Kathryn’s posture physically softened, and she reached out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind Jenny’s ear. “I don’t think you’re a kid. Believe me.”
Jenny couldn’t hide her skepticism.
“Believe me,” Kathryn emphasized with a grin as her hand slid gently down Jenny’s arm.
Jenny felt the gesture to her very core and felt goose bumps rise on her arm where Kathryn touched her. Her eyesight faltered for a moment until she finally focused on the hollow at the base of Kathryn’s throat, where she was mesmerized by the fluttering heartbeat evident in the shadows of the soft skin. Kathryn had to know the effect she was having, and Jenny had no intentions of letting the moment pass unacknowledged or unchallenged. She shed her ruined blouse and let it fall to the floor as she took the offered pullover.
“But do you think I’m a woman?”
Kathryn swallowed as her eyes drifted down, taking in Jenny’s perfectly proportioned, toned, compact frame. “Of course,” she managed to say calmly in the face of a very enticing bra clad torso. She hoped her pounding heartbeat didn’t show through her lightweight shirt.
“Well …” Jenny reached up and traced Kathryn’s jawline with her index finger, stopping momentarily at the tip of her chin. “That’s a start.” She turned and flung the borrowed top over her bare shoulder as she left the room and walked down the hall to the bathroom with an exaggerated sway to her hips.
Kathryn watched Jenny’s gorgeous back leave the room, and she soon found herself staring into empty space. She exhaled the breath she was holding as her eyes drifted to the photo on the dresser. “She finds herself irresistible? Good heavens. She ain’t the only one.”
A knock at the front door drew Kathryn out of the bedroom. As she exited the room, she offered a glance down the hall at the sound of running water behind the closed bathroom door. She traversed the length of the living room and parted the wide horizontal wooden slats on the front window to see Smitty’s car on the street below. She hadn’t seen much of him since her new arrangement with Forrester took effect. He’d been put on his own assignments, which kept him busy and away from her, and she knew he was probably having withdrawals over not seeing her on a regular basis. She had to admit, she missed him too.
She absently adjusted her shirt, as if she had something to hide, and opened the door with a welcoming grin. “Hi, handsome.”
“Hi, dollface,” he said, as he removed his hat and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “How’s things?”
“Twice as good as they were yesterday but not as bad as they could be tomorrow,” she said, stepping aside to let him enter.
“Do you know where Jenny Ryan is?”
Kathryn closed the door and followed him into the room, putting herself between him and the bathroom down the hallway. “Gee, Smitty. It’s swell to see you too. Why do you ask?”
“She’s AWOL uptown. Folks are getting worried.”
“So you came to me?”
He grinned. “I came to you because I miss your funny face. Jenny Ryan’s whereabouts are merely a curiosity to me.”
“I already called in. She—”
Jenny’s quick, light step coming down the hall interrupted her speech, and Smitty’s eyes widened. Kathryn’s heart rate quickened. Please let her have that top on.
“Say, Kat—” Jenny began before she realized there was someone else in the room. “Oh. Hello.”
“Well,” Smitty drew out, his brow planted firmly in his hairline as he watched Jenny smooth the pullover over her skirt waistband.
“It’s not what you think,” Kathryn said, relieved that Jenny was dressed, at least.
“What do I think, Kat?” he asked with a smirk.
“Yeah. What does he think, Kat?” Jenny chimed in.
Kathryn chuckled and rubbed her forehead. “Jenny Ryan, meet John Smith.”
Jenny held out her hand. “How do you—” She stopped, recognition playing across her face. “Say, you’re that fellow from that night. The accident. You took us to the hospital.”
“That’d be me.”
“I never did get a chance to thank you.”
“No thanks necessary.”
Jenny noticed he was looking affectionately at Kathryn as he spoke, and she, in return, had an odd grin on her face.
“Smitty is our resident hero,” Kathryn said. “He’s my partner. He watches my back.”
“Was your partner,” he said, a touch of melancholy in his voice.
Jenny saw something between them, a history that went beyond a working relationship. She found herself envying it. Not in a jealous way, more like a longing, wanting to have that closeness to convey whole conversations and a range of emotions with just a look. She had that with Bernie, but she wanted that with Kathryn. John Smith was a lucky man.
Kathryn placed a sympathetic hand on Smitty’s chest, and Jenny marveled at the instant comfort it appeared to bring him.
“So,” Smitty said, “What is going on here?”
Jenny decided it would be best if she let Kathryn tell the tale, so she looked expectantly in her direction to find she’d already taken the lead.
“Jenny found herself in a bit of trouble. It got a little dicey. A blouse gave its life to the cause, and I’m just lending a hand.”
“You’re being modest. She saved my life.”
“Lucky you,” Smitty said, but he was looking at Kathryn when he said it.
“Yes. Lucky me,” Jenny said.
“I was just getting ready to drive her uptown.”
Smitty frowned. “It’s not Friday. You shouldn’t go to HQ.”
Jenny looked to Kathryn for clarification, but she paused a beat before answering.
“If they’re watching, then they already know she’s here. It won’t make any difference. I’m just driving her to her ad agency job, for all they know.”
“Are they watching?” Smitty asked.
“I didn’t see them today.”
“I’m sorry,” Jenny interrupted, “who’s watching whom and why?”
Kathryn looked to Smitty, as if she needed permission to explain. He merely shrugged, as if it were up to her.
“Sometimes Forrester has me followed.”
Jenny reflexively clenched her fists. “Why?”
Kathryn looked at Smitty again. “Because he can.”
It was a stupid question. Of course he would try to possess her. “Look, if it’s going to get you into trouble, I’ll call a cab.”
Smitty looked at his watch while Kathryn hesitated. “Haven’t you got a rehearsal pretty soon?”
Kathryn glanced at the clock on the bookcase. “Nuts,” she said under her breath.
“It’s okay,” Jenny said with a raised hand that didn’t quite reach Kathryn’s arm. “I’ll take a cab.”
“I’ll take you in,” Smitty said, asking permission with a quick glance to both. “Do you mind?”
Jenny smiled. “Handsome man, friend of yours ... not at all. I’ll get my things.”
“Thanks for doing this, Smitty,” Kathryn whispered as Jenny walked down the hall to the bedroom.
“Didn’t my mom give you that top?”
“It was too small.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Well, you wouldn’t. You gave her the size.”
“Like I said …”
Kathryn shook her head.
Jenny emerged with her purse. “Okay.”
“I owe you a ride uptown.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Kathryn found herself at an awkward goodbye again, made even more awkward by Smitty’s very interested gaze. Jenny seemed hesitant too, but she moved in for a quick hug, which Kathryn accepted, albeit self-consciously, much to Smitty’s amusement.
“Thanks for the rescue,” Jenny said with a wink as she backed away. “Shall we?” She touched Smitty’s arm as she passed on the way to the door.
Smitty gave Kathryn a get her eye roll, and Kathryn gave him her well-practiced don’t start look in return. He followed Jenny out the door and down the steps.
“So, John, how long have you known Kathryn?” Jenny began before they were even out of earshot. Smitty threw a mischievous grin over his shoulder, and Kathryn thumped her head on her doorjamb. “Ugh.”
Sending them off together was a bad idea. She could just imagine Jenny with her thousand questions and Smitty with his smart-ass replies. She was doomed.