for floral arrangements, wines, special sheets on the beds? They have chauffeur-driven SUVs, but I can get a stretch limo if you’d prefer.”
Jenny nudged her friend. “How are you not dating this guy already?”
“He’s too short,” said Emily.
“I’ll buy lifts,” Cole put in.
“Short is a state of mind.”
“It’s a state in
Emily sniffed her disapproval, and Jenny couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’m leaving now,” said Emily, and disappointment flickered in Cole’s blue eyes.
Emily missed it because her attention was focused on Jenny. “I’m going to grab you some of my clothes and a few personal things. Tomorrow, we’ll stock you up. But I’ll be back in an hour with the essentials.”
Since there was nothing left to salvage from her house, the insurance forms were straightforward, and the cleanup started right away. Jenny drove by it once, on Sunday morning, but she quickly decided it was time to focus on the future, not to dwell on the past.
The house was gone for good. But the lake was still beautiful, and the black scars on the land would heal. Emily was right. There was a lot to be said for rebuilding something brand-new, right here.
Jenny took Monday off work to dash through a long list of errands and settle into Cole’s guest room. She’d offered once more to get a room at the Family Inn. But Cole was adamant, and Emily backed him up. He had plenty of room, and it would take months for her new house to be built.
It was a shock for her to find out that Cole had a housekeeping staff. He had a cook, a gardener and a housekeeper. All were incredibly friendly and seemed determined to treat Jenny like royalty. When she’d mentioned that she usually took baking to the office on Tuesdays for the TCC’s youth outreach program, Maria, the cook, had insisted on pitching in to make cupcakes.
So, the mound of jumbo gourmet-frosted chocolate creations that Jenny carried outside to the athletic field late Tuesday afternoon attracted more than the usual hungry glances from the thirty or so teenage boys practicing football passes.
Mitch had started the youth outreach during his first month at TCC. He was a strong advocate for youth in sports, and his star power had ensured participation from the local teenage boys. The program had grown, and now several members of the TCC were working with the teenagers on everything from algebra to career planning. But Tuesday after school was still devoted to sports, and Jenny had taken up the habit of providing a baked treat for the kids at the end of the session.
Normally, she left the baking next to their water jug, gave everyone a wave and went back to work. But today, she found herself pausing. As angry as she wished she could be with Mitch, she couldn’t help noting how great he was with the kids. And she couldn’t help remembering the story about his father.
Were the two related in some way? Was he trying to do for other kids what his own father never did for him? She recalled the encounter on the beach in Galveston. Mitch had stuck up for the smaller kid. In a few short moments, he’d obviously boosted the boy’s self-esteem, and very likely given him a whole new perspective on life and on his future opportunities.
Jenny watched while Mitch gave a few pointers on passing the football to one of the boys. Again, it was one of the smaller boys, someone who might easily get picked on in a group. The boy nodded, gave another throw and was rewarded by Mitch’s clap on the shoulder and what were obviously words of praise.
How on earth could Mitch think of himself as a bad guy?
Then his gaze caught Jenny’s.
Since she’d skipped work yesterday, and since today he’d had back-to-back meetings out of the office, they’d barely spoken. On the upside, there’d been no time for awkward conversation. On the downside, she knew that conversation was looming in their future.
She’d written and discarded three letters of resignation yesterday. Part of her longed to walk away from the emotional minefield of working for Mitch, but the other part of her loved her job at TCC and told herself she was adult enough to stick this out.
Cole was right. One way or another, Mitch would be gone from Royal very soon, and he’d be completely out of her life. At the latest, he’d leave after the TCC presidential election in December. That wasn’t so far away. Jenny could keep her head down and her focus on business until then. Heaven knew the issues surrounding the new clubhouse and the presidency were coming at them faster and more furious by the day. Who’d have time to talk about anything personal before the election?
Now Mitch was moving toward her.
The TCC building and emotional safety were just fifty yards away. She could make it if she left right now. She doubted very much that he’d sprint after her. Then, while he finished up with the boys, she could shut down her computer, gather her purse, head for the parking lot and drive her rental car back to Cole’s house and hide in the back sunroom, where Mitch’s house wasn’t even visible.
He was closer now.
She had one minute to make a decision.
Leaving would be easy.
Staying would be fraught with-
“Hello, Jenny.” His long strides quickly covered the last few yards between them.
“Hello, Mitch,” she offered evenly.
His glance went to the big tray of chocolate cupcakes sitting on the table. “The boys’ll like those.”
“Maria made them.”
He nodded. “So you did decide to stay at Cole’s?”
“He didn’t tell you?” That surprised Jenny. Cole and Mitch were very close friends.
“I don’t believe he’s speaking to me at the moment.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that. Emily and Cole hadn’t overheard Mitch’s entire kiss-off speech, thank goodness, but they’d heard enough to be very angry with Mitch. Still, she couldn’t help hoping the incident wouldn’t drive a wedge between the two men.
“I’m, uh, sorry,” she tried.
“
“That Cole’s angry with you.”
“He’ll get over it.” Mitch paused. “And you?”
“Me?” Was he asking if she’d get over being angry with him for not wanting a relationship with her? It sounded quite petty when she thought about it that way. It was entirely Mitch’s business who he chose to date or not to date. If he wasn’t interested, he wasn’t interested. That surely wasn’t his fault.
Still, she couldn’t seem to find a coherent answer to his question, and the silence stretched between them.
He was the one to break it. “Are you going to quit, Jenny?”
She drew a breath. Mostly, she thought no. But in the dark of night, when Mitch’s words ran around and around inside her head, she sometimes felt like she had to make a clean break, if only to save her sanity.
“Let me be the one to quit,” he put in before she could answer.
“What? No.” She shook her head firmly in denial. “You can’t quit.” She gestured to the field. “The boys, the members, everyone depends on you. I’m completely expendable.”
He took a step closer. “You’ve got it backward. I’m a figurehead. You’re the one who’s indispensable.”
It wasn’t true, but the earnestness in his eyes suddenly brought home the humor of the conversation. “Is it just me,” she asked him, “or is our mutual admiration society a little nauseating?”
Mitch broke into a familiar grin, and a wave of relief coursed through Jenny’s stomach. He stage whispered, “I’ll keep it a secret if you do.”
“Definitely.”
His expression sobered again. “And I’ll stay if you will.”
Jenny gathered her courage. “Okay. I’ll stay.” She risked another joke. “But you have to promise to keep your hands to yourself.”
“You’re a pistol, Jenny.”
