After That Night

“Absolutely not,” Jenna said firmly. “No.”

Victoria lifted her head, all haughty tyranny. “Technically, I’m your boss. I order you to do it for the sake of the magazine.”

Lauren and Jenna burst out laughing, and even Victoria cracked a smile.

“I might let you order my dessert,” Jenna said, “but I’m an equal partner of FTW, and you can’t send me off to—” she flipped back to Mark Bishop’s bio to see where he lived “—to Orlando just because you don’t want to do it.”

“You don’t have to go to Orlando,” Victoria said.

“Good.”

“He and Shelby will be in New York.”

“What?”

“They’ve agreed to squeeze in a joint interview while they’re in New York this week. He’s there on business, and she’s picking out her trousseau. It’ll be easy. They’ll be in a lovey-dovey mood. Flush with the glamour and glitz of New York, the city of love…”

“I thought Paris was the city of love,” Lauren cut in.

Victoria shot her a sour look. “Thanks for your support.”

Jenna crossed her arms, annoyance tinged with the tiniest bit of fear beginning to take hold of her. Searching for the right argument, she looked down, straight into the steely, hooded eyes of Mark Bishop. The guy was in the newspaper business, for heaven’s sake. He’d certainly recognize that she was completely out of her element. He’d chew her up and spit out the pieces.

She cleared her throat. Loudly. “I can’t just drop everything and go to New York. I have two children who—”

“Don’t play the little-homemaker card with me,” Victoria said in exasperation. “You have a father and two older brothers who dote on those boys, and they’d be quite willing to baby-sit if you asked them. God knows, you do everything for them.”

“Send Lauren.”

Lauren gave her a small smile of commiseration. “I’m already going. To take the pictures.”

“She can’t do the article,” Victoria said. “She might be a genius with her camera, but you know her thought processes can be hopelessly disorganized. Doesn’t allow for good writing.”

Making a face at Victoria, Lauren replied, “Keep it up, and you’ll be looking for a photographer, as well as a journalist.”

Vic reached across the table and squeezed Lauren’s arm. “You know I love you, darling. Desperation always makes me cruel.”

“What about one of the freelancers?” Jenna suggested.

“Aren’t you always telling me we need to watch costs where we can? Why should we pay a freelancer when there’s a perfectly good writer in-house?” Victoria developed an interest in scraping crumbs from her plate. “Besides, there’s no time. You and Lauren have to show up at his penthouse suite tomorrow afternoon.”

“Tomorrow!”

Seeing Jenna’s consternation, Lauren decided to speak up. “Come on, Jen. We can do it. Then we can go shopping. Or take in a show. We can have a ‘wild woman weekend’ just like in the old days.”

“The last time I acted like a wild woman, I ended up married to the most inappropriate man in the world.”

“Well, you certainly don’t have to worry about that this time,” Victoria said. “Shelby Elaine isn’t going to turn number six loose without a fight.”

Jenna tried again. “I can’t go anywhere tomorrow. I have an appointment.”

“With whom?” Vic asked suspiciously.

“With a real-estate agent. I wasn’t kidding before. I’ve got to find a place of my own. The boys need it. I need it. Independence Day is long past due.”

How irksome it was to see the open skepticism on both her friends’ faces! Vic, of course, was the first to weigh in with her opinion. “I don’t know why you think you can fool us with all this nonsense about buying a house. You’re not going to move out of your father’s place—at least not until you get married again. You claim to be eager to get back out on your own, but there’s still a part of you that wants to stay there.”

“Why would I want to stay there? It’s too small for all of us. Dad can drive a person nuts. It’s too far from—”

“Because it’s safe.” Vic cut across the conversation.

Jenna stared down at her abandoned dessert. She wanted to refute Vic’s words, but she had no grounds.

She longed for independence, longed to make a home for herself and the boys, but at the same time she was scared to death. Afraid to fail. Afraid to find out she couldn’t manage on her own. It was horrible to be this age, have come this far, and still suspect that deep within, the same old insecure Jenna was sabotaging every move.

She could feel Vic and Lauren’s eyes on her and felt a surge of rebellion. “Why can’t you go, Vic?” she asked, determined to keep the conversation on the problem at hand. “And I want the truth.”

Victoria looked down for a moment, running her fingers through her blond hair in a familiar gesture that told her friends the teasing time was over. When she lifted her eyes, Jenna saw the uneasiness there, tinged with an un-characteristic fear.

“I’m flying out to California tomorrow morning,” Victoria said, the lightness gone from her voice. “I’m not going to let Cara flit off to Europe to ride around on the back of a motorcycle without trying to make her see reason. That guy is no good for her, and maybe face-to-face I can convince her of that.”

During Victoria’s last year in college, her parents had been killed in a car accident. Cara, six years her junior, had been seriously injured. Vic had dropped out of school and come home to take care of her sister. She’d nursed her back to health, settled their parents’ estate and over-seen the sale of the family business. The sisters loved each other dearly. But that didn’t mean Cara would let Vic tell her how to run her love life.

Jenna knew firsthand how such interference could sometimes produce a result just the opposite of the one desired. She leaned closer to her friend. “Vic…are you sure this is the best way to handle the problem? Don’t you remember when everyone in my family tried to persuade me not to marry Jack? We couldn’t get to the justice of the peace fast enough.”

“It won’t be like that,” Victoria replied. She pressed her lips together tightly, as though her anxiety had leaked out before she could catch it. “My mind’s made up, the tickets are bought, so don’t try to talk me out of it.”

They all subsided into thoughtful silence. The rest of their desserts remained uneaten. Jenna stared down at the picture of Mark Bishop, seeing nothing but the potential for disaster. She would do anything to help the magazine and her friend. But this? How could she hope to succeed?

Eventually the silence became charged and uncomfortable. Jenna picked up the picture again, releasing a huge sigh. “Lord, he looks so intimidating.”

“Debra Lee says he’s a prince to work for. And he’s fallen in love since that picture was taken,” Victoria said. “He’ll be a pussycat.”

Jenna opened her mouth to refute that, but Lauren touched Victoria’s sleeve and said, “Give her some time to think about it, Vic. You know Jenna. She likes to weigh everything very carefully. I’m not surprised she’s hesitant, the way you’ve sprung this on her.”

Victoria looked back at Jenna. “All right. I’ll give you until tonight to make up your mind.”

“And then what happens?” Jenna asked.

“And then I start begging.”

Lauren laughed, but Jenna frowned. She wouldn’t go. She just couldn’t. No more thought on the matter would make a difference.

And she wasn’t going to let this foolishness keep her from enjoying a dessert the company was paying good money for. She picked up her fork again and deliberately placed a sizable bite of Chocolate Sin into her mouth.

The icing was thick, cloying. She tried to savor its richness, but all she could see were Mark Bishop’s dark eyes staring up at her from his picture beside her plate.

“Don’t look like that,” Vic commanded. “You’re not being sent to the executioner’s block.”