Ask Anyone

Maggie looked genuinely astonished by the question. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s just the way some men in business are,” Jenna said, thinking of her father.

“Not Bobby,” Maggie assured her. “It’s just what I’ve told you on the phone. He’s not talking to anybody about the boardwalk yet. Bobby likes to mull things over before he acts. He doesn’t rush into anything. Some of that’s Southern. Some of it’s just Bobby being Bobby. Don’t take it personally. He’s refused to talk to any of the men who’ve called, too.”

Jenna accepted the explanation at face value. “You’ve been a godsend,” she told the young woman as she straightened her skirt, shrugged into her jacket and tried to adjust it. They weren’t perfect, but they would do. “Thank you. I couldn’t have gotten myself put back together without you.”

For the first time, as she started to button up the jacket, she risked a look in the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed. Her hair, which had started the day in a nice, neat French twist, was hanging down around her shoulders in a tangle of untamed curls.

Of course, that image reflected back at her wasn’t nearly as disconcerting as the image of Bobby Spencer’s stunned expression right next to it.

A half-dressed Jenna Kennedy was standing in his private bathroom. Bobby reluctantly dragged his gaze from full breasts barely covered with scraps of lace to her startled face.

“Seen enough?” she snapped.

He blinked. “Sorry,” he said, then shut the door. “Maggie, get out here!”

His secretary emerged from the bathroom. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

“Long story, boss. Jenna will be out in a minute. She can explain. I’ve got work to do.”

He shook his head. “Oh, no, you don’t. Get back here. Since when are you anxious to get to work?”

“Since five seconds ago,” she said with an unrepentant grin. “Go easy on her. She’s had a rough morning.”

Bobby sighed. “I’m not in the habit of terrorizing people.”

“You know that and I know that,” Maggie agreed. “She doesn’t seem to be so sure. Why is that?”

Bobby had no intention of going down that particular road, not with a female who’d long since declared her intention to find him a woman. Between Maggie and his father, his personal life was doomed. He sure as heck didn’t want either of them getting the idea of dragging Jenna Pennington Kennedy into it.

“Never mind,” he said. “Go to work.”

“I made coffee,” she said, looking pleased with herself. “Just in case you didn’t have time, what with your early meeting and all. It’s instant, but it’s better than nothing.”

Bobby shuddered. “No, it’s not. From now on, leave the coffee brewing to me. Yours tastes like axle grease.”

He walked through the yacht center to the restaurant kitchen, prepared a decent pot of coffee, poured two cups, then took them back to his office and sat behind his desk. Jenna still hadn’t emerged from his bathroom. He alternately checked his watch and gazed warily at the door as if a restless tiger might be lurking behind it. Finally the knob turned and his pulse kicked up a notch. He deliberately attributed it to annoyance at her tardiness, because anything else was unacceptable.

“You’re late,” he said, just to emphasize his displeasure.

Those bright patches of color in her cheeks deepened. “No,” she said, just as emphatically. “I was right on time. Imagine my surprise when I was told that you never come in before eleven. If I’d known that, I could have found a better way to get here than running all the way.”

He stared. “You ran? Why?”

“My car ran out of gas. Because you made such a big deal about me being on time, I got out, took off my shoes, hiked up my skirt and ran, which is why you found me in your bathroom looking like a complete wreck, and that was after Maggie and I had repaired most of the damage.”

“I see.” A dozen questions came to mind, along with quite a few disconcerting images. He would have paid money to see her crosstown race to get here. In fact, he was surprised he hadn’t heard about it from someone by now. Then again, maybe that explained a couple of the fender benders he’d spotted along a normally quiet road.

She eyed him warily. “That’s all you have to say? I see? ”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You could have called and explained.”

She shook her head. “My cell phone was dead.” As if she realized she was making a less than stellar impression, she drew in a deep breath and said, “Maybe we should just forget all this and get straight to my ideas for your boardwalk development. This is just preliminary, of course, to make sure we’re on the same wavelength. It can be adjusted and it will have to be fleshed out with architectural renderings.”

Bobby sighed. This was what they were here for, though he was no more enthusiastic now than he’d been the day before. “Sure. Why not?” Listening didn’t mean he had to agree to anything.

But as Jenna talked about a park setting, about family-style attractions, about picnics and concerts and sidewalk cafés that would become gathering places for a community, he began to see a revitalized area along the riverfront that would be absolutely perfect for Trinity Harbor. Not overwhelming, not unmanageable, but ideally suited for the small town atmosphere he wanted to preserve, even while contributing to the area’s economic growth.

“I assume the centerpiece would be an antique carousel,” he said.

She blinked as if he’d pulled the idea out of thin air. “How did you know?”

He chuckled at her pretense of amazement. “I might not be the professional cop that my brother is, but that horse you sent was a definite clue.”

“Isn’t he the most amazing thing?” she said, her eyes lighting up. “You have no idea what I had to go through to find that particular carousel. It’s very rare.”

“I’m sure,” he said. “Thank heavens, though, you got it out of my front yard.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she looked as if he’d just revealed that the blasted thing had been kidnapped.

“It’s gone?” she whispered in a shocked tone.

“Since a couple of hours ago,” he said, watching worriedly as her skin turned pale. “You had it picked up, didn’t you?”

She shook her head. “What happened to the overnight guard? My arrangement was that he would stay right there with it until his replacement came this morning.”

“I have no idea. He was gone by the time I left the house.” He studied her stricken expression. “Are you telling me that someone stole that horse?”

Jenna nodded.

Bobby couldn’t believe it. Who would steal a carousel horse? He turned on her suspiciously. “Is this some sort of scam? Or a publicity stunt? I am not paying for that horse. It was your bright idea that it was down here in the first place. I was never responsible for keeping it secure.”

“I know.” She buried her face in her hands. “Oh, God,” she murmured. “My father is right. I am the world’s worst screwup. That horse is worth a fortune. And the rest of the carousel won’t be worth all that much without it. What was I thinking? I should have known something awful would happen. It always does. How am I ever supposed to convince my father that I can handle anything important when I keep messing up the simplest things?”

Her plaintive tone struck a responsive note somewhere deep inside Bobby. He knew a whole lot about judgmental fathers. “Insurance?” he suggested hopefully.

She shook her head. “The guard was cheaper. I used every last penny of my savings to buy that carousel and hire the security company to watch over the horse for a couple of days. Even if they’re liable, it will take forever to get paid.”

Bobby reached for the phone. “I’ll get Tucker over here,” he said grimly. He wanted that antique carousel horse found and found fast, because the protective feelings that Jenna Kennedy stirred in him had trouble written all over them.

While they waited for Tucker, Bobby brought Jenna a glass of brandy. It was early in the day, but she looked as if she might go into shock at any second. He did not want her fainting on him. If she did, he’d have to touch her, and he knew exactly how dangerous that could be.

“Drink it,” he ordered.

She eyed the glass warily. “What is it?”

“Brandy.”