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“Mm,” I agree, considering it. “She hasn’t mentioned anything like that.”
Seb lifts an eyebrow. “Have you told her about Clara?”
“Briefly. But I don’t like talking about her because I don’t like reliving it,” I reason. “And because I’ve completely moved on. She’s really just not on my mind anymore.”
“Well, there you have it,” Seb says. “Maybe there’s a Clara in her past too, a Clary, but she’s probably just not ready to open up about it. No big deal.”
I nod. Part of what I like so much about Jenn is how straightforward she is. If something’s on her mind, she’ll tell me, when the time is right.
Seb glances at his watch. “Time for me to bail,” he says, knocking back the last of his drink. “I have a wine rep meeting at the harbor.”
“Sipping Chardonnay on a yacht?” I tease.
“Yes indeed.” Seb grins and I have to laugh.
“Jammy bastard,” I say, echoing his favorite British phrase. “Sometimes I think you got the best deal out of any of us.”
“No thinking necessary,” he says with a wink. “I did.”
After he leaves, I head up to the office to get some more emails out. The place is empty for the weekend—I insisted that the team take a real break, however much there is to do before launch—and I enjoy the quiet. But I haven’t been working more than an hour when I find myself reaching for my phone. Jenn said she was spending the day catching up on errands, and I wonder if she has time to meet for lunch.
She only left my bed a few hours ago, but already I want to see her again.
I catch myself and have to smile. Yeah, Seb is right. I’m smitten.
“Hi,” she says quickly, “What’s up?”
I pause. “You OK?” I ask. “You sound… Tense.”
“Oh no! That’s terrible!” Jenn exclaims loudly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I reply slowly, confused. “What’s going on.”
“Oh, maybe you should go to the doctor, then,” she says, like we’re having a totally different conversation.
“What?” I ask, then I get it. She’s trying to get out of something, and I’m her excuse. “Yeah, I think it’s broken. Yep. All my bones. You should leave what you’re doing immediately. So you can help with the… boning.”
She clucks at me, sympathetic. “Of course I’ll come.”
“Yes, you will,” I say, smiling. “But what’s going on?”
“I’ll jump in a cab right away. Yup. Uh huh.” Her voice drops, like she’s talking to someone. “Sorry, mom. It’s a 911. I have to go.”
“Your mom is there?” I sit up, interested. “Stay put, I’ll come get you.”
“No, really—”
“I mean it,” I insist. “I want to meet her.”
And find out why Jenn is so desperate to escape the woman.
“You really don’t have to do that,” Jenn says grimly.
I grin. “Trust me.” I grab my wallet. “Text me the address. I’ll be right there.”
When I arriveat the restaurant, I find them sitting on the patio. Jenn’s staring down at her plate, spearing salad as if it’s wronged her, while a slim, fashionable woman sits opposite, I can see the resemblance in their dark hair and eyes, but that’s about where the similarities end. Jenn’s mom has a critical arch to her expression, waving her fork around for emphasis, while Jenn sinks lower in her seat.
She looks miserable.
