Trusting Jake (Blueprint To Love Book 1) (9 page)

Dammit, when would he learn? Jake never could drink well, even in college. Another decade hadn't improved his tolerance. His roommates had continually been amazed by how little alcohol he could handle, despite his large frame. Things like that could be deceptive.

In college he'd appeared to be on top of the world. Good grades, plenty of girls . . . pretty good athlete. But, on the inside he'd felt empty. The news of his parents' separation had knocked him on his ass. Divorce was something that happened in other families– not his. He'd always assumed his family to be invincible. But that had changed overnight.

Jenna's words had returned to haunt him during the long, sleepless night. As he tossed fitfully, he'd been forced to admit the truth. He still blamed Mona for the divorce, despite the decision being mutual. When his parents separated, he'd been an adult– ready to take his place in the world. Why should it matter whether his aging parents were together? Why was he still punishing Mona for
their
decision.

Why couldn't he be more like Jeff? His brother had been born with the ability to accept any cards he was dealt. Easygoing. Unflappable. Jefferson
always
made the best of it. No matter what happened, he somehow managed to see the positive. Even as kids, Jeff was so damn agreeable, happily willing to settle on whatever Jake decided for him. He wondered if his brother would ever feel strongly about anything– if Jeff had ever experienced a violent emotion or clawing need. He doubted it. Wincing, he rolled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. Today, Jake wished he could be so lucky.

Considering the effort it had taken, he arrived at the office by eight and discovered Jen already at her desk. It would be better to clear the air quickly. Just like a bandage– rip it off– experience the sting and move on. He'd already wasted too much time feeling sorry for himself. Once he was safely in his office, he resolutely picked up the phone and buzzed her desk. "Jen, when you get a minute, could you please come in?"

***

Here it comes
. He was going to fire her. Jenna wondered how she would cover a nearly four month gap on her resume. Four months– just long enough to be aggravating. The trouble with getting fired was that failure was difficult to hide. It stood out like a flashing, neon sign.
Look at me
. Look at this glaring mistake. The inevitable damage control usually resulted in deception. And she was already juggling enough falsehoods to last a lifetime.

She'd never been comfortable using the word 'liar' to describe herself. Keeping Rick alive in name only had been a tool. A protective device . . . like a moat. A necessary evil. A way to avoid potential problems. She sighed in defeat. Oh, hell. Technically, it was a lie . . . but the deception wasn't meant to hurt anyone.

In the past, being honest had blown up in her face. When the men at Whitney Group had learned about Rick dumping her, they'd made her life hell. Propositions, innuendo, outright harassment.

With her fresh start, Jen had vowed to protect her privacy. As a result, her new life had been constructed in isolation, on a foundation of half-truths. The irony wasn't lost on her. She'd discovered it was easier to maintain an honest business relationship if she lied about the personal side.

Pushing back her chair, she rose to her feet and dragged in a calming breath.
Suck it up and apologize
. She hadn't worked for Jake long enough to risk taking a stand. She couldn't allow his antagonism toward Mona affect their relationship. It wasn't her business. On the hopeful pretense of steering the conversation toward work, she snatched up a legal pad from the corner of her desk and trudged into his office.

"Have a seat."

Jake looked worn-out. As though he'd grown tired of dealing with someone like her. Her toes curled up inside her pumps. Please don't fire me, she prayed.
I love this job
.

"I'll start by saying I'm sorry. I still feel my issues with Mona are personal, and therefore, none of your business. But, who you lunch with isn't my decision, either." 

Swiveling in his chair he gazed out the side window. "I can't stop her from discussing family issues. And if you're the person she confides in, that's her call. I was wrong to imply you would gossip about it." 

Pausing, he glanced in her direction and she acknowledged the guilt shimmering in his eyes. Her toes relaxing a notch, she released the breath she'd been holding.

"You've never given me any reason to question your loyalty or to believe you would betray my confidence. I was completely out of line to suggest that yesterday."   

"I can only accept your apology if you'll forgive me too." The words rushed out before Jen had the chance to assemble them. Clutching the armrests of the chair, she stumbled through her apology. "I never should have said what I did. How you handle issues with your mother. . . I– It's not my business. I'm so sorry."

"I had it coming."

"But-"

When Jake turned to face her, she read the relief in his eyes. "We've got a lot of work to catch up on. Let's just move on, okay?"

She glanced away for a moment, relief flooding her. "Right. Let's get started." 

***

Jen had to admit . . . they were a great team. Either that, or they were both adept at ignoring underlying problems as long as it yielded results. She surveyed the pile of files on her desk a few hours later. Together, they'd accomplished a mountain of work. Of course, the follow up would take several days. Her labor had only begun. Chewing thoughtfully on her lip, she wondered where to begin.

Skipping lunch would help, she acknowledged, mentally planning the remainder of her day. The kids had to be picked up at school no later than six. The smart thing would be to take some of the pile home and put in some overtime after dinner.

Separating the stacks, Jen stuffed several into her briefcase before beginning the arduous task of catching up. Staying as long as she dared without being late for the kids, she wearily rubbed her neck when she finally turned off her computer. As she buttoned up her coat, her stomach growled ferociously. "Don't worry. We'll feed you soon." Patting it reassuringly, her mouth watered at the thought of leftover pot roast.

"Was that your stomach I just heard?"

Her yelp of surprise had Jake backing up a step when she whirled around. Her cheeks flushed with heat as she wondered how long he'd been standing there. "I. . . worked through lunch, so I'm already dreaming of leftovers."

"Don't let me keep you. It's always nice to have family in town."

Hoisting the briefcase strap over her shoulder, she staggered under the weight. "Family?" Scrunching her nose in confusion, she realized he meant Dan. It seemed like an eternity since he'd left. "No, he's already gone," she corrected. "He left this morning."

"That's too bad. The kids seemed pretty happy to see him."

Jenna took a step into the corridor. "They love him to death. And it's rare they get a chance to spend any time with him since he travels so much." 

"Can I carry that for you? It looks awfully heavy." Jake lifted the strap before she could argue. He grimaced when he hoisted it to his own shoulder. "What the hell is in here?"

"I wanted to get a jump on the Baltimore deal, so I'm taking the files home. I'm going to put in a couple hours after dinner." She snapped off the light as she spoke.

"Is that Willoughby's stuff?" Waiting for confirmation, Jen nodded as they headed to the reception area. "You should probably wait on this. I just got off the phone with him and he's made several changes I haven't had time to discuss with you."

"But according to their timetable, we're already behind schedule." Damn, she'd really wanted to get a head start tonight. The rest of the week would be crazy.

"I know. That's one of the things they're refusing to budge on."

When Jen turned suddenly, she nearly plowed into him. "Why don't you swing by for dinner and then we could spend an hour reviewing the changes?"

No. Wait
. Her brain reverberated with a mental shriek. What the hell was she thinking? If words could be retracted, Jenna would be lunging for them. Inviting her seriously hot boss for leftover pot roast? Bad move.
Way bad, Jen
.

Jake's muddled expression indicated he was having trouble following her babbling logic. So, she went ahead and compounded it by rambling some more. "I-I mean. . . you wouldn't have to stay all night. I can work on the changes myself once– we've uh. . . discussed them."

His obvious hesitation made her sigh with relief. Thank God. He had enough sense to save them both from an awkward evening eating last night's dinner. "Never mind– if tonight's not good-"

"Tonight is fine. What time should I come?"

Perspiration slithered down her spine. Good Lord, what had she done? "H-how about an hour? I've got to pick up the kids and get home. Dinner will just have to be reheated." Jenna tried not to squirm under his gaze as they crossed the deserted parking lot. Escorting her to her car, he waited patiently when she fumbled and then dropped her keys before finally unlocking the damn door. Casually, he opened the rear door and dropped her briefcase on the seat.

"Thanks for inviting me. Can I bring anything?"

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," she stammered as she fastened her seatbelt. "It's only leftover pot roast. Maybe we should wait until I'm better organized."

His mouth quirked in a smile. "Jen, if you want to change your mind, that's fine. But, I happen to love pot roast, especially when it's homemade. I'm sure it will be great."

Turning the key, she was grateful to end what would be only the first awkward conversation of the evening. "If you're sure you don't mind– then I guess we'll see you around seven."

***

Like a tornado touching down, Jenna swept into the house, flung her coat on the chair and dropped her briefcase in the foyer. She had to get ready. Somehow, this meal made her more self-conscious than their first dinner together– and that time Jake had been a complete stranger. And she'd served pizza.

But it was too late to back out, she thought grimly as she got to work in the kitchen.

"Megan, come set the table," she called. "Al, pick up the living room. You don't want Jake falling all over your toys, do you?" 

Megan seemed to take the table-setting task very seriously. Her daughter was busy setting out silverware on napkins she'd folded in a dramatic, lop-sided fashion.

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Are you. . . like. . . dating Jake?"

Frantically shoving the pot roast back into the oven, Jen froze. "Huh? Meggie, what makes you think that?"

Her daughter returned to the kitchen for the stack of plates. "Well. . . he
is
really cute. And this is your second date."

"Honey, this isn't even a first date. He's coming over to work." With the roast finally heating, Jen turned to address her misguided daughter. "Baby, there are times when I should stay later at work. But, I can't do that because I pick you guys up at school," she hastened to explain. "So– when that happens, I bring my work home and do it here. Tonight I need Jake's help with the work. Once he does that, he'll go home." 

Running her hands down Megan's long, slender arms, Jenna realized her little girl was growing up. Her daughter had inherited her fair coloring, but, it had become obvious she would be blessed with her father's height. "So– are we clear on this subject? No dates."

"I guess so." Meg's eyes registered a flash of disappointment before she glanced up again. "Well, would you wanna date him? I mean, like if Jake wasn't your boss and everything?"

Uh-oh. This was exactly the kind of conversation Jenna was both looking forward to and dreading at the same time. How could she begin to explain her lack of interest in dating? How would she tell her daughter she didn't care if she
ever
met another man? After the humiliating years with Rick, she was far better off alone than with the wrong man. "I– I don't know, honey."

"C'mon, Mom. Do you think he's cute?"

"Well. . . I– um. . ." Glancing at the clock, her pulse ratcheted up a notch. Only twenty minutes until the subject of their conversation arrived. She needed to dispose of this discussion well before Jake's arrival. Hell– what would she do if Megan said something at dinner?

"Mom!"

"Sure, he's cute," she blurted. The kitchen suddenly felt too hot. "But that doesn't mean I'd date him," she insisted. "I mean– our mailman is cute too, but I haven't asked him out."

"So. . . you haven't kissed him or anything?"

Her lips twitched in a reluctant smile and she stopped peeling potatoes long enough to give her daughter a swift hug. Poor Megan. She'd completely disappointed her. "Meggie. . . Jake is my boss. You just can't go around kissing your boss-"

"Why not?"

"Because it's against the rules," she explained. "If I kissed Jake, I wouldn't be able to work there. And I like my job a whole lot more-" Her brain suddenly filled with the image of Jake's sensual mouth on hers. His lips trailing down her throat as he unbuttoned her blouse. His hands– those amazing, strong, capable hands stroking-