57

C H A P T E R 1 4
J E N N A
The sun shining through the window woke me up. The first thought I had was that the sun coming in didn’t make sense because I had definitely closed the curtain yesterday. That’s always the first thing I do when I check into a hotel room, for exactly this reason. I hate to be woken
up by the early morning sun.
Then I heard a soft grumble. I looked down and saw a hand resting on my arm. I followed the hand up its own arm and back to its owner.
Noah.
Last night came rushing back to me all at once. God, that was the best sex I’d ever had...but it had been a mistake. I should never have allowed myself to get carried away like that.
Yet, how could I resist? Even in sleep, Noah was the most attractive man I’d ever laid eyes on. I was tempted to shake him awake and ask for a repeat of last night.
No. I needed to get out of here quickly, before I did something else I’d regret.
I slipped out from under his arm and started looking around the room for my clothes. My monster of a bridesmaid dress
was practically standing up by itself on the floor. I didn’t see my underwear anywhere. Fuck it. I really didn’t have time to conduct an exhaustive search. I wanted to get out of there before Noah woke up. If he even looked at me, I’d lose my resolve and fuck him again.
And that made me hesitate. Was my gut telling me something my head should be listening to?
No, that was crazy. He was a client. I didn’t sleep with clients! If anyone ever heard I’d compromised myself like that, I’d never get a job again. And my claim against Josh would certainly lose some of its validity. Besides, I was focused on my career right now, on getting settled into Grandma Susie’s studio and building my business, not getting laid.
I’d brought a date to Jessica’s wedding. I’d held up my end of the agreement with my mother. Now she would have to give me the studio Grandma Susie had left me. The next stage in my career as a designer was about to begin.
I wasn’t going to lose sight of that over some guy. Even if he was the best lay of my life.
I grabbed a notepad from the desk beside the TV. Was this why hotels put these notepads here? Was it specifically geared toward women like me, sneaking out after one-night stands?
I bit down on the thought. That wasn’t the kind of person I was. This was an irregularity. A mistake. Nothing more.
Dear Noah
Thank you for being my date to my sister’s wedding. I know we made her happy, and what’s more, now my mother will release my inheritance to me. I’ll finally be able to have my own design
studio. I hope you know how much your help means to me. I’ll make sure to circle back with her about Tess’s school.
Thanks again, Jenna
I read over my note. It was trite and unconvincing, but it was the best I could do. I tore it from the pad, placed it on the table beside him, and let myself slowly out of the room.
“Jenna?”
Shit.
My mother was coming up the hall in a pink tracksuit, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “Everyone’s having breakfast in the hotel restaurant before Jessica and Travis leave on their honeymoon. You should come join in.”
“I really just want to get home, Mom,” I said. “I have a meeting later with a client.” This was a complete fabrication, but the idea of sitting with my sister and her new husband right now was horrifying. Besides, I was still in last night’s bridesmaid dress.
A fact my mother seemed to have just noticed. “Where’s your tracksuit?” she asked. “All the other bridesmaids are wearing theirs.”
Just the fact that my sister had insisted that all her bridesmaids purchase purple morning-after tracksuits pretty much summed her up. “I forgot to pack it.” More lies. It was in my hotel room, the one Noah still had the key for. At this point I was ready to abandon all my overnight belongings in order to get out of here with minimal drama.
“Didn’t you remember to pack a change of clothes?” Mom asked. “You didn’t sleep in that dress, did you? God, you look like you’ve been run over.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“And where’s that nice young man you brought to the wedding?”
“He went home last night.”
She put on a little pout. “We’d have liked to see him for breakfast.”
“Sorry. He has a daughter, remember? He needed to get home to her.” I was getting pretty good at lying to my mother.
“Well, I suppose it couldn’t be helped.” She patted my hair back into place and pursed her lips, clearly not happy with it. “You’re going home now?”
“Tell Jess congratulations again for me. I really need to take a shower and make myself look decent before my meeting.” Mom would like that.
Sure enough, she nodded. “We were happy you brought a date to the wedding.”
“It really was nice, Mom.” I knew she’d worked hard. I wouldn’t ask her about the studio right now. Let her enjoy her success. Let her bask in the fact that her oldest daughter had just tied the knot. I wouldn’t be the one to bring her down to earth.
And I definitely wasn’t going to tell her what her younger daughter had really been up to last night.
I went to the front desk to request another key for my room so I could grab my belongings. I ran in only long enough to grab my purse and my overnight bag. I didn’t want to take the time to change and risk running into Noah. I went back down to the lobby and checked out, ignoring the look the attendant was giving my messy hair and disheveled dress.
I managed to slip out the front door without being spotted and hailed by Jessica or any of her other bridesmaids and asked the bellhop to summon a cab for me. As soon as I’d climbed into the backseat and given the driver my address, the weight of everything that had happened crashed down on me. Noah and I should have glided through this wedding, but instead I’d given in to my urges and allowed myself to sleep with him. And then, of all things, I’d been caught on my walk of shame by my mother.
This called for girl talk.
“I thought you were never going to call!” Sara shrieked when she picked up the phone.
“What, no hello?”
“Yeah, yeah, hello. Cut to the chase. How was the wedding? Did your mom give you hell?”
“Oh, God, when does she not? She completely embarrassed me in front of my client.”
“I thought you’d call me when you got home last night,” she said. “You must have gotten in really late.”
“I stayed at the hotel last night.”
“So? They have phone service, don’t they? I was expecting you to ditch the party early and call me to debrief. I even bought my own bottle of champagne for it.”
“You still got that champagne?”
“I mean, you never called me, did you?” “Are you doing anything this morning?” “Free as a bird. What’s up?”
“Come over,” I said. “Bring the bottle.” She paused. “Are you okay?”
“That,” I hinted, “is a long story.”
BY THE TIME my cab pulled up and dropped me off, Sara was already there, sitting on the front stoop. She took one look at me and burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry,” she choked. “I know it’s not funny.”
I shrugged. “It kind of is, really. Might as well get some laughs out of this dress. God knows it isn’t good for anything else.” I unlocked the front door and led the way to the stairs.
“Why didn’t you bring clothes to change into?”
“That’s part of the story,” I said. We were quiet as we climbed, and once we were in my apartment, I said, “There’s some orange juice in the fridge. Why don’t you mix up some mimosas? I really need to jump in the shower. We’ll talk when I get out.”
Sara nodded. “Okay. But I’m making pancakes too. This seems like a story we’ll need some carbs for.”
I ached to take my time in the shower, to let the hot water wash away my nerves and self-recriminations. But talking to
Sara would make me feel better than anything else would. I washed off quickly, scrubbing my hair clean, pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, and rejoined her in the kitchen.
She was just switching off the stove, and as I took a seat at the table, she transferred a stack of silver dollar pancakes to a plate in front of me. She handed me a mimosa with a strawberry on the rim. “You’re amazing,” I sighed after a sip.
“Never mind that. Tell me what’s going on with you.”
I told the story, leaving nothing out. Her eyes widened as I spoke, and I thought she might choke on her pancakes, she gasped so many times.
“You slept with him?”
“I know,” I moaned. “I’m awful. It was so irresponsible.”
She waved dismissively at that. “It’s not that big a deal, Jenna. It’s just really unlike you. He must be something.”
“I don’t know. He’s just so…”
“Oh, believe me, I know. You’ve had the hots for him since you saw him in the mall. Hell, I’m proud of you! You actually went for it.”
“I should be focusing on my business.”
“Hey, you’re allowed to have more in life than just a career, you know,” Sara admonished. “Are you going out with him again?”
“I just did,” I point out. “We went to the wedding and look how that turned out.”
“No, that doesn’t count,” Sara said. “Everything’s so erotically charged at weddings.”
“What?”
“It’s true. Bridesmaids hook up, like, eighty-five percent of the time.”
“You can’t just make things up.”
“You need to go on a real date with him,” she mused thoughtfully. “Get out of that hyper-romantic atmosphere— and out of the business setting, too—and figure out what you really think of each other.”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “He’s got a daughter, Sara. I don’t want to take a chance when she could get hurt.”
“You don’t want to get hurt yourself, I think,” Sara said wisely.
“Yeah. That either.”
“You should give it serious thought,” she insisted. “You’re getting your studio now, right? You’ve been building your portfolio. Your career’s about to take off. Maybe it’s time you put some attention into other areas of your life. Maybe it’s time to think about finding love.”