After That Night. Ann Evans
Nothing she saw in the picture hinted at that. He was arrogant. Audacious. A snob, probably. Without a doubt he was the most unromantic man on the planet. But the photograph made him look isolated and lonely, too. Incapable of feeling? She just didn’t see it. And when she’d interviewed him, she’d hadn’t sensed it, either.
Growing up around men, Jenna felt she had a special insight into the male psyche. With the notable exception of her ex-husband, Jack, she was pretty good at figuring out what made them tick. Who they really were. What they really wanted out of life.
Mark Bishop could antagonize. Seduce. Confuse. But she’d seen flashes of humor and kindness in him. Most of all, he had a kind of genius for making a person believe they were the sole, fascinating center of his attention. Something in the eyes. A certain lift of the mouth that made you want to… She shook her head and had to smile at her foolishness.
He was just so different from the men in her tiny, civilized universe, that was all. Or maybe it was the liquor she’d consumed on an empty stomach. It might be time to break out the macadamia nuts.
She became aware of a presence at her shoulder. She looked up to find an attractive blond man gazing down at her. His eyebrows lifted in encouragement and his mouth sketched a smile, revealing that the drink in his hand wasn’t his first.
He indicated the empty chair across the table from her. “Is this seat taken?”
“Well, I…” Jenna stopped. She recognized that predatory look. This man had more than conversation in mind. It might be fun to practice her flirting skills, which were pretty rusty, but she didn’t want to have to eventually fend off a drunken advance. Especially since her own mind wasn’t all that sharp right now, either.
You’re a good girl.
Yes. And a boring one.
Do you even remember how to have fun?
No, but I’m willing to relearn.
But starting now? Starting with…him?
Lauren and her father had helped her to realize the depth of the rut she’d been living in for so long. The truth was, her level of boredom with her life was rising above her level of fear. But that realization couldn’t keep a cold, clammy mist of insecurity from settling over her.
The guy was waiting for her answer, his hand on the back of her chair as he leaned close. She returned his smile, trying to recall male/female banter that had been in mothballs for too many years. “Actually—”
Surprise jolted into her at the warm touch of a hand on her shoulder. At first she thought it was the blond man, but quickly saw that it wasn’t. Surprise turned to shock as Mark Bishop edged past her would-be companion and slid into the chair opposite her.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said to Jenna. “Did you order my usual?”
He sent the other man a friendly glance of regret. Without a word the man drifted away and back into the crush at the bar.
Jenna blinked at Mark as he settled in. She’d just been looking at his picture, and now he was here. She felt as though she’d conjured him up.
He arched a dark brow at her. “What’s the matter?”
“What are you doing here?”
His gaze slid away from hers momentarily, back to the blond man at the bar, who had already linked up with another woman. “From the looks of it, saving you from making a big mistake.”
His answer annoyed her. Jenna took a big swallow of her drink to get her wits back. The cute little umbrella got in the way and almost took out her eye. She tossed the wretched thing on the table as the alcohol swirled in her system. “I don’t need saving. I was looking for a little conversation, and now you’ve spoiled everything.”
“Really?” he said. He frowned absently out the window as though something on the street displeased him. “I seem to be very adept at spoiling things today.”
His tone sounded raw. There was such regret carved in his profile that she found her annoyance lessening somewhat.
“How did you find me?”
“I wasn’t actually looking for you. I took a walk to clear my head.” He nodded at her red suit. “That color’s hard to miss, and when I saw you in the window, I thought I’d come in. Where’s your partner? Why are you drinking alone?”
“Lauren’s out enjoying New York. And I didn’t think I was going to be drinking alone for very long.”
He gave her a strange look, and she knew she’d surprised him. Good. The last thing she wanted right now was for one more person to think they knew everything there was to know about dull Jenna McNab Rawlins.
Mark jerked his head in the direction of the bar. “Do you want me to call him back?”
“No.”
“Do you mind if I stay awhile?”
She should have told him to go. He confused her. Her reaction to him confused her. If she ever had a hope of stepping back into the real world and facing the prospect of dating again, Mark Bishop was the last man she should consider practicing her feminine charms on.
Instead, ignoring the sudden racing of her heart, Jenna found herself shrugging nonchalantly. “It’s a public place.”
He laughed lightly as he motioned at a passing waiter. “That’s a pretty tepid reception. Where’s all that warm hospitality Southerners are supposed to be so famous for?”
“We’re not in the South.”
His humor faded. “No,” he said with a rueful shake of his head. “We definitely are not. Today, I feel like I’ve landed on a completely different planet.”
Jenna would never have thought a voice could sound so tense and utterly devoid of hope. She observed him for a long, quiet moment while the waiter took his order. Maybe he really wasn’t the rat Lauren and Shelby Winston claimed him to be.
She watched him play with the napkin the waiter had left. He had beautiful hands. When the silence between them stretched too thin, she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about what happened between you and Miss Winston. Can you salvage your relationship, do you think?”
His manner was brusque, but not ungracious. “No. It’s over between us.”
“You don’t strike me as the kind of man to give up easily.”
He looked at her. His features were full of fatigue. “Some things just aren’t salvageable.”
“I’m sure…” She stopped, unable to think of anything inspiring to say. He was right. Some things couldn’t be fixed. But she felt the need to say something. She thought of all the lectures she’d endured from her family.
“If you’re made of the right material, a hard fall is bound to result in a high bounce,” she said at last.
His mouth lifted. “Sage advice from your last fortune cookie?”
Her senses swam for a moment, but she knew it wasn’t just the alcohol. She would need to watch out for that smile of his. It was lethal. She shook her head. “No. Unsolicited wisdom from my father after my divorce. And I wasn’t any more receptive to it than you are. Sorry. Force of habit, I guess. In my house, someone’s always getting positive reinforcement. I’m either giving it to my boys or getting it from my father and brothers.”
“Sounds like an interesting family.”
“Sometimes ‘interesting’ is just a polite word for ‘peculiar.’”
“Tell me about them,” he said, clearly ready to move the conversation elsewhere.
She settled her chin on her hand. The discomfort of talking about his breakup with Shelby had passed. God, he was beautiful to look at. Who looked this way outside of Hollywood film