Ask Anyone. Sherryl Woods
Maggie asked, then paled. “Or do you mean is there something going on romantically between us? Good grief, no.” She paused to consider the idea. “He’s kind of sexy, I suppose. That earring makes him look like a pirate. But he’s way older than me.”
“He can’t be more than thirty,” Jenna pointed out.
“Twenty-eight, actually, but I’m only nineteen, and I’m not going to get seriously involved with anyone for years and years—and then it won’t be with Bobby Spencer.”
More curious than she ought to be, Jenna asked, “Why not, especially if he’s such a paragon?”
“Because we’re friends,” Maggie said simply. “He treats me like a kid sister. Heck, he used to baby-sit my brother and me.”
“And you’ve never had a crush on him? Not even a little one?”
“No way,” Maggie claimed emphatically. “He’s really nice, if you know what I mean. I want a man with more of an edge. A guy who’s a little dangerous.” Her expression turned dreamy.
“Trust me, dangerous is highly overrated,” Jenna told her. “Nice is a better alternative.”
Maggie’s gaze narrowed and her expression turned thoughtful. “So, what do you think of Bobby? I heard about the commotion at his house yesterday. I would have given anything to be there to see his face.”
“Actually, he looked a little ticked,” Jenna confided as Maggie stitched and stapled her skirt back together, while Jenna herself worked on the buttons on her jacket. The designer suit looked as if it had been pieced together by drunken elves.
Maggie’s expression brightened at Jenna’s description of Bobby’s reaction. “To tell you the truth, that’s a good thing,” she declared. “We’ve all been saying for a long time now that somebody needs to come along and shake up that man’s life. He’s in a rut, emotionally speaking, that is. Not that he listens to me. He just rolls his eyes and walks away as if a kid my age couldn’t possibly have anything intelligent to say about love.”
Jenna didn’t give two figs what kind of rut the man was in. She wanted to sell him on this proposal and get out of town with a signed contract in hand. She had to get back to Baltimore before Darcy defied her and dyed her hair purple. Even if Darcy used something temporary, like a powdered-grape-drink mix, it would be enough to send her grandfather’s blood pressure soaring.
“Maggie, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why has your boss been refusing to take my calls? Is it because I’m a woman?”
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