Page 17 of Savannah Heat
Jenna locked the door behind Brock and got into her jeans and T-shirt. She looked at her watch. She must keep him busy for three more hours until time to get dressed to go to Tybee for the party.
She ate her late lunch, and Brock ate two protein bars and returned calls and emails. She managed to get a facial and hairdresser appointment and left him sitting on the bed in his underwear, talking on the phone again. By the time she returned, there was only one mission—get ready for the party. Since it took her longer to get dressed, Brock propped himself up on the bed to watch the news. She kept glancing at him and wondered who he kept texting.
As she stood in front of the long mirror, she looked not at herself but at Brock in the background. She thought again how insanely beautiful he was, more than just handsome. He was tall, broad-shouldered, blond, with blue eyes the color of the sea off the coast of Amalfi, Italy, deep but clear. She understood why he was so successful in the business world, especially with his women clients, of which there were many.
Jenna didn’t spend too much time thinking about why she was not madly in love with Brock until now. She enjoyed his company, his sense of humor, and his attention to her comfort—no denying that. Yeah, a bit of lust was part of it, but that moderated over time. Then it became clear what was bothering her. Something was not quite right about him; something didn’t ring true that she could put her finger on. Was he holding something back, hiding his true self in some way? He was almost too good to be true—that was it! In addition, they were missing that special something, that spark, with the two of them as a couple. She hadn’t put a name to it until now. Of course, the unique spark of the soul was missing, as her grandmother used to say. She kept hoping it would come, but so far nothing. She sighed and went back to her makeup. “I’m nearly ready, Brock. This is your time to get dressed alert.”
He laughed and turned off the television. “It takes me ten minutes, you know.”
“I know, and just shut up. It takes me ten times as long, but that’s my burden as a woman. Your burden as a man is to wait.”
He came into the dressing area and pulled her to him, kissing her lightly on the lips. “You are always worth the wait, Jenna.”
“Okay, no more of that. Time for lipstick and shoes. Put your clothes on, for heaven sakes.”
“It would be so much more fun to stay here without clothes.”
“Come on, think of all the good food and drink you will miss, and all the beautiful women who will be sure to fawn all over you tonight. And those glorious business contacts who you are sure to get.”
Brock pulled his shirt from the hanger. “Okay, but I’d prefer one redhead in this room to fawn over me, instead.”
“I promise you I’ll do that later if you’ll get dressed. The car will be out front any minute.”
“Okay, okay, I give up. Lucky for you I’m hungry.” Brock shrugged and pulled on his shirt. “Tomorrow night is the ball, right? So, what the heck is tonight? How many ways can this guy ask for money?”
“Yes, the senator did not advertise this one. It’s more for his cronies and high-level press. He wanted to see and be seen in a more intimate setting, with so-called friends. But more than that, he wanted to make those crucial connections with political friends, political operatives, and the press. He wants his name on the top of every important list in the state. He is trolling for power all the time. That’s why I have an invitation.”
“You’d think at least one of these things would be less formal,” Brock complained as he finished getting into his tux.
Jenna shrugged as she put on the finishing touches, including her own jewelry, and got into her mile-high heels. “Maybe he likes to dress up. Okay, here I am ready to go.”
Brock came into the dressing area. “Oh wow, you were worth the wait. Look at you!”
Jenna turned slowly to show off her emerald necklace and her matching dress, a backless style, cut low in the front. It fit as though tailor made, accenting her waist and her curves. When she stepped into the very high heels, she felt like one of the long-legged, beautiful people for a few minutes.
Jenna looked at herself in the mirror. “Some fight left in me yet.” She decided to let the dress speak for her tonight, and her jewelry was minimal. Well, minimal for her, with only her emerald necklace, earrings, and ring. This particular combination of jewelry, all with special significance for her, always made her feel confident. They were quality pieces and the ones she loved most.
She looked at Brock and smiled. “You look great as always, like a blond James Bond. I guess if we are through admiring ourselves and each other, we should get downstairs.”
They made good time to Tybee Island. Tonight was the select dinner event, and since the senator didn’t advertise this one, it was even more special when one got an invitation.
In Southern politics, the women were often as driven and dedicated as their men. They knew how to play the games and could be a deal breaker or maker for some of these men, especially those politically connected with dreams of higher places. The senator’s wife was his best asset. Tonight was all about cementing allies and hyping the big Black-and-White Masked Ball set for the following night.
The women would keep their masks a secret, but some would tell so they could recognize each other at the party. The dresses and the jewelry would remain a secret until the big party reveal. The women usually wore abbreviated masks so not to mess up their faces, but the men often donned more elaborate ones, at least for half an hour. Most of the men hated the masks. It was the South, and it was hot, and the masks were not comfortable. Women, being smarter about this, picked the half-masks they held in front of their faces. Annoying, yes, but it didn’t mess up their makeup and make them even more uncomfortable in the heat. Halfway through the evening, all the masks came off for good. After all, one must eat dinner. But wearing them for the cocktail hour was fun for most, or at least a bow to their ancestors, so the tradition continued on through the decades.
They entered the party a few minutes behind schedule, and Jenna could see things were well underway. She scanned the room for Dan but without success. She wondered, not for the first time, how he seemed to make himself invisible when he chose to do so.
Brock made his way to the bar.
She stood near the door leading out to the deck. Her gaze took in the manicured lawn and the trees beyond. She tried not to think about it too much, but she was curious to see what this Harper person friend of Dan’s was like.
When Jenna turned back to look at the room, her breath caught in her throat. Brock was not only coming toward her with their drinks, but he was also coming with Dan and a woman who she guessed might be, Harper. Was this, Harper, the buxom, loud, and very beautiful redhead she had seen that morning at the hotel? This was Dan’s Harper? She couldn’t get her head around it.
Harper wore a form-fitting, deep-pink gown with a low, scooped neckline. Her fire-red hair was worn up, making her look even taller. Jenna noticed the darker roots as she looked closer at her hair. But the diamond necklace and diamond earrings Harper wore were meant to be the attention draw. They were real and not from the neighborhood jewelry store.
After introductions were made, Dan suggested they go out to the balcony.
Jenna, unable to think of a reason not to, found herself trailing along behind the three of them. As they sat around a small table on the balcony, Jenna noticed Harper was looking at her with the same quizzical expression she must have had on her own face earlier.