Page 4 of Savannah Heat
Jenna missed it all—the quirky, caring people, always in your business but also the first to come to your aid, the first to share anything they had. Most of all, she missed her grandmother. Jenny had been too young to claim her house after she died, and found it hard to forgive her parents for selling it.
As an adult, Jenna, through her connection with her grandmother and her many summers there, participated in the party season, and loved seeing the town put on a party. She used to think of it as a time when everyone in the entire town put on their best dress. When she was in Savannah, she was in her happy place. Even the summer heat couldn’t dampen her spirits.
While Jenna knew Brock would be a good escort, his manners and gift of gab were fine, but she worried about his attitude as it related to Southerners. He didn’t know about the Savannah code. She tried to prepare him for it but wasn’t sure he paid attention. In the South, one did not make overt bids for money or power. Everything was more subtle and more nuanced. It was unlikely this was on Brock’s radar—at least not yet. She wondered how he would fare today, playing with the big boys. Since the South drew its own fine line between making business connections on the golf course or at any other social event and being pushy or crass, Brock might be at a disadvantage. He would soon learn.
After the spa time, and one slightly expensive trip to her favorite boutique, Jenna felt more like her old self. She chose to pamper herself as a way of keeping her mind diverted from other things, but she was good with that.
Back in the hotel after a light lunch, she tried working a bit on her first article in her series about the senator and Southern politics in general. Today’s article was mostly about her arrival in Savannah and how the town was preparing for the influx of people for the senator’s parties. She knew so much about this already she hardly needed to do any research. That would save her some time.
Brock returned tired, sweaty, but happy and rushed into the shower. He began telling Jenna about his day by yelling from the bathroom.
Jenna tuned him out as she answered a few work emails and checked their dinner reservations at one of her favorite places.
“What a great, great day.” Brock came back into the room wearing a towel. “I made some really good contacts, and two wanted to talk about property in the city. I mean New York City, not Savannah.”
Jenna watched Brock pull on his sweatpants. “Well, that is good. I’m glad you enjoyed a productive day. We have dinner reservations for seven. You’re not going to run now, are you?”
He grinned, raising his eyebrows. “No, just getting comfortable. I worked out enough for one day. Maybe I’ll save my energy for another workout tonight.”
“What are you, Brock, sixteen? Sex and golf are your only interests these days.”
“Not true. My business and making money are also high on my interests list. I haven’t heard you complain about our dinners out in the best places, or weekend trips, no expense spared. Why are you finding fault with my success? What’s going on?”
Jenna went back to checking her emails. “I wish I knew, Brock. Sorry to be in such a bad mood.”
“Are you trying to pick a fight, Jenna, or are you just set on ruining our relationship?”
Brock’s phone pinged before Jenna could answer.
“Ah, saved by the bell, such as it is.” Brock looked at Jenna and reached for his phone. “You need to figure it out, and let me know—and soon.”
Chapter Three
Jenna ignored Brock’s last comment as he walked away to take his phone call. She closed her laptop with a loud sigh. Brock was giving her an ultimatum, and that was a mistake. She tuned out his call, an obvious business-related one. To distract herself, she pulled her jewelry case from her luggage.
Brock finished his call, sat on the end of one of the queen beds, and grabbed the television remote. “Why do you bother bringing so much for just a few days? Just wear diamonds for everything. You have twice the clothes and shoes that I have. Look over there. You barely left me room to hang up anything. Women have too much stuff.”
Jenna laughed. “Give me a break here. Don’t get me started on all of your toys and clothes. What about those custom-made shirts and Italian leather shoes that are actually sent from Italy and the many trips to have your hair cut and styled?”
Brock muted the television. “That’s different. I have an image to protect.”
Jenna nodded. “Uh-huh. And moving on, the dinner tonight is casual. It’s at the seafood place I told you about. No suit and tie required.”
Brock continued to flip through the muted television channels. “Look at what I brought and just tell me what to wear, okay? If it’s not a suit and tie, tux, golf clothes, or sweats, I’m lost. Any in-between outfits are a mystery to me.”
Jenna ground her teeth. “I’m not your mother. I’m sure you can handle it.”
Brock landed on a channel and put the remote aside. “Okay, sorry. Yeah, I can work it out. Just pants and shirt and no tie, right?”
“See, how hard was that?” Jenna mumbled, not looking at Brock. Unable to help herself, she concentrated on her jewelry.
Brock inspected the clothes he picked for the evening and hung them on the rack. He wandered over to see what she was looking at in her jewelry case. “Clothes picked out. Nothing on television. Again, why bring so much jewelry for a few days? You’ve been looking at that case forever. A better question, why didn’t you put your jewelry in the hotel safe?”
She held up an emerald necklace and a diamond necklace. “These are fakes, copies of my favorite pieces. Remember, I tried to explain this concept.”
Brock shook his head and shrugged. “Why have stuff you can’t wear? I’ll never get it, no matter what you tell me about it. It makes no sense.”
Jenna huffed out a sigh but softened her tone. “As I tried to explain, people collect jewelry for many reasons, but those who have expensive pieces know they can be a target for thieves. No one wants to run the risk of losing a treasured or very expensive piece. So, that’s why copies are made.”