Page 6 of Savannah Heat
Dan stepped closer and broke the spell. “Hi, I thought that was you,” he said, shifting his position to get out of the sun now peeking through the leaves of the tree.
She made herself look away and stared at the river, focusing on the sailboat that suddenly appeared. “Yes.” The one word was all she could manage, and she wanted to stand but was afraid her legs would give out.
“What are you doing here, Jenna?”
“Do you mean here on this bench or here in Savannah?”
“Yes, I mean, both. Are you back in Savannah?”
She straightened her back and met his gaze. “Not that it concerns you, but I came for the senator’s fund-raiser; the parties, the usual, and how about you? Something of interest going on?”
“Same, the senator’s events, but for a different reason than your own, I’m sure.” Dan sat on the opposite end of the bench. “I thought I saw you running ahead of me at one point, but I thought I was seeing things. You know, old times, old familiar places, memories, they can sometimes play tricks with your mind. I knew if you were really here, I’d find you on this bench.”
As she stood, Jenna avoided his gaze. “Yes, old memories, old habits. Well, I guess I’ll see you at the big events for whatever reason you will be attending.”
“Jenna, wait.” Dan caught her arm.
She pulled her arm from his grasp. “What do you want, Dan?”
“I’m…I’m sorry about things, you know, sorry I never got in touch—after. There was a good reason, honest.” He ran his hands through his hair and stepped back. “Can I explain things? I need to explain. I don’t want you to hate me.”
“Doesn’t matter anymore.” Jenna turned and ran, giving him no chance to say more.
Brock came out of the bathroom.
She pushed past him, stripping off her clothes as she went, and rushed into the shower. She needed the time to compose herself before dealing with Brock. Seeing Dan had shaken her in ways she never expected. She felt unsettled and unsure of everything.
Jenna spent as much time in the shower as she could stand. Knowing she must get on with her day, she willed herself to put a smile on her face and deal with Brock. Jenna found Brock pacing when she returned to the bedroom.
“I thought you had taken up residence in the shower. I’m starving. How fast can you get dressed?” Brock asked, pointing at his watch. “You will make me late for a meeting if we don’t hurry.”
Jenna frowned. “Don’t wait on me. Please, you go ahead and eat and get to your meeting.”
“I wanted to have breakfast with you. I’ll be gone all day.”
Jenna sighed. “Okay, give me a few minutes. I’ll hurry.” After what turned out to be a quiet breakfast with Brock, Jenna was annoyed with his childlike pouting about the call he received midway through their meal canceling his meeting. She suggested a walk and some shopping to lighten both their moods. They spent the morning walking the streets Jenna loved and managed to do a bit of shopping.
She noticed Brock kept looking at his new watch, the one he could use while deep sea diving, which was his latest passion, second only to golf. Some rich client owned one, she was sure. Brock loved to show off his expensive things, but not because he loved what he bought. It was so he could impress others. She realized the things she didn’t like about Brock were mounting up daily.
Following his pouting episode, they ordered a room service lunch and attended to their own business issues. After Jenna answered her work emails, she stood and stretched.
Brock was scrolling through something on his phone, as usual.
“Well, you have fun at whatever golf thing you are off to next. I’m going to the spa.”
“The thing, as you put it, is signing up for tee off times and teams. Both are very important. I’m not doing all this just for fun, you know.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” After the spa, and with no incentive to return to the hotel, Jenna distracted herself with a visit to her old favorite boutique. She bought herself a new dress she didn’t need for one of the parties she was scheduled to attend. Though the price was more than she wanted to pay, she convinced herself it was worth it.
The salesperson said the sea-green matched her eyes.
She wasn’t sure about that, or even if she’d call the color sea-green, but she liked the dress. She found the highest heels she could probably stand up in to go with it before calling it a day. It did give her pause to think Brock might be a little right about his assessment. She was buying things she didn’t need to dress up for people she hardly knew. Her magazine’s purpose was to make the ordinary person want all the beautiful things they couldn’t afford while admiring those who could. Not something she wanted to examine too closely at the moment.
Back at the hotel, she couldn’t help admiring her haul, but with some lingering guilt. For once, Brock approved of her choices. She told herself all this had nothing to do with Dan, but rather that Brock was right, her image was important. The things she did for her magazine were important, and her image was one of them. She pushed the former occupation and personal assessment from her mind. This was what she signed up for. This was her career, it was the work required to make her magazine a success, and not who she was on the inside. This uncertainty was all about Dan being back in her world. It was his fault, she told herself. She almost believed it.
The weather seemed to know party season was now on in Savannah. The humidity lifted just enough to make being outside bearable, and a sea breeze filtered over Tybee Island as they approached the senator’s private residence. The guests were met and ushered into a large living space, an almost ballroom-size room that spread out onto the deck. They were greeted by young, good-looking servers who made the rounds with trays of champagne served in elegant, crystal glasses with what looked to be a family crest etched on one side. Music, courtesy of the local symphony, filtered through the chatter, and the scene was set for the senator to legally pick the pockets of the well-off in attendance. Politicians, rich businessmen and women, socialites, and even an actor or two made up the bulk of the guests tonight.
Checks would be written in private after the event. True aristocratic Southerners never forgot that to flaunt one’s money in public was vulgar, and to talk about one’s money was even more so. This made for an understated, yet sophisticated, event. The flowing drinks, soft breeze, and lovely women, all showing off their jewels, were to put everyone in an expansive and mellow mood. But not Jenna. She could almost smell the electricity in the air. And then her thoughts traveled to Dan and his motives for attending, and a chill ran up her back. What could he possibly be doing in Savannah and at this event or any of the events?