Just Beginning (23 page)

Though he spoke matter-of-factly with a hint of resentment, Jenny knew the situation hurt. Steve was a smart guy and hardworking; he deserved to be taken seriously.

He glanced sideways at her, then went back to inspecting the wood splinter he’d ripped off the dock. “Know what I’m doing now?”

She shook her head.

“Cite checking an article one of the partners wrote about civil procedure. I don’t think there could
possibly
be more boring work.” He paused, immersed in the disappointment. “But that’s okay. I can be patient. Soon, the right case will come along, and I’ll have my chance.”

“I’m sure you will. Meanwhile...” She hesitated, trying to broach the subject without destroying his trust. “If you wanted, I could write a favorable article about you. I could cover your baseball career, your sudden forced retirement, and your successful career change. We could publicize your graduating from Michigan, with honors, and your coup of obtaining a job with a top law firm.”

Steve’s head whipped up to stare at her. “How’d you know I graduated with honors?”

“Whoa there.” Jenny leaned back, away from the suspicion flashing in his eyes. “Because I know you and your determination. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d been the valedictorian—if they even have such a thing in law school.”

Relaxing, he cracked a smile that showed a deep dimple in his left cheek. “Number two.”

“See? An article like that would vindicate you, and I’d give you total editorial control.”

Steve’s smile evaporated. “I don’t think so. Not yet, at least. Maybe once I have a few wins under my belt.”

She shrugged, trying not to show her disappointment. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“I appreciate the offer.”

“Even though I’m the enemy?” Jenny joked.

He chuckled. “Even so.”

Ritz nudged in between them, poking and licking Jenny’s arm. “What? Is it time for dinner?”

“While you feed her, I’m going to get changed.” Steve stood, brushed off his pants, and offered Jenny a hand up.

She took the proffered help and then released his hand. Brushing her loose hair away from her face. “Thanks for listening. Can I ask you something?” She smiled. “Off the record.”

“Sure.”

“So you’ve been with Annie awhile now. What’s the deal?”

“No deal. Her divorce has only been final for a few months and having young kids complicates thing. We’re taking it slow.” Steve retrieved his suit coat and with a hooked index finger, he tossed it over one shoulder.

Molasses slow. She and Gabe married six months after they’d met.
When it’s right, you know it
. “If things with Annie don’t work out, I might know somebody at work—”

“No, thanks.” Dropping a heavy hand on her shoulder, he turned her and started walking toward the house, gently pushing her up the hill as an older brother might help her along after counseling his kid sister. “My sisters are always trying to set me up. I don’t have time for that now. I’m too busy cite-checking life-altering articles.”

At least he still had a sense of humor and could laugh at himself. “Okay. But that soul mate you’re waiting for doesn’t always come at a convenient time, you know.”

Steve paused by the hedge and stared at her as if considering, then shook his head and turned away. “See ya in ten.”

* * *

Finding a soul mate doesn’t always come at a convenient time
. As if he needed that warning. Steve got a beer and headed upstairs. Timing wasn’t exactly his specialty. In fact, he expected his love would find him at the most inopportune, inconvenient moment possible—that was if he was lucky enough to ever find what Gabe and Jenny had.

He and Annie probably didn’t have it. Wasn’t true love something that hit ya, and you knew it on a gut level?

Annie wasn’t the love of his life, and he suspected she felt the same. But they were compatible, and he really enjoyed her kids. Sophia and Josh had wormed a place deep in his heart, which was probably why he let the relationship with their mother coast on. He and Annie understood each other and were good in bed, but they didn’t have that magical mating of souls that Jenny and Gabe had.

He wanted it, but maybe magic wasn’t meant for everybody.

Steve stripped out of his suit and tossed it on the chair in his room. At first he’d been curious—and ungenerous, he admitted—about Jenny and Gabe, but that was before he got to know them.

Their relationship was clearly no sweet young thing looking for a sugar daddy or surrogate father, and he sincerely doubted that Gabe married Jenny in a deluded attempt to recapture his youth. He was only in his early forties and clearly cherished his wife.

What’s not to love? Kind and generous, Jenny possessed an innocent, charming quality about her—yet could be assertive when she needed to be. He found it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t like Jenny. So she dressed in jeans, went around barefoot, and wore her long hair in a ponytail? Looking younger than her age wasn’t a crime.

Steve changed into jeans and a polo shirt.

He gave Jen credit for even trying to help her stepdaughter. If it’d been him, he probably would have avoided that minefield altogether and sent Alex to her parents for answers about sex. But Jenny cared. Being a good stepmother was important to her. Steve admired her for it, and he could certainly identify with her need to prove herself.

Convenient or inconvenient, he hoped to someday find a woman like Jenny Harrison. He wanted someone to look at him the way she looked at Gabe, like life was special because he was there to share it. But deep down, he doubted he’d ever experience that kind of love. For now, he had to concentrate on proving to everybody, himself included, that he could hack it as an attorney.

Steve remembered how Jenny’s small hand and quick, shy smile had sent a surprising warmth shooting through him earlier on the dock when he’d helped her to her feet. He wanted that kind of magic all the time. Some day.

* * *

“Why can’t we go to the barber?” Michael asked, as Jenny pumped quarters into the Village parking meter.

“Stop whining. Mom said to take you here.” She hurried down the sidewalk, but her brother lagged behind. Hands crammed deep in his cargo short pockets, he lumbered along. “Michael, let’s go.”

“Come on Jen, don’t make me go to that old-lady place. Dad takes me to the barber.”

“Dad’s not here.” And Mom had asked Jenny to take Michael to get his haircut. She’d put up with his mop of hair for half the summer but insisted he get it cut before starting high school. Though it was weeks before school started, tennis practice began next week, and Mom figured shorter hair would be cooler.

Michael came to a halt. “Chez Lou Lou? Lou Lou? You’ve
got
to be kidding? I’m not goin’ in there.”

It was a fancy name, but Mom raved about the place her long-time hairdresser had moved to. Jenny put a hand to his shoulder and nudged him forward. “Let’s go. We’re late.”

“Barber’s cheaper,” Michael wheedled, pushing back against her hand. “I won’t tell. She’ll never know.”

Jenny held open the salon door. She and Mom had been getting along well lately and she finally trusted Jenny to be alone with Michael again. No way she was crossing Mom over a haircut. “She already paid. Get in here.”

Michael passed by her, took one look at the sparkling chandeliers, chic black-and-white triptych of the Eiffel Tower, and half-dozen chatting women, pivoted and bolted for the street.

Really, Mom? What were you thinking?

Michael collided with a couple of girls on their way in. The three sprang apart and took stock.

“’Scuse m– Oh, hi, Michael,” the pretty blonde said.

“Katie. Sorry.” He flashed her a shy smile and looked at the ground. A flush climbed Michael’s neck.

“Do you go here?” She smiled widely. “This place is awesome.”

“Uh...”

“Isn’t this where Cam got his Bieber, cut?” the brunette asked Katie. “Not that I
like
Justin Bieber, but Cameron is
totally
hot.”

“I think so.” She glanced at Michael and shifted her weight from one foot to another. “Guess we’ll see you at orientation.”

“Uh. Yeah.” Michael backed out of the way and let them pass. He pursed his lips, drew in a deep breath, and followed them in.

Jenny suppressed a smile.
Way to go, kid
.

Cindy looked up from the clumps of hair she was sweeping. “Hi, guys. Have a seat. I’ll be right with you.”

Jenny sat down on the black plush sofa next to the girls. She wouldn’t have pegged this as Mom’s type of place. The black and white decor and chandeliers were elegant and modern, but she’d expected to hear more sophisticated or French music, yet somehow the soft upbeat hip tunes worked too. Funny that it appealed to Mom. Jenny picked up the latest
People
Magazine.

“I thought we were late?” Michael muttered, while dropping into the corner chair.

Jenny’s hand froze over the opening pages as she shot him a warning glance. Cindy was a nice lady; she’d been Mom’s stylist since they moved back from San Diego, and Jenny didn’t want her feelings hurt because of Michael’s pissy attitude.

Wiping his hands on his shorts, Michael studied the glossy white floor tiles. He looked out the window, then began biting his cuticles, all the while assiduously avoiding looking in the girls’ direction.

With a warm smile, Cindy came over and put her hands on her trim hips. “How’s married life, Jenny? Your mom sure dotes on those grandkids. We love her pictures of Alex and...” She squinted and frowned. “Teddy? Ted?”

“Ted.” Jenny said. “Yeah, they’re pretty crazy about her, too.”

“That Alex is a beauty.”

“She is. How’s your baby? Isn’t he about two now?”

“He’s three—and adorable. Thanks for asking.” She turned to Michael. “Ready, Michael?”

Michael glanced at the girls at the far end of the room where they were consulting with a stylist. With a brief nod, he followed Cindy to her station.

Jenny smothered a grin.
The things we do for love
.

Jenny thumbed through the magazine, scanning the latest batch of celebrity pictures, when she hesitated on a two-page spread of before-and-after shots of celebrity haircuts. There were several comparison shots of Katie Holmes—she was beautiful with or without long hair, but it seemed hardly a fair comparison when in the pics of her after the haircut she had makeup on and before she seemed more natural.

Reese Witherspoon was the exception who didn’t really look very different with shorter hair, but Jenny unquestionably preferred her as a blonde. She winced at Nicole Kidman’s short haircut shots. Nicole looked okay with a bob, but Jenny definitely liked her better with longer hair. Jennifer Lawrence and Gwyneth Paltrow, too.

Wow. Halle Berry and Victoria Beckham totally rocked a really short pixie cut. She scanned the photos on the next page with envy. Selena Gomez, Taylor Swift, and Jennifer Aniston were gorgeous no matter how they wore their hair.

Miley...well...too bad she hadn’t stopped before sliding into ridiculous, where she tried to shock everybody by every means possible. Now Julianne Hough was classy. Julianne’d always been Jenny’s girl-crush. She’d loved her Dancing with the Stars-long sexy hair, but looking at Julianne’s gorgeous layered bob—”

A shadow fell over the magazine, and Jenny looked up at one of the stylists, who craned her head sideways to look at the magazine. “I hear she’s dating Brooks Laich now. I kind of liked her with Ryan Seacrest. They were cute together.”

“Yeah, but Ryan can’t really compare to those hockey player pecs and biceps.”

She chuckled. “True. Do you need help?”

“No, I’m just wait—” She glimpsed Julianne’s happy face, cocked her head sideways and looked up. “Well, maybe...”

Jenny sat in the swivel chair, heart palpating with every loud slice of the scissors as Linda hacked through Jenny’s thick ponytail. Panicked tears pricked her eyes.
Breathe, Jenny, breathe.

Somehow she’d expected it to be one fast chop—like a head on a guillotine, not five minutes of sawing, leaving her plenty of time to regret her whim.

Snip.
Moron
. Snip.
Stupid
. Snip.
Idiot
.

What’s the matter with you? You have beautiful hair. You love your hair. Gabe loves your hair. What’re you doing?

Snip.
Too
. Snip.
Late
. Snip.
Fool
.

“Getting there. You okay?” Linda asked.

“Mmhh.”
Just get it done!

Mom was right, again. Impulsive. When was she ever going to learn? It’d taken her ten years to grow her hair this long. She loved braiding it. What was she doing?

Oh quit being so melodramatic; it’s only hair. It’ll grow. You’ll be fine
.

One last saw and tug, and it was over. Smiling in triumph, Linda stepped in front of her, hefting her banded ponytail like a fisherman posing with his prize catch. “Heavy. Wanna see?”

Oh my God
. It had to be at least eighteen inches long. Horrified, Jenny shook her head put a hand to the back of her head, feeling the sheared rough ends. Linda patted her shoulder and bagged the hair for Locks of Love. “Don’t worry. The worst is over. Now comes the fun part.”

Fun for whom? She rolled her eyes then kept them shut. Jenny didn’t want to chance seeing herself in that full-length mirror directly in front of her.

You’re fine. Julianne looked older and more sophisticated, and you will, too. Everybody has to grow up sometime, chickie
.

Jenny kept her eyes closed as Linda moved around her, combing, pinning, snipping her hair into layers as she sculpted the bob. The rhythmic combing, parting, combing, snipping became a strange little meditation, relaxing Jenny. When satisfied with the rest, Linda carefully singled out the exact strands she wanted, and with minute, precise snips, she carved out long bangs.