Just Destiny (23 page)

“On time. I’m impressed.”

“You should be. Don’t ever expect it to happen again,” she joked, though they both knew Jenny loathed being late.

“What’s that?” He nodded to the hexagonal box sporting an elaborate pink satin bow resting in her lap.

“A gift for you to give your hosts.” She shrugged. “I didn’t know if you’d think of it. If you already have something, we can leave it in the car, or maybe you’d rather not—”

“What’d we get them?”

“A pound of Elan’s Candies by Maralyn. You can’t go wrong with candy.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I knew you’d come in handy.”

Her lips twitched and she looked at him from the corner of her eyes. “Anything to help.”

They made chitchat for a little while, then drove the last ten minutes to his boss’s summer house in silence, with Steve trying not to look at Jenny. He wondered what she was wearing under that thick winter coat. With her hair curled and piled on top of her head and diamond earrings in her ears, Jenny’d clearly gone to some effort with her appearance.

Until that moment, he hadn’t known what to expect. He hadn’t seen her out of sweats and grubby clothes since Gabe died—he would hardly have been surprised if she hadn’t gotten dressed up. Steve flattered himself that she’d gone to the effort to please him, though his conscience denied it. They drove up a long driveway, and Steve relinquished his car to the valet. With a hand at Jenny’s back, he guided her up several steps and through the front door.

A black-and-white uniformed maid smiled politely. “May I take your coat, ma’am?”

Steve took the box of chocolates Jenny handed him, helped her out of her coat, and then handed it to the waiting maid before pocketing the claim ticket. Turning back to Jenny, he froze. She wore a black and gold, gauzy, shimmery top that crisscrossed her breasts, leaving a tantalizing V opening. A delicate heart-shaped diamond cluster nestled just above her breasts.

Black clingy pants hugged her slim figure and dropped to strappy high-heeled sandals. Recent weight loss and skillfully applied makeup accentuated her cheekbones and made her skin appear flawless. Her light blue eyes seemed huge in her small face. A very slight dusting of glitter in her hair gave her a fairytale, enchanted aura. The whole package whispered classy elegance. She took his breath away.

He took her chin in his hand and lifted her face toward the chandelier light. “You’re wearing makeup.”

A flush colored her cheeks better than any blush could. Jenny slapped his hand away and laughed. “Shut up.”

“Wow.”

“Close your mouth, Grant. I can look presentable when I need to.”

He raised an appreciative eyebrow. “That’s more than presentable, Jenny. You look fantastic.”

She fidgeted with her beaded purse, then glanced at him from beneath long black lashes. “You’re looking pretty dapper yourself tonight. A tux?”

The tux was a remnant from his celebrity days. Steve backed up, unbuttoned his jacket and pulled it aside so she could admire his scarlet cummerbund. He posed first from his right and then from his left. Crossing his legs, he executed a Michael Jackson style spin, and arched an eyebrow over a cocky, playful grin. “Glad you approve.”

Jenny laughed at his clowning. Her husky chuckle warmed his heart. It was great to hear her laugh again. This was going to be a fun night.

“And you must be Annie.” A lady in her mid-fifties stood behind Jenny, holding out her jeweled hand. Her husband stood at her back. “It’s so good to finally meet you. I’m Patricia Corbridge—Daniel’s wife.”

Steve swore under his breath. It’d never occurred to him that people might think Jenny was his fiancée, but before he could correct his boss’s wife, Jenny smiled graciously and shook her hand. “Hi. Jenny Harrison—sorry to disappoint you, but I’m just standing in for Annie tonight.”

Steve hastily buttoned his jacket and introduced Jenny to his boss, Daniel Corbridge. “Jenny’s a friend. Annie’s son got sick and she had to stay home with him.”

Jenny glanced at him out of the corner of her eye at the white lie but luckily didn’t contradict him. Steve couldn’t take a chance that Mrs. Corbridge might feel slighted that his fiancée decided to forego her party for Bunko night. Some of the partners’ wives were easily offended, and Patricia Corbridge took her husband’s social engagements very seriously.

“Nothing serious, I hope,” Daniel said.

“Just a fever. I’m sure he’ll be fine in a few days.”

Mrs. Corbridge stared at him, her polite smile never reaching her shrewd eyes—she wasn’t buying it. Steve resisted the urge to loosen his necktie and squirm.

“Jenny Harrison…” Patricia turned to her husband. “Why do I know that name?”

“Ms. Harrison is coordinating the firm’s gift to that inner city clinic.”

“The Donnatelli Clinic,” Jenny supplied.

“Oh yes, it sounds like a fun project. What exactly are you going to do?”

“Well, we’d hoped to buy some books and a few toys to keep the children occupied in the waiting room. Since it’s a free clinic, it’s packed—as you can imagine—so the wait is often quite lengthy.”

Patricia turned to her husband. “And how much is the firm donating?”

“We hadn’t set an amount yet. What would you suggest?”

“Well, toys are nice, but easily broken and taken home. A television might work well—perhaps the clinic could run some informational/educational tapes occasionally, and a fish tank built into an open space, like at the dentist’s office, is always entertaining to children. And of course a fresh paint job with a nice cheery color, and maybe some subscriptions to
Ranger Ricks
and
Highlights
?” She put a hand on Jenny’s arm and leaned in. “Those were always favorites with our children.” She pursed her lips, considering. “I’d say ten thousand should do.”

Ten thousand dollars? Jenny briefly lowered her gaze to hide her popping eyes before turning to Patricia’s husband in polite inquiry.

He smiled and inclined his head. “I think we can manage that. We’ll get you a check made out to the clinic on Monday.”

“Thank you. That’s very generous.”

Daniel rocked back on his heels. “We do what we can for the community.”

“And it’s a tax deduction and creates goodwill,” Patricia added dryly.

“There
is
that,” he acknowledged with a chuckle.

“Well, it’s not ten thousand dollars, but…” Steve handed Patricia the box of candy. “Jenny thought you might enjoy this.”

She turned and smiled at Jenny. “Candies by Maralyn. I love the toffee. Thank you.”

Jenny waved her hand dismissively. “It’s just a little something. It’s kind of you to open up your home this way. It must have been a lot of work.” Jenny said with a bright smile as she made a show of looking around. “Your house is absolutely beautiful, Mrs. Corbridge.”

The older woman beamed. “Why thank you, dear. It’s no trouble, really. I love to entertain. And please, call me Patricia.”

“You certainly do it well. Look at the fresh greenery and all the candles, and the stunning tree.” She sighed in wonder. “It must have taken you weeks to put all that up.”

Steve very much doubted that Patricia had contributed more than a directing finger and a hefty check toward the elaborate decorations Jenny gushed over, but her appreciation seemed to please his boss’s wife.

Patricia blushed. “Oh, I didn’t do all this myself. I had help. I’m so glad you like it.”

Daniel turned to him. “Tough break on the hazing case—that was yours, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Daniel clasped him on the shoulder. “Well, you know the old saying: you’re not a real litigator until you’ve lost a million.”

Steve nodded, though he hated the sentiment. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

“When’re you filing on the university and the fraternity?”

He cleared his throat, acutely aware of Jenny’s rapt gaze. “The client’s health is unpredictable at the moment. I thought I’d wait until after the holidays.”

“Don’t wait too long.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “And I trust you’re going to bill the client this time.”

Steve resisted the urge to glance at Jenny. “The firm didn’t lose out.”

“I know, son. But the firm does a certain amount of pro bono cases and the rest…” He shrugged. “Have to find other representation.”

“He couldn’t afford it.”

“Can he afford it any better now?”

He thought about lying to his boss. What should he care where the money came from as long as the firm got paid. He shook his head. “No, sir.”

The older man gave him a steady look through rheumy eyes. “Then this’ll be your pro bono case for the year. You cannot pay for all the losses. You do your best for the client and then move on.” His raised eyebrows generated a wealth of wrinkles on his forehead. “Understand?”

Again he nodded. Steve hoped Patricia’s chatter had kept Jenny busy so she hadn’t overheard his boss’s little lesson.

Daniel raised his voice and slapped him lightly on the back. “What a shame to ruin a perfect record. You were batting a thousand.”

Steve nodded. Were these guys always going to talk to him like he was still a jock?

“Do you play pool?”

“A bit.”

“We’ll have to play a little eight ball later on my Christmas present.” He squeezed his wife’s shoulder. “While visiting her sister in North Carolina, Patricia got me a Vitalie Limited Edition—only one hundred made.” He puffed out his chest. “The Patriot. She’s a real beaut.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Daniel, why don’t you be a darling and get me and Jennifer drinks,” Patricia said.

Jenny’s lips locked in a stiff smile as she stared at Steve, trying to silently convey a meaningful message that, for the life of him, he couldn’t decipher.

Daniel nudged Steve. “That’s our cue—the ladies want to talk. White wine?” At his wife’s nod, he turned to Jenny. “Jennifer, what can we get you?”

Jenny tore her annoyed gaze from Steve’s and smiled at Daniel. “It’s just Jenny. Nothing as elegant as Jennifer, I’m afraid—unless my mother’s annoyed with me. Beer, please.”

“Be right back,” Steve said. He hated to abandon Jenny, but didn’t see any way around it.

When the men left, Patricia linked her arm through Jenny’s and walked her toward the living room where people gathered around the fireplace. A woman broke away from a group and moved toward them.

“I saw Steve going to the bar with Daniel.” She gave Jenny a sideways look. “So is this the fiancée?” she asked in a stage whisper.

“This is Jenny Harrison—a friend of Steve’s. Jenny, meet Vivian Foster—an attorney at the firm.”

Jenny chuckled at Vivian’s crestfallen face. “Sorry—not the fiancée.”

“But there really
is
a fiancée?” she asked, clearly not wanting there to be.

“There really is.” Jenny silently commiserated with the other woman.

“Well that’s sad.”

“It is.”

Vivian’s eyes narrowed suspiciously on Jenny. “Just friends? Steve hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you arrived.”

She’d been watching them? That was a little disconcerting. “He worries about me. My husband died recently.”

“I’m so sorry,” Vivian said.

“Condolences,” Patricia said.

“Thank you.” She could tell they were dying for details about Gabe’s death, but Jenny didn’t feel like satisfying their curiosity. “Gabe and Steve have been friends for years. Since Gabe died, Steve doesn’t seem to notice that I can take care of myself, but truth be told,” she lowered her voice, confiding, “his bossiness is getting a little old.”

Vivian leaned forward, closing their little circle. “I know a few women that wouldn’t mind him bossing her around.”

“Who can blame them? He’s gorgeous and rich,” Patricia said.

Not to mention funny, smart, and sweet, Jenny added silently. She sought Steve out at the bar where he stood with his boss. Though facing Daniel, he was looking over the other man’s shoulder at her. She smiled and nodded to reassure him.

Jenny had to admit Steve was the most handsome guy in the crowded room. Not only was he good looking, but the way he stood with his shoulders back exuded confidence, and he moved with the natural grace of an athlete. Steve could be very charming; she didn’t doubt he had every woman’s heart aflutter. He reached forward to accept drinks from the bartender and Jenny turned her attention back to the ladies.

“And coming this way.” Vivian and Patricia shared a private look, then stared quizzically at Jenny.

Steve handed Patricia her drink before giving Jenny her Corona. “Viv, can I get you a drink?”

“No, thanks, I’m good.”

He reached out a hand to Jenny. “We’re going to check out that fabulous buffet in the dining room.” He tugged on her arm playfully. “She gets mean when she’s hungry.”

Jenny turned back to the ladies. “Would you like to join us?”

“No, thanks. You two run along. And if you like meat, the prime rib is superb,” her hostess added.

“I’ll remember that, thanks.” Jenny turned away and leaned into Steve, whispering, “What’s that all about?”

“From the looks of that huddle, I assumed you needed rescuing.”

“Where were you when she called me Jennifer?” Gabe would have corrected the mistake immediately.

“What?”

“Never mind.” She drew him aside. “You paid the college kid’s legal fees?”

Steve tugged on her hand, pulling her toward the buffet. “Let’s eat.”

Jenny was tempted to draw the moment out and make Steve admit that beneath that competitive spirit and analytical lawyer brain lurked the soul of a really decent man, but instead she gave in to his obvious embarrassment and patted him on the back. “I’m proud of you, Grant.”

They crossed the large, open living room where a saxophonist, drummer, cellist, and harpist squeezed in around a grand piano in the right hand corner. The furniture had been cleared to create a dance floor. An elaborately decorated twelve-foot Nordic spruce stretched to the ceiling on the other side of a long wall of windows that looked out over Lake Huron.

Jenny wandered down the elegant buffet to the dessert table that offered crystal cups of chocolate mousse, white bowls of crème brûlée, three different cheese cakes, tiered platters of cream puffs and assorted pastries, and silver platters piled high with colorful fruits and a variety of cheeses.