A few more deep breaths. I can’t hide forever.
Confidence is not what I feel when I leave the office, but I do have determination and a simmering rage that Gloria helps stoke when she makes a big deal about greeting me as I come out. She even asks, loud enough for everyone within a few yards to hear, “There you are! Feeling okay?”
“I’m fine, Gloria,” I tell her, and try not to give away the punchline of the night by smiling. After this, the bitch is gone. I don’t care if her mother and mine become lesbian lovers — I am done with Gloria, and I’m even considering firing her publicly, tonight, in front of everyone.
All right, maybe those are the hormones talking.
But it would be satisfying.
I make my way through the thick crowd, accepting praise for the dishes, compliments for the chefs, and answering a few questions about how we chose the different peppers. I’m trying to be focused, and present, and attentive… but I can’t help looking for Jake. So far, I can’t see him.
Eventually, after the first wave of guests disperses, Gloria corners me. “So, I was thinking we could do the announcement of my new position around ten.”
“Why?” I ask, innocently.
“Why ten, or why the press release? Because you’re looking just a little extra chubby tonight, aren’t you? I wonder who else thinks so? I should ask — ” She turns as if to wave down the nearest blogger she can identify.
I put a hand on her arm. “No need for that,” I tell her. “I’ll make the announcement at ten.”
“Good,” Gloria says. “I’ll keep an eye on the clock. You know, to make sure we stay on schedule. Would hate for you to miss your cue, right? I’ll announce you! Oh, that’s a good idea, don’t you think? Introducing the wonder Janie Hall! Don’t worry, folks, she’s just had an extra muffin or two before gracing us with her presence. Promise she’s not preggers!”
“Keep your voice down,” I snap, though my face says we’re just having a friendly conversation. “Make it simple. If this gets out because you slipped up announcing me, the deal is off and you’re out of a bargaining chip. Understand?”
Gloria waves my warning off as though I told her she needs to be careful to look both ways when crossing the street. “Calm down. I’m well aware of all that. Just don’t fuck me on this, Janie. Or… you know… I’ll fuck you.” She giggles. “But I guess I’ll be getting sloppy seconds.”
I cannot wait to spring my surprise.
I only wish Jake was here for it.
If he doesn’t show…
Well, that’ll be a sign, at least, of what’s to come. Confirmation that he doesn’t want to make nice, and that I’ve damaged that relationship — both of us have, I suppose — beyond repair.
And if I know Jake Ferry and his father, the next thing I’ll hear from either of them will be delivered by lawyers. A request for a DNA test, a protracted legal battle over custody… and if they won — which I can’t help but imagine they would, given that I can’t possibly match their resources or, hell, pay off a judge — Reginald at least would almost certainly push for child support. He’d get it. And I’d be ruined for good, both financially and publicly, because there would be cameras on me day and night, and all over the trial and…
Calm. Deep breaths.
Focus on now.
As I make my way through the crowd again, though, the thing that hurts the worst about all of that uncertain future is that there would be no Jake in it. Not with me, anyway.
And honestly, at this point, I can’t help feeling like that’s the worst-case scenario.
Chapter 56
Janie
Nine thirty. Gloria is keeping me apprised, about every ten to fifteen minutes or so. Every time I meet with a blogger, she magically appears — I really think she could pull off the appearing-in-a-cloud-of-sickly-yellow-sulfur-smoke look. I expect her to cackle like the wicked witch of the west every time she leaves me.
It could just be my imagination, but is her dress gradually showing more and more cleavage?
When she’s not haunting me and posing for bloggers, she’s fawning over every man in the room with a nice outfit and no woman. And some that do have a woman with them. Shameless, that girl. It actually does amaze me how she can occupy herself with flirting like that and still manage to intercept every blogger and journalist that approaches me. If she weren’t such a horrible person, she might actually have made a decent personal assistant.
It’s 9:35. Still no sign of Jake. Chester keeps asking me if I need anything to drink, and I keep telling him “not yet” as though I’ll eventually want one. Once I make the announcement it won’t matter, I suppose.
Lacey emerges from the kitchen at last, and I take that opportunity to direct all the attention her way.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I call out, approaching her. “Please put your hands together for the real hero behind tonight’s extravagant spread — my partner in crime and my guardian angel, Chef Lacey Ming!”