Can't Stop the Feeling (Whispering Bay Romance 6)

With any luck their drink would turn into dinner.

And if he was really lucky, maybe it would turn into something a whole lot more.

* * *

Jenna sat back in her chair and looked in disgust at the mountain of paper on her desk. She’d hardly gotten anything done all morning, despite the fact that she’d worked through lunch. It was all Ben’s fault. Who could concentrate when in just a few hours she’d be meeting him for a drink?

What on earth would they say to one another?

Hey! Remember that time I called you an asshole? Or how about when I shouted to everyone who could hear that I hated you? Ha-ha! Good times, huh?

She stood and stretched out her back. Sitting hunched over a computer all day wasn’t doing her body any favors. Besides running she should probably take up yoga. Or maybe she’d get one of those new desks that were ergonomically correct, the ones that raised up so you could work in a standing position.

Just because this was the desk that came with the office didn’t mean she couldn’t change things up. There wasn’t money in the budget for new office furniture, but Jenna wouldn’t mind paying for it herself, because besides the fact that this chair made her back ache, it was creepy thinking that Doug Wentworth had once sat here.

The office had been newly painted, but Jenna couldn’t help but feel that part of Doug’s bad mojo still lingered. A new desk and chair would help exorcise the ghost of Whispering Bay’s sleazy former city manager. She’d order a new set, and have it delivered as soon as possible.

She opened her laptop and began studying the city budget again. Despite years of mismanagement, the accounts couldn’t be in this bad a shape. Or could they? Maybe she’d ask for another audit. Although, it probably wouldn’t make a difference. From what she could see, it was the almost completed new recreational center currently in the finishing stages that had eaten most of the budget for the past few years. The city had begun construction before Doug Wentworth had come on as manager, so as much as she’d like to, she couldn’t really blame him for it.

Tired of looking at the same figures over and over, she typed Ben and Tiffany’s names into the Google search bar and hit Images for the third time today. Ever since she’d taken the stalker plunge, it was like she couldn’t help herself. Mimi was right. Tiffany and Ben made a striking couple. He said he didn’t have a girlfriend, but it was hard to believe that he and Tiffany were just friends.

She slammed down her laptop screen and focused on her grumbling stomach. The Bistro closed in thirty minutes. Maybe she could still grab something.

Jenna rushed into The Bistro just as Sarah was wiping down the front counter. “Am I too late to get something to eat?”

“We never turn down a customer.” Sarah smiled at her. “What can I get you?”

“A turkey panini and a latte.” She’d just finished paying for her meal when she spotted Greta the nanny leading Ben’s daughter toward The Bistro’s front door.

Rachel let go of Greta’s hand and ran toward her. “You’re the lady who knows my daddy!” Her dark hair was pulled back in a neat little braid, and she wore a yellow sundress and sneakers with frilly white socks. In other words, drop-dead cute. Her big brown eyes eagerly stared up at Jenna.

“Rachel,” Greta said stern

ly. “We don’t talk to strangers.”

“But…she knows my daddy.” She turned back to Jenna. “Don’t you? You said you did.”

Jenna bent down and smiled at the little girl. “Greta is right. You shouldn’t talk to strangers. Maybe we can take care of that.” She put her hand out. “I’m Jenna and I love your dress.”

Rachel solemnly shook her hand. “I’m Rachel Ann Harrison and I’m four years old.”

“So, now we’re not strangers anymore, are we?” That was meant exclusively for Greta. Jenna understood the nanny’s rule on not talking to strangers, but Greta had seen her talking to Ben, so she had to know that Jenna didn’t really fit into that category.

Greta met Jenna’s gaze with a cold expression. “You were friends with Rachel’s father?”

“Sort of,” Jenna said, realizing how wishy-washy that sounded, so she decided to amend her answer. “We used to spend a lot of time together, but that was a long time ago.”

Greta looked at Jenna as if she was something to take out with the garbage. “I see.” She grabbed Rachel by the hand. “We have to go now.”

“But…can’t we stay and have a cookie?” Rachel pleaded. “You promised me I could have one if I didn’t spill my drink and I didn’t.”

“Yes, but you didn’t eat all of your sandwich. We have to follow the rules, Rachel.”

Rachel’s face scrunched up like she was about to cry, but she didn’t. Jenna didn’t know a lot of four-year-olds, but she’d seen her nieces throw enough tantrums to realize that Rachel seemed more in control of her emotions than most children her age.

“It was nice seeing you again, Rachel,” Jenna said.

The little girl didn’t say anything, but before they walked out the door, she turned and gave Jenna a sad little wave good-bye.