He was about to automatically answer that he wouldn’t know, but that wasn’t exactly true. “I’ve met someone, too.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding! How awesome is—wait, please don’t tell me she has red hair and her name is Jenna.”
“Why do I not like the way that sounds?”
Tiffany crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the kitchen counter. “She came by here yesterday evening looking for you. Let’s just say we didn’t exactly get along.”
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth. That you were packing up your mom. And, I hate to say this, Ben, but she’s a little feisty. To put it nicely.”
“Tell me about it.” He couldn’t help but grin. “She can be a real pain in the ass.”
He hadn’t wanted to listen to the things Jenna had told him about his mom and Carl. But she’d been right. Yesterday while they’d been packing he’d observed them together. All this time it had been right there under his nose and he hadn’t seen it. Because he hadn’t wanted to see it.
“You do like her.”
He didn’t say anything.
Her face showed her surprise. “You more than just like her.”
“It’s complicated, but yeah.”
“Yikes. I’m afraid I might have run her off. For some reason she thought you’d be home last night.”
“Shit.” He raked a hand through his hair. “She wanted to help me pack Mom up, but I told her there wasn’t much to do.”
“So you did lie to her.”
He stilled. “Is that what she said?”
“Not in so many words, but essentially, yes. Why didn’t you let her help?” Before he could answer, Tiffany got a knowing look in her eye. “Does she know about the foundation? And how that got started?”
When he didn’t say anything, she sighed. “Ben, I love you. You’re like the really cute-annoyingly-smart-big-brother-with-the-heart-of-gold I never had. But if you don’t open up and let this girl into your life, you’re going to lose her.”
* * *
Jenna wasn’t at the office. According to the receptionist, she’d called and said she wouldn’t be in till this afternoon. Was she sick? He drove to her place and knocked on her door. She answered it right away, like she’d been expecting him. They stood there a few seconds looking at one another. She wore leggings and a T-shirt and sneakers. Her face was flushed, and a light sheen of perspiration covered her forehead. He must have just caught her after a run.
It occurred to him that he should have brought flowers. Or champagne. Or diamonds. Or all of the above.
“Hey there,” she said. It was hard to gauge her mood, but she didn’t seem angry. Or particularly happy to see him either.
“I’ve come to beg for mercy.” She didn’t smile at that. “I’m sorry I didn’t return your call last night. My phone died and… Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She took a seat in an oversized chair leaving him to sit on the couch. There was a glass of wine on the coffee table in f
ront of her. It was ten in the morning and she was drinking. Which couldn’t be good. Her gaze followed his. “I’d offer you a glass, but you don’t drink, do you?”
He shook his head.
She shrugged. “I suppose you have a perfectly good reason for that, not that it’s any of my business. Normally, I don’t drink this early in the morning, but today is kind of special.”
He didn’t like the way that sounded.
“You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”
“No.”