But this time, I don't want to give in to your demands, and I can't give you everything you want. I know I said I was yours, and I meant it. I still do. If you want to believe I lied to you, then I'm sorry. But I guess that would mean you lied to me, too.
I know you think it's unfair, and I'm sorry for that, too. It just is what it is. I wish you felt differently, because I love you more than I thought was possible.
Give me time, and we can talk. But know this now - I'm not going to change my mind.
Love forever,
Jenna
He read through the email twice more, then snapped out a curse. Although whether he was cursing himself or Jenna, he didn't know.
But tonight was the calendar contest, and whether she liked it or not, he was going to be there. He had to see her, even if he just watched from the sidelines. He had to see her and decide what the hell he was going to do.
That wasn't for a few more hours, though. Until then? Well, he had a truck, and he had a CD player, and at the end of the day, he was Texas born and bred. He was going to put in a CD--classic country, because the songs had to be about broken hearts and lost dreams--and he was going to drive up to Mount Bonnell, the highest point in the city. He was going to sit there and look at the river and feel like a fool for being in such a romantic spot all by himself.
And, dammit, he was going to think.
Determined, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door, only to find his father standing there. He hadn't yet told his dad and Edie about the pregnancy or the fact that Jenna had moved out or about their philosophical difference about marriage. And he didn't want to have that conversation now.
Trouble was, his dad rarely braved the stairs up to the apartment. If he did, it was probably for a heart-to-heart. And that meant that he'd probably noticed Jenna's absence.
"Dad, I--"
"Keep these for me," his dad said, shoving a pack of cigarettes into Reece's hand. "And if you see me with another pack, you call me out. You hear me, son?"
"I--" He glanced down at the pack, and then up to his father. "Yeah, of course. But why?" He'd been on his dad to quit for as long as he could remember.
Something bright lit his father's eyes, but when he answered, he barely smiled. "It's time," his father said. "Sometimes, you just know when it's time to change."
Chapter Nineteen
Tonight was the contest for Mr. January. The first event of The Fix on Sixth's Man of the Month calendar contest.
It was, Jenna knew, probably the single most important event of her career.
And all she wanted to do was go home, crawl under the covers, and go to sleep.
For days, she'd been working her tail off and battling morning sickness. And neither one of those was as hard or as unpleasant as getting through a day without Reece.
"Am I being an idiot?" she asked Brent for the hundredth time. He was doing a security pre-check for the event and had just finished talking to the doorman and the new bouncers they'd hired. The event had gotten so much press and the tickets had sold out so fast that they were expecting an over-capacity crowd. They'd let people in when space opened, but if folks got rowdy on the street, Brent needed to have a plan in place.
"You're not being an idiot," he assured her. "But why don't we talk about this tomorrow when we're past the contest. I mean, maybe that's a crazy suggestion, but I thought since we both have a checklist about a mile long..."
"I know. You're right. I'm sorry."
His pragmatic pep talk pushed her back into a work groove, and she blasted through a ton of last minute details. She'd hired a graduate student from the drama department at the University of Texas to stage manage the contest, because Jenna wanted to be in the audience in order to gauge the reaction and decide if they needed any design changes. Now Taylor walked Jenna through all of her prep. Her long brown hair was pulled back into an efficient ponytail, and as far as Jenna could tell, Taylor had no worries at all about tonight going off without a hitch.
"We've got this," Taylor said. "Trust me, it's going to be amazing."
The staging area was in the back bar, which was closed for the event. Each man would walk up a red carpet that was being laid right then, climb the stage, take off his shirt, and then say a few words to the audience. Jenna anticipated that some of them would strip with a flourish, while others would be a bit more subdued. But she'd seen all of their pictures, and she was confident that none would be a dud.
Jenna considered the event's emcee as the greatest coup. Beverly Martin, who'd recently starred in an indie film that was getting a lot of notice. She'd actually approached Jenna, who'd been afraid that she'd have to emcee the contest herself.
When Jenna had asked Beverly why she wanted the gig--and how she'd heard about it--Beverly had been coy. And since Jenna wasn't an idiot, she didn't push. She just said a silent thank you to whatever guardian angel was watching over her, then moved on to the next task.
"You'll go over everything with Beverly? Have we got a teleprompter?"
"It's all good. Chill." Taylor's voice held laughter. "There," she said, pointing. "Isn't that the woman you're meeting with for lunch?"