Page 58 of Opening Strain

She beams at me, making me think I made the right decision. I know better than to get my hopes up, though. Lissa taught me that lesson back in high school, which only reinforced Mom’s refrain. Still, I deserve a quick shot at fleeting happiness.

I dial Russo Real Estate. Angie soon is on the line, joined by King at my request. I outline our idea and ask them to find me a house in the ten-million-dollar range. They agree and promise to be at Jenna’shouse within the hour, not without receiving a warning from me about the media swarm awaiting them here.

We sit, and Jenna forces my right leg up onto the sofa. “At the very least,” she says, “you’ll get to see more of my beautiful town. Even if you don’t buy anything, you’ll enjoy what the Huntes have to show you.”

“Us,” I correct her.

Her head tilts.

“If you think I’m going to buy a house without a second opinion, you’re crazy. After all, it was your idea I do this in the first place.”

“Only as a way to throw off reporters.” She wags her finger at me. “It was all you who decided to make this real. Besides, I need to get to the office.”

“You’re the boss. You deserve the morning off.”

“Oh no,” she protests. “I have a meeting.”

“When?”

“At two o’clock.”

I toss my head backward. “We’ll be done well before then.”

I can tell I’ve won the argument, but she doesn’t back down easily. “You’ll have to do your two sessions of physical therapy back-to-back.”

“Small price to pay.” Spending all day with this woman is not a hardship. Learning more about King and Angie and the town is a bonus.

A honk outside announces their arrival. Ignoring the paparazzi, they pull into the driveway, next to Jenna’s car. King opens the driver’s side and rushes to open the passenger door, where Angie steps out. To the screams of the paps, they approach the front door.

“I think you should stay hidden,” she says.

Jenna’s thoughtful comment warms my soul. “I think you should too. Just open the door and step back.”

The swing of her ponytail signals her assent, and soon the couple sweeps into the small foyer, the front door slamming shut behindthem. Angie’s brown eyes sweep over Jenna before landing on me. “Are you two all right?”

I raise my hands. “Been better, been worse.”

King chuckles. “One way to look at it. When you warned us about some reporters here, I thought you were exaggerating. Felt like my dad was in town.”

At least he has some familiarity with their tactics.

“We rushed out here and didn’t check the internet,” Angie explains. “What’s going on?”

I fill them in on the press reports about Jenna, who disappears into the kitchen to bring refreshments. “So, I need to rehabilitate her reputation while not giving away my true reason for being here. We thought checking out properties would be a good cover. Although”—I notice their hunched postures—“The more I consider this idea, the more I like it. If you show me a property that wows me, you might have a sale.”

Angie’s the first to recover from my two truths. She stands taller and rubs her hands together. “In that case, we’re going to give you a choice you can’t refuse.”

Jenna enters the room. “Is that a badGodfatherreference I hear?”

“Seems like it,” I quip.

Jenna slants me a quick glance as she puts a tray of coffee mugs onto the table. In a flash, I’m back to our initial meeting at the club, debating the merits of the first versus the second film in the iconic series. How our normal conversation made me feelseenfor the first time in ages. How the real woman in front of me stirred something long forgotten deep within me.

How is she doing it again?

King lifts a brown bag I hadn’t noticed. “Picked up some bagels that will go great with your coffee.” He looks at his wife. “Angie’s taught me never to go to someone’s house without some food.”

“Awesome!” Jenna reaches over and takes the bag. “Let me get a platter and some plates, and I’ll be right back.” She disappears into the kitchen again.

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