Page 25 of Snowflakes Over Starr's Fall
“Because you’re not trying.” Even though she’d basically acknowledged the same thing to herself, Jenna couldn’t help but wince, and Jack noticed. “I’m not being mean, just honest,” he reminded her as he filled up both their wineglasses. “The sign out front is ancient, and the wood looks rotten. The broken gas pump and the old sofa on the porch are basically functioning as ‘Stay Away’ signs foranytourist, never mind a discerning one. And while the store itself has a lot going for it—a certain rustic charm, shall we say—you’re not capitalizing on it at the moment. At all. It’s like you’re daring people to come in and accept the store as it is, rather than enticing them to a retail experience they’ll enjoy. It’s got a definite ‘take me as I am or screw you’ kind of vibe, and that generally doesn’t appeal to people, especially people who want to buy things.”
There was a hint of gentle humor in his voice, and Jenna tried to smile, even though it was starting to feel personal again.Verypersonal. And yet she knew he was right. The resistance to changing the store wasn’t actually about the store at all. It was about her. About how she’d changed herself inside out for a person once and she never wanted to do it again.
How messed up was that, and also… how had she not fully realized that before? How had a man she barely knew seen something she’d been so blind to herself?Deliberatelyblind, and maybe that was the reason why she hadn’t seen it.
“Have I overstepped?” Jack asked, sounding wry as well as regretful. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You have some good ideas.” Jenna took a sip of wine. “And you’re right, the store could definitely use a major refresh. I might take some new ideas on board, although putting in a coffee kiosk and an olive bar…” She shrugged. “I don’t have the financial resources for any major change, I’m afraid.” It was a little humbling to admit that to someone who was obviouslynotstrapped for cash.
For a millisecond, she thought Jack might offer to loan or maybe even give her some money, and Jenna tensed, readying herself for a polite but firm refusal. She was not about to become his charity case. But then he sat back, his wineglass cradled in his hand and simply said, “You could always get a small business loan. There are some banks that have initiatives particularly for rural regeneration. I’ve looked them up, and I could forward you some links.”
Relief coursed through her; that had been an awkward moment she was glad to avoid. “Thank you,” she said, meaning it, because already Jack had gone above and beyond for her. “I’d appreciate that.”
He smiled, and it felt like things were easing between them; she wasn’t going to cry, and he wasn’t going to offer her money. Good.
As for what the rest of the evening held… Jenna had no idea. What had happened so far had already wrung her out completely.
11
Jack could have kicked himself when he’d seen Jenna’s golden-green eyes fill with tears. He really had not meant to make her cry, but when it came to businesses and whether they were workable or not… well, he tended to see things in a brutal black and white, and, truth be told, he’d supposed Jenna was made of tougher stuff. It was kind of nice to know she was softer than he’d thought. Even so, he was glad they’d moved past that uncomfortable moment, as well as the ones earlier when, like a total loser, he’d basically told her he had no friends.
It still made him cringe to consider how she must view him—some sad, lonely rich guy rattling around in a big, empty house on his own, desperate to be of use to someone. Pathetic. And yet… there had also been something surprisingly refreshing about how unfazed Jenna was by his wealth. His Rolex was a joke to her, she hadn’t seemed particularly impressed by the size of his house, or the fact that he’d made his first million nearly twenty years ago. It was so different from the women he’d known back in New York, who, at least in the circles he’d traveled in, seemed more interested in the particulars of his bank account than his personality.
But he really hadn’t wanted to make her cry, although she’d looked even more beautiful with her eyes sparkling and luminous with tears. A couple of times tonight, it had felt like they were flirting, and yet the “maybe later” joke about his bedroom had caused her to blush and stammer. It was hard to gauge how she felt about him; she seemed guarded about her own emotions, but then he was about his, as well. He wondered what was so painful, that she couldn’t talk about it in regard to the store, and why she was reluctant to change anything. There was clearly some serious history there, but he wasn’t about to press.
“So why Starr’s Fall?” she asked as she took another bite of risotto. Outside the moonlight was silvering the surface of the lake, and the kitchen yawned all around them, the recessed lighting creating pools of light and shadow. Despite the size of the room, it felt intimate. “I mean, why not stay in New York?” she asked. “Or go to the Hamptons, or I don’t know…”
“Somewhere more my type?” he filled in, and she gave a slightly abashed smile.
“Well, somewhere thatseemsmore your type, but I’m coming to realize I shouldn’t stereotype you, or anyone, I suppose.Mea culpa.”
“I’m glad to hear I’m confounding your assumptions.” He settled back into his seat. “I picked Starr’s Fall,” he told her, “because my mother is in a nursing home in North Canaan.”
“Oh.” Her mouth made a perfectly rounded O of surprise as her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”
“Why would you? I didn’t tell you.” He paused as he felt a familiar sadness steal over him at the thought of his mother—wispy-haired, vacant-eyed, an uncertain smile curving her lips whenever she caught sight of him.You look like someone I once knew… You aren’t the guy who redid my kitchen, are you?
“She has Alzheimer’s,” Jack explained. “Fairly advanced now, unfortunately. I spent the last twenty years too busy to see her much, even after my dad died, and I guess I’m trying to make up for lost time. A brush with death really makes you seriously rethink your priorities.”
“That sounds so tough.” Her voice was soft and compassionate in a way he’d never heard before, and he realized how much he liked it. Helikedsomeone caring about what he was going through, how he felt, even just a little bit. It had been a long time, way too long, since he’d felt like anyone did.
“It can be hard,” he admitted. “She doesn’t always know who I am. Sometimes she does, though. It just depends on the day. I had the idea that she could come live with me here, in time, but her neurologist said to leave it for now. She’s settled in the home and any change could make things worse, so…” He spread his hands wide, looking remorseful.
“Oh, Jack.” Jenna shook her head, full of sorrow. “Annie Lyman is going through something similar with her mom, but it’s nearer the end, I think.” She let out a sigh as she finished her wine. “Why does life have to be so hard sometimes?”
“Just the way it is, I guess.” He took a sip of wine before asking, “What about your parents?”
Jenna made a rueful face. “Well… they’re living their best lives in Florida, having retired from the store nearly five years ago.”
He cocked his head, curious. “You don’t sound entirely pleased about that.”
A breath escaped her, long and low and gusty. “I should be, I know. They worked hard and they deserve a break. It’s just… they’ve never been all thatinterested, as parents. In their children, I mean.” She grimaced again. “Which sounds kind of pathetic, coming from a thirty-nine-year-old woman. I mean, I should be over that kind of thing, right? So my parents were a little hands-off. Most parents were of their generation, anyway. It’s just… they were so wrapped up in each other and their own romance, and sometimes it felt a little… lonely, watching it from the outside. Plus it caused me to make some bad choices, not that I blame them for that. It was just… hard.” A sudden laugh, almost like a bark, escaped her. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I wouldn’t normally.” She paused before admitting with another laugh, this one sounding uncertain, “I think… I think I might be a little drunk.” She gave him a direct look, a small smile playing about her mouth, that had Jack’s senses flaring to life. The way she’d spoken… it had almost sounded like some kind of invitation.
“Well, it’s good wine,” he finally remarked, keeping his tone light. “I can always call you a taxi, you know, so don’t worry about that.”
“A taxi?” She let out another bark of laughter. “There are no taxis in Starr’s Fall. There was once, but the driver, Harry McCall, got too many speeding tickets and lost his license. Anyway.” She straightened in her seat. “I can call Annie or Maggie to give me a lift. Don’t worry about that.” She checked her watch as she gave a laughing grimace. “But was that a hint to get going?”
“No, it definitely wasn’t.” Instinctively he reached over and caught her wrist, enjoying the feel of her warm skin beneath his fingers, the slight indrawn breath of surprise at his touch. “I don’t want you to go,” he admitted quietly, sounding far more heartfelt than he’d meant to, and then deciding he didn’t care.
