Page 30 of Snowflakes Over Starr's Fall
“Not so much now, I guess?” Jenna filled in softly. She felt sorry for him; it sounded like he’d had a very full life, and just about all of it had been taken away from him. She knew what that felt like, even if her experience had been about heartbreak rather than health.
Jack’s gaze moved to the view outside the huge window with its endless vista of lake and sky, sunlight sparkling on water. “I’m not about to complain,” he told her, nodding toward the window. “I know I’m one seriously lucky guy, in all sorts of ways. But… I miss having a purpose, even if that purpose ended up being not so great for my mental or physical health, which I didn’t even realize until I was in ICU, being prepped for surgery. Talk about needing a wake-up call.”
“So you feel like you need a new purpose now?” Jenna clarified, and he cocked his head, as if waiting for more. “Well…” She felt as if she were edging out onto a diving board, high above the water, about to do a swan dive when she barely knew how to swim. “I could help with that,” she offered uncertainly, already half-regretting putting herself out there.
Jack raised his eyebrows. “You could?”
“I can’t pay the big bucks, or even any bucks at all, but you don’t seem like you’re hurting for money.” He nodded his acceptance, looking intrigued, waiting for more. “You could be the consultant on my store revamp,” Jenna explained a little stiltedly, because she felt so nervous. What if he shot her down?Uh, thanks, but I’m not that bored… “You’ve already given me good advice, but I know I’ll need some help putting it into practice. A lot of help.” Especially since she took everything about the store so personally. She really needed to get over that. Now that Jack had so helpfully pointed it out to her, hopefully she would… with some continued guidance. “That might not be the kind of thing you had in mind,” she backtracked when he still hadn’t spoken. “To help out a Podunk store in a Podunk town.”
“No, it’s not that…” he said quickly before clarifying, “I mean, it’s not what I was expecting, but that’s not a bad thing. At all.” He gave a little laugh, although Jenna still couldn’t tell what he really thought about her idea. “I’m honored you’d want me to be a consultant,” he told her. “I… I get the feeling that the store isn’t just you, it’s also like your baby.”
“Ye-es,” Jenna acknowledged. “And it’s struggling. A baby in distress.” She tried to smile. “So I know I need help, serious help… and here you are, an expert on everything?—”
“Hardly—” Jack began to scoff.
“I mean that sincerely,” Jenna told him. “I’d be stupid not to ask for your help… that is, if you were willing to give it.” As she said the words, she realized how true they were. Jack Wexler was a goldmine of information and experience. No, he didn’t have a lot of history with Starr’s Fall or even small towns, but Jenna had come to realize that he had the acuity and intuition to understand both the town’s—and the store’s—needs and challenges.
And at the base of all this pragmatic problem-solving was the exciting and uncomfortable knowledge that really she just wanted to spend time with him.
Was he aware of that?
Whether he was or not… he still hadn’t spoken. He was just looking at her thoughtfully, and a sudden, scorching mortification swept over her. “Sorry, I realize how this must sound,” Jenna blurted, horrified by what she was sure he must think. “I just basically asked you to work for me for free and then acted like I was doing you a favor.” She shook her head, briefly closing her eyes in intense mortification. Here he was, a millionaire businessman, and she was offering to let him paint shelves. “Forget I said anything, please.”
“I don’t want to forget you said anything,” Jack replied, a smile in his voice as well as his eyes. “I like the idea. A lot. In fact… I’d been thinking of something similar myself. And I’d like to work with you. Not for you,” he clarified with a wry grin. “I think that would be difficult for both of us. But… if you want someone to help you with a vision of what Miller’s Mercantile could be, and help you achieve that… then, maybe I could be your man.”
Your man. The words went through her with a pleasantly thrilling ripple of awareness. Of course, Jack Wexlerwasn’ther man, not in any sense of those two words. But she still liked hearing him say it.
“Okay,” Jenna told him, a smile spreading across her face like warm butter. “It sounds like it’s a deal.”
13
“So,spill.” Laurie’s eyes danced with amusement and expectation as she leaned over the kitchen counter, waiting for Jenna to confess to all manner of things. “What’s going on with you and Jack?”
Jenna leaned back against the counter as she took a sip of wine, mainly to stall for time. It was three weeks since she’d asked Jack to be her unpaid consultant, he’d accepted, and they’d got to work. Three weeks since all of Starr’s Fall had been buzzing with friendly gossip, having clocked—as Jenna had known they would—that she’d spent the night at Jack’s house on Bantam Lake. Three weeks of everyone in the town wondering what was going on… including her.
“There’s nothing to spill,” she told Laurie with regrettable honesty. “He’s helping me renovate Miller’s Mercantile, which is wonderful, but that’s all.”
“That can’t be all,” Laurie protested, sounding both disbelieving and disappointed. “There arevibesbetween you two. And that date that lasted all night…”
“Laurie,” Jenna protested, part-scoldingly. “You know it wasn’t like that.”
“So you say,” Laurie replied teasingly as she turned to check on the casserole in the oven. Jenna had come over to Laurie’s for dinner, along with Joshua, Zach, and Maggie. She’d arrived early unknowingly—Laurie had invited her to come half an hour before everyone else so she could dish the dirt.
Sadly, there was no real dirt to dish.
In the three weeks since he’d started helping her, Jack had behaved like a perfect gentleman. More to the point, like the perfectbusinessman. Jenna had left his house practically floating on a cloud of deliciously nebulous possibilities, imagining cozy tête-à-têtes and long, lingering lunches while they chatted about everythingotherthan the store. They’d get to know each other. They’d bond. They’d evenkiss, maybe.
Yes, she’d thought that way. Vaguely. Sometimes not all that vaguely. Sometimes not vaguely at all. She’d hadhopes, and she’d felt those start to unfurl, even as part of her still wanted to keep them completely closed up and guard her heart as she always did. She’d still dreamed… of Jack. Of them flirting and then bonding over sanding floorboards or ripping out shelves or any of the number of things they’d been doing, helping to turn Miller’s Mercantile into a going proposition.
And the reality had been…? Not that. Definitely not that.
The very day she’d made the suggestion they’d headed straight over to her store, and he’d paced the floor, firing off suggestions about how to change its layout, initiatives to get the town more involved, creating a community hub in the space… All of it had been invigorating and exciting, making Jenna see the store in a whole new way, not just as a building but as a community.
“You need to cater to every customer,” Jack had told her seriously. “So you could look at creating a food pantry here—I don’t think there’s one in Starr’s Fall? As well as stocking a few key luxury items for the more well-heeled customers. And coupons are always a great way to bring people in, changing them every week, which keeps things fresh. People get excited when they feel like they’ve gotten a deal.”
She’d loved his suggestions, and even more excitingly, they’d sparked her own, so they’d riffed off each other, building on each other’s ideas, ending each other’s sentences. The sense of camaraderie and mind-melding had been evenmoreexciting, and yet… all the while, Jack had acted every inch the corporate CEO. Every time Jenna thought they might share some kind of moment, he’d turned away, pointing out another part of the store that needed work.
Jenna had managed to let go of her prickly self-defensiveness—mostly—when it came to Miller’s Mercantile, but his laser focus—when it wasn’t on her, but rather her struggling store—had felt dispiriting. Like he cared more about rehabilitating it than getting to know her, which maybe he did.
