One Night with a Star (Second Chances Book 2) (17 page)

“Because he turned out to be a jerk,” she defended herself.

“Yeah, well,” her dad sighed. He marched back to his workbench. “Just as long as this Simon guy doesn’t turn out to be a jerk too.”

As much as she wanted to argue until her dad accepted Simon, she could see it wasn’t going to happen like that. She ambled deeper into the garage, soaking up the familiar smells of fuel and metal and wood that reminded her of her dad, and leaned against his workbench.

“Dad, did you ever get to a point in your life where you questioned what the hell you were doing with it?” she asked.

He huffed a laugh. “About once or twice a month.”

She smiled. “No, seriously.”

“I am serious,” he said.

She let her smile drop and picked up a stray screw with a wingnut around it. “I used to be so pumped every time I closed on a house,” she told her dad, flicking the wingnut. “But today, all I could think about was how I wanted to get out of that office. I want to be at Twin Pines, setting up for the party and helping those great old people fight for the show. I want to fight for the show so that Simon stays here. Spence and Tasha too. I couldn’t care less about real estate.”

Her dad glanced up at her as he worked. “Is this all because of Simon or did you feel that way before he showed up again?”

She had to stop and think about it. The first thing that popped into her mind and heart was Daniel. It wasn’t Simon that had changed things, it was Daniel.

“I think I’ve been over my job ever since Daniel was born,” she told her dad.

“Kids change things,” he told her. “Boys change things too. Look at your mother.”

“What about Mom?”

Her dad shrugged. “She was on her way to being a chef when I came along and fixed her tire in that rainstorm.”

“I remember the story,” Jenny said. It was family urban legend. Her mom had been accepted to a prestigious Boston culinary institute, but when her dad had come along to help her when she was stranded by the side of the road in a storm, sparks had flown. The following spring there had been a wedding instead of a graduation.

Simon had come along out of the blue too. Not just at Spence and Tasha’s wedding. He had shown up in Summerbury last summer and swept her off her feet, made her dream of things she would never have imagined. He’d left her, but he’d left her with Daniel. Now those dreams and possibilities were there all over again, if only she could be like her mom and let go of the life she expected she would have.

“Mom never regretted dropping out of culinary school, did she?” she asked.

“Nope,” her father answered without hesitation. “Although you should ask her if you want the whole answer. I’m sure there’s all sorts of other girly emotions and stuff involved with it.”

Jenny laughed. She leaned forward and kissed her dad’s scruffy cheek. “She made a great decision.”

“Tell that to her next time she yells at me for tracking mud on her carpets,” he said, grim-faced, but with a spark in his eyes.

“I will.” Jenny turned to go, but her dad stopped her.

“Punkin’, do me one favor,” he said.

“Anything, Dad.”

He lifted his brow as if he would hold her to that. “Whatever you decide to do, whether you decide to drop one thing and take up another with this Simon guy, make Daniel the center of your decision.”

She shouldn’t have been so surprised that her dad would put his grandson at the heart of the matter, but then again, that was her dad.

“Of course I will,” she said.

“It’s none of my business whether I like the guy you’re with or not,” he went on. “I have serious doubts, but if you tell me Simon Mercer isn’t the same guy who you brought over here so I could tear him a new asshole, then I’ll try to believe it. But make sure he really cares about Daniel before you make any promises, okay?”

She smiled, warm down to her toes. When it came to dads, she was the luckiest girl in the world.

“Of course, Dad.”

She headed out of the garage and across to the house. It was a little too early for Daniel to be up from his nap, but her heart needed to see him right then. She needed to hug him and kiss him and promise him that he would always be her first priority.

And then she needed to do what her heart was screaming at her to do. She needed to go where she was meant to be and work for the cause she truly believed in. Carol might kill her for skipping out on work. She might even be fired. But Twin Pines needed her. Simon needed her.

Chapter Sixteen

As it turned out, Twin Pines didn’t just need her a little bit, it was desperate for her. She could tell from the moment she pulled her car into a parking space at the bottom of a hill that what she would find inside would be…interesting. A delivery truck had backed up toward the bottom of the stairs and ramp leading to the main building, but the delivery guys stood where they were, scratching their heads.

“What’s the problem?” Jenny asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder and walking around them, her heels clicking on the pavement.

“We were told we couldn’t use the ramp for deliveries,” one of the guys said.

“Why not?” Jenny frowned. “And isn’t there a delivery entrance for supplies and things?”

“There is,” the man said, “but we were told we couldn’t use that either. It’s for medical and resident deliveries only.”

That sounded suspicious. No, it sounded like Neil. She shook her head and grunted in frustration.

“You know what? Go up and use the delivery entrance anyhow. If anyone complains, you tell them Jenny Young said you could drop stuff off up there.”

The delivery guy grinned. So did his buddies. “If you say so, miss.”

“Oh, I do.”

Jenny left them to hop back in their truck and drive it up to where it should be as she climbed the stairs. She breathed in the crisp autumn air, invigorated. The leaves up here in the hills were gorgeous this time of year. And no one was going to tell her what she couldn’t do.

“Have you seen Simon Mercer?” she asked the young woman at the home’s front desk as she strode through the door.

“He’s in the activity room, I think,” the girl answered.

Jenny nodded, then marched down the hall. Yep, this was where she should be, all right. Working for a cause she believed in and people she liked. She got an extra boost of confidence when one of the home’s residents waved at her as if she was an old friend.

Her confidence lasted until she reached the main activity room. A scattering of tables were spread haphazardly across the room, some laden with decorating supplies, others with cups and plates and who knew what else. A pair of confused college-looking guys were trying to figure out the projector and screen to one side of the room while an equally confused pair of senior men were doing their best to help them. Mrs. Porter from the other day had her arms full of old photo albums, but was arguing with another resident about where to put them. Total chaos.

“No, we’re not allowed to use more than two outlets,” one of the assistants from Second Chances argued with another production crew member. They both wore badges around their necks.

“We can’t do this with just two outlets. Who told you that anyhow?” the second crew member argued.

“Who told you that you could only use two outlets?” Jenny asked, walking into their debate.

The first production assistant took one look at her, then shrugged and answered, “This guy from the Twin Pines board. He said it would jack their electric bill up.”

Neil. It had to be.

“Ignore him,” Jenny said. “Plug in whatever you need to plug in. I think someone has been pulling people’s legs around here today.”

The two assistants exchanged dubious looks. “If you say so,” the first one said. They headed off to take care of whatever they had been doing.

Jenny folded her arms, studying the chaos around her for a moment. If Neil had anything to do with this at all, she would flay him alive. Then again, it could just be that there wasn’t anyone in charge. Where was Simon anyhow?

“Mrs. Porter,” Jenny said, dealing with the easier stuff first. “What’s going on over here?”

Mrs. Porter saw her and broke into a relieved smile. “Hello dear. I was asked to bring some old photos for a display. You know, since so much of this program takes place in the past.”

“And I was told that we were absolutely not supposed to share our personal items,” the other older woman said.

“I’m sure everyone wants to see your photos,” Jenny said with a coaxing smile. “I think you should go grab as many as you can. Are they setting up a display with albums over here?” She walked to the table by the wall that had been draped with a white tablecloth.

“That’s it,” Mrs. Porter told her. She turned to the other woman. “See, Mildred. I told you so.”

Mildred huffed and brushed Mrs. Porter off with a gesture, then shuffled off, presumably to get her albums.

“Mrs. Porter, would you be in charge of this display?” she asked, checking an item off the list of things that needed to be done that her mind was already racing through.

“Of course, dear.” She squeezed Jenny’s hand.

Jenny didn’t stop there. Whatever was going on with the party, clearly someone had been telling the helpers setting it up different stories. She worked her way through the decorations committee, making sure they were all on the same page when it came to streamers and center-pieces and the like, asked around until she found someone to coordinate the residents who were desperate to volunteer, and finally consulted with the food committee. The delivery guys who she’d met outside came in with DJ equipment, and as soon as they let her know what kind of space they needed to set up in, Jenny coordinated the volunteers who were setting up chairs.

“Well, well. Looks like you’re a natural at this.”

Jenny was surprised to find Yvonne lingering behind her as she directed the volunteers hanging streamers. She blinked and turned to face the woman.

“I showed up and things were a mess,” she said. “Who is supposed to be in charge here?”

“You apparently,” Yvonne replied. She shrugged. “Simon was here, but there was a problem with the catering order, so he had to run out and find a way to solve it.”

“A problem with the catering, huh?” Jenny crossed her arms and shook her head. “Someone doesn’t want this party to happen.”

Yvonne hummed in answer. “Looks like someone is going to be disappointed.” Her lips twitched in a grin. Then she narrowed her eyes and studied Jenny. “But why are you here, doing all this.” She waved a hand at the buzz of activity.

Jenny smiled. “Well, you told me that if it was my fault, I should fix things.” She too glanced around. “Fixed enough?”

“Oh, honey. You’re good,” Yvonne said. “I can see why Simon is so crazy in love with you.”

The comment shouldn’t have made her feel like the teacher had given her a gold star, but it did.

Of course, that giddy feeling evaporated as Neil strode in from one of the side halls.

“Oh lord,” Jenny sighed. “Just what we need.”

Yvonne pivoted to follow Jenny’s gaze. She turned back with a knowing smirk. “Go rip his balls off, sweetie.”

Jenny barked a laugh, brushed her hands along her skirt like she would if she was going into a power meeting, then marched across the hall to confront Neil.

“What are you doing here?” he asked before she could reach him. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

She ignored him. “Someone’s been giving the party crew mixed messages, confusing everyone and causing trouble. You wouldn’t happen to know who that is, would you?”

If frowns could wither someone to dust, Neil was about to disappear in a puff. He at least had the good sense to look nervous.

“Twin Pines isn’t a rental hall,” he argued. “The activity room is for resident activities only, not outside parties.”

“So you are the one messing things up,” she said, undeterred.

Neil squirmed, alternately glaring at her and wincing, before blowing out a breath and saying, “You shouldn’t be here. Any of you.”

Jenny shook her head. “You know what, Neil? You need to get a life. Because right now, you just look like a petty loser.”

She turned to walk away with better things to do.

Neil stopped her by calling after her, “I’m not the loser, Jenny. I’m not the one who got knocked up by a sleazy celebrity.”

The noise level in the room dropped. Several sets of eyes peeked up from what they were doing to see what was going on. It was apparently exactly what Neil was going for.

“Yeah,” he continued. “I’m not the one who slept with half the football team either. So if we’re talking about people being losers—skanky, whore losers—then maybe you should take a look in your own mirror, huh?”

Jenny ground her teeth. Oddly enough, she had a really hard time working herself into a fury over someone who was so despicable as to bring up a stale old rumor from high school out of the blue. She whipped back to face him, hands on her hips.

“Oh, I’ve done a lot more than the football team in the last fifteen years, Neil.” She didn’t care who overheard her. There wasn’t a decision in her life that she regretted. She’d lived, she’d loved, she’d gone after her dreams. She was doing all of that again right now. “But let me know if you want to start dragging dirty laundry out in public, because you left a few bags of it in my life that I’d gladly dump all over the floor here, where you work.”

It was partially a bluff, but Neil turned an interesting shade of green and took a step back. “You should…. I just….” Ultimately he had nothing. He glanced around at the volunteers and production crew members, splotchy red joining the pale green of his face. Without another word, he pressed his lips together, then turned and fled the room.

A few whispers and hums of approval filled the silence that followed. Jenny ignored it all, arching an eyebrow and marching proudly out of the room toward the front desk. She had a party to see to and deliveries to coordinate.

Of course, the world had other plans.

“I can’t help you,” the flustered young receptionist at the front desk was saying to a woman in a suit and a young man with a camera beside her. “I’m not supposed to say anything.”

A year with Simon and Spencer in her life and Jenny knew what reporters looked like. After her confrontation with Neil, she was in no mood to deal with any of it.

“You,” she snapped as she came closer, ponytail swinging down her back. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?”

The female reporter straightened and opened her mouth to protest. She took one appraising look at Jenny and changed her mind. “I’m here with…with the Boston Globe. We heard…heard there was some sort of shake-up with the Second Chances production.”

Jenny didn’t buy it for a second. So help him, if Neil had called in the tabloids to cover this event, then not only was he a loser, he was a snake for putting the residents of Twin Pines in this sort of position.

“Let me see your credentials,” she said, coming to a stop in front of the desk and holding out her hand. When the two didn’t instantly move, she snapped her fingers. “Come on, come on. We haven’t got time for this.”

“Well, I, uh,” the reporter fumbled.

“We left them in the car,” her young cameraman spoke up. He might have been believable if he hadn’t looked to the reporter for approval of his bluff.

“Out you go,” Jenny ordered them.

The reporter took a step back from the desk, setting her face in a look of stubborn determination. “Look, we just want a few pictures of the event. There’s no need to get all snooty with us.”

She spoke to Jenny, but also looked over Jenny’s shoulder. Jenny twisted to find Yvonne striding toward the scene, a curious look on her perfectly made-up face.

Jenny ignored her and said to the reporter, “Is it snooty to protect the privacy of a home full of the elderly when they just want to enjoy a party? Would you barge in to your grandma’s house with camera’s blazing and call your grandpa snooty for telling you to stop?”

“It’s not like that,” the reporter tried to protest.

“Oh yes it is, babe,” Jenny rounded on her. “Hollywood or no Hollywood, the lives of the people who live here are none of your business. And I believe this is private property as well.”

“We were invited.”

“So I’ll give you ten seconds to turn your bony little behind around and get out of here before I call security,” Jenny finished without breaking stride.

“You can’t—”

“I’ve already got security on the line,” Yvonne piped in, phone to her ear, then turned toward her call and said, “Hi, Duke? You’re needed at the front desk.”

“Fine,” the reporter said. She nodded to the cameraman, and the two of them beat a quick retreat out the front door.

A wicked sense of satisfaction pulsed through Jenny. She crossed her arms and grinned as she watched the unholy duo disappear out into the sunny afternoon.

Yvonne lowered her arm and stowed her phone back in her pocket, striding over to join Jenny.

“Oh, that was good, honey. Very good,” she said.

Jenny blinked at her. “You weren’t calling security?”

Yvonne shrugged. “I could have, but they didn’t look like the sort with enough backbone to need it.”

Jenny’s lips twitched to a grin. “Why Yvonne, you old bulldog, you.”

“I may be an old dog,” Yvonne replied, “but I can still learn a few tricks. Teach them too.” She arched a brow at Jenny.

Something about that look made Jenny want to laugh and preen at the same time. “Yeah, well, no one messes with me.”