by Lacey Legend
Sneaking into her apartment, she had the doors locked and lights out by 7 pm. She settled in bed to study a textbook by the lamp of her bedside table. At 8 pm, the doorbell rang. Startled, she froze, not moving. There was a loud, persistent knocking on the door. Her phone began ringing and Jenna realized a scream was rising in her lungs. She answered her cell phone.
“It’s Spencer. Are you out tonight? I came around to see you in case you wanted company, given you’re home alone.”
Jenna jumped out of bed and ran to the front door. She turned on the lights as she fled through the apartment and opened the door. Flinging her arms around him she held him tight.
“That’s quite a welcome, given I only brought Chinese,” he said, extracting himself from her enthusiastic embrace.
“Why are you here?”
“An attempt to be romantic. Although I doubt that historically, chow mein and fortune cookies will be classed as one of the world’s most romantic gestures.”
“No, but a spontaneous visit comes close.”
“Zada and Rosie are asleep at the town house and while I do love having my family stay, I also miss your company.”
Jenna was touched by his arrival. Spencer had gone to great pains to highlight their different backgrounds and yet again, he’d made the trip to Brooklyn to spend time with her.
An appearance by Leon could cause havoc but Spencer’s masculine presence had Jenna feeling safe and able to relax.
After eating, the couple collapsed on the couch.
“There are no leftovers for your sister. She won’t be happy,” chuckled Spencer in relation to Liana’s insatiable appetite.
“It’ll do her good to skip the junk food,” mused Jenna.
They sat in comfortable silence.
“Is it weird for you?” asked Jenna.
“What?”
“Sitting here in this crummy two-bedroom apartment watching TV on a screen that’s ten years old.”
“First of all, this apartment is cozy and not crummy. It’s a nice living space for a family. Secondly, unless you’re obsessed with gadgets, high definition and extreme sound systems, most TVs are the same, regardless of age.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s weird. It’s a new experience but I like it. It beats going out every night of the week. It becomes monotonous attending a club or function every night. I barely spend time in my apartment other than to sleep.”
“As long as Nanny Merton’s babysitting Zada, we should spend a few nights in your apartment doing this so I can learn to appreciate gadgets, high definition, and extreme sound systems,” hinted Jenna.
The thought of sharing his living space with someone permanently did not appeal to Spencer in the slightest.
“I was talking to Liana about that.”
“Were you?”
“Liana wants a weekend off and thought she’d leave Zada at the townhouse for a few days and nights. She’s planning on treating herself to a little quality time alone to pamper and preen without having to worry about her coursework and assignments. As that frees you of your responsibilities as Aunty, I wondered if you and I might spend the weekend together.”
The idea of hitting the exclusive restaurants and nightclubs in New York and enjoying a weekend in Spencer’s luxury apartment sounded like heaven. There’d be no worrying about Leon getting in touch with her there.
“I’m definitely available for that.”
“Great. I had an idea we might go to Maine for a long weekend. We could head over there after you finish school Friday night and come back Monday morning, or Sunday evening if you can’t change your work hours on Monday.”
“Maine? Really?”
“It’s quite beautiful there, very picturesque. I know a perfect little guesthouse in Portland. It’ll make a nice break from New York City.”
It sounded idealistic and Jenna couldn’t fault the effort Spencer was making. However, part of her felt disconcerted that since the night of their first date at the charity gala dinner with Jenna spending the night at Spencer’s apartment, she hadn’t been welcomed back to his home or invited out publicly with him as his date.
You’re being paranoid, Jenna, she told herself. This whole business with Leon has you on edge. It’s messing with your head. Don’t be a spoiled t brat and don’t let Leon’s threat ruin your time with Spencer.
As keys rattled in the door, Spencer and Jenna unwrapped their limbs to take a formal seated position on the couch. Hannah, Jenna’s mother, walked inside with a huge smile on her face at the sight of Spencer.
“I bet you were hoping I was Liana,” she said directly to Spencer.
Spencer smiled and stood to shake her hand and introduce himself.
“Spencer Lawson. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. King.”
Hannah laughed throatily. “I bet you’re thinking it’s way too early to meet the parents.”
Spencer ran a hand through his brown curls and grinned sheepishly.
“Well, now you’ve met the whole family so there’s no need for you to feel like a guest or that you have to sneak off before we’re due back. I don’t bark and I don’t bite. Treat my girl right and we’ll get along famously.”
“I’ll do that, Mrs. King.”
Hannah set on the recliner and let herself stretch out. “Call me Hannah. You make me sound ancient calling me Mrs. King.”
“My apologies. I was trying to be respectful.”
“Respect is good. Friends and family is better. Do you know how to make coffee, Spencer?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then run to the kitchen and make this exhausted cleaner a cup of white coffee with two sugars.”
Feeling he couldn’t refuse the request, Spencer stood up and took slow steps toward the kitchen. Jenna smiled at his awkwardness. She suddenly recalled that Spencer had a coffee machine in his house that did percolated coffee, cappuccinos and lattes. This was not a piece of kitchen equipment that the Kings possessed. She bolted into the kitchen to Spencer.
“We don’t have your fancy kitchen set up,” she said apologetically.
Spencer looked confused as to how he’d fulfill Hannah’s simple instruction.
“Stop looking stressed. She only expects instant coffee,” giggled Jenna.
Spencer turned on the kettle on and watched Jenna scoop out a teaspoon of instant coffee, two teaspoons of sugar and a dash of milk to a mug. As the kettle whistled, she added the boiling water and gave it a thorough stir. She pushed the drink toward Spencer.
“You’re a computer genius. Making Mom an instant coffee is simple.”
Spencer took the mug and politely gave it to Hannah.
“You’ve been in my kitchen?” quizzed Hannah.
Spencer nodded.
“Good. The kitchen is the heart and soul of our household and you’ve made yourself part of that now.”
Hannah crooked her finger for Spencer to come closer. He bent down toward her and she kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome here any time, Spencer and when you are here, you treat this place like home.”
Moved by the unexpected heart of the woman Spencer was at a loss for words. Fortunately, Liana chose that moment to burst through the door with Zada in tow. “Thanks for lending me the driver, Spencer. He’s waiting downstairs to take you home when you’re ready.”
“I should go,” said Spencer, excusing himself from the female dominated apartment.
“I hope we haven’t scared you off,” called Hannah.
Spencer stopped from escaping quickly out the open door. “Quite the opposite, Hannah,” he winked.
Jenna rolled her eyes at his flirtatious manner. “You’re terrible,” she whispered as they kissed by the door.
Jenna stayed outside until she saw Spencer hop in his usual car and drive off. As she turned around to go in, her cell phone sounded an alert.
“He needs 2 go if we’re going 2 make this work. Fix it or I will,” read Leon’s text.
>
Jenna scanned the lawn and lit area of the corridor to see if she could spot Leon. Her eyes couldn’t detect any shadowy forms. Walking inside, she shuddered as she locked the apartment up for the night.
Chapter 14
She knew it was silly and shallow, but Jenna was filled with glee to see Spencer’s stretch Hummer waiting in the NYU parking lot on Friday afternoon. Yet again, they were headed to JFK airport to take Spencer’s private charter plane to Portland. Boarding the plane, a sense of relief washed over her, knowing there was no way Leon could reach her over the weekend.
The flight was a little over an hour. Disembarking, Jenna saw a silver convertible Aston Martin parked in a hangar. The jangle of metal made her head swivel and she saw Spencer dangling the keys.
“Do I get to drive?”
Spencer laughed uproariously. “Jenna, I’m a modern man, but no. In this case, I’m a traditionalist and I’ll be serving you this weekend. Besides this classic British sports car needs a British man behind the wheel.”
Jenna pulled a face. “It’s just a car.”
“Now, it’s comments like that which demonstrate to me you have no appreciation of this vehicle. There’s no way I’m playing passenger while you drive this beast round Portland like a grandma.”
“You’re being very rude.”
Spencer kissed her briskly. “I’m teasing...but you aren’t going to drive,” he laughed as he slung her suitcase in the boot of the car.
Jenna didn’t put up an indignant feminist argument. If he wanted to play chauffeur, it suited her. Truthfully, she wouldn’t have felt comfortable driving such an expensive car. Her nerves would probably end up causing her to have an accident and given Spencer’s love of motor vehicles, she might not prove to be a popular guest for the weekend if she had a mishap while driving.
Driving through Portland, Jenna was able to appreciate the beauty of the New England region. The scenery was similar to a picture postcard. The Old Port was an authentic working waterfront and Jenna was mesmerized by the boats and fishermen by the wharf. The cobblestoned streets and historic buildings gave the town a sense of something magical where the past and present collided. As Spencer drove toward a historic Victorian house painted blue with white trimmings on the verandah, Jenna realized how romantic the getaway was.
After being greeted by the owners of the inn and shown to their suite, Jenna was finally able to find some words of thanks.
“This place is incredible. I’ve never seen anything like this. Everything is so old, but so pretty.”
“It’s over a hundred years old,” Spencer informed her. “Although I hope the bed isn’t. I don’t want the springs squeaking all weekend.”
Jenna threw a pillow at him. “What’s the plan, then?”
Spencer studied her. It was too easy to fall into the habit of having sex followed by a post coital chat. As hot as the sex was, Spencer found spending time with Jenna rewarding in a different way.
“Do you eat seafood?”
“I do,” confirmed Jenna.
“As this is a seaside town and the collection of restaurants has developed a respected reputation, I would suggest taking you out for dinner to taste something fresh from the sea.”
Jenna suddenly felt insecure about what she'd packed. In Paris, she’d been given the opportunity to shop for a few suitable outfits for their weekend. This time, Spencer had made no such offer and Jenna had been forced to handpick from her limited wardrobe. Freshening up in the bathroom, she had reservations about her dress. The long sleeved blue dress with a scoop neck came just below her knees. The material clung to her petite frame.
As she assessed her reflection, wishing the dress showed off more cleavage and deciding that the long sleeves and sensible length made her look like a schoolteacher, Spencer knocked and entered before she could say she was decent.
“That color suits you,” he said kissing her cheek as he began to brush his teeth. “It’s a good choice. It’ll be cool out tonight; you wouldn’t want to be wearing something skimpy.”
He slicked back his hair and untucked his shirt. Jenna wanted to slap him for being so sexy. He wore white trousers, a blue striped shirt and navy blazer. Looks-wise, she felt inferior beside him, but Spencer had a way of making her feel as if she belonged on his arm.
Portland by night was something special. As Spencer linked hands with Jenna to make sure the cobblestones didn’t have an argument with her high heels, she realized she was becoming less and less self-conscious in his presence.
Spencer chose the restaurant. Jenna wasn’t used to eating out and was in awe of the silver service and décor of the restaurant.
“Do you remember telling me about the obstacles we’d face because of our different backgrounds?” she asked Spencer, mid-meal.
“I do.”
“Has your opinion changed on that at all?”
“Are you worried I’m the kind of man who won’t admit when he’s wrong?”
Jenna laughed. “No. I was just thinking about us and how I feel when I’m with you and wondered how you feel when we’re together.”
“I believe we possibly will face obstacles because of our backgrounds and I stand by that statement, but I don’t believe our backgrounds actually impact on how you and I interact with one another.”
“Can you say that in plain English?”
“I think you and I have the ability to blend in with one another’s lifestyles. I was wary about developing any kind of relationship with your family, but I like the dynamic of your household. I see the value you put on your family ties and it is in line with my feelings about family. Thus, what you call a crummy apartment, I call a home.
You get an emergency text from a patient that needs you and you prioritize that, I invest a lot of my time in charity work. What I’m saying is even though we live and work in different environments, I’m learning that we share the same core values and I suspect we want the same things from life.”
“You hide your generosity and instinct to help people though,” observed Jenna.
“I do. The business world is harsh. The traits we were talking about are often seen as a weakness in my industry. My business is important to me. I can’t afford to have partners and rival firms view me as a weak link. It can be harmful to what I set out to do when I started my company. I employ over a thousand people. If investors and colleagues don’t trust me to operate my business with profit as the overall objective then I put a lot of people’s jobs at risk.”
“I guess when I heard you were a billionaire, I assumed money wasn’t a problem for you – life wasn’t a problem for you.”
“Money isn’t a problem for me, but I have the responsibility of ensuring people are employed to provide for their families and that requires attention and care. As for life not being a problem, you’ve met Rosie. You know there’s no cure. That reality stays with me every day and it’s a problem without a solution.”
“Listening to you speak, I guess we do have a lot in common. Mom, Liana and I juggle jobs and responsibilities to provide for the family and ensure Zada has a good upbringing.”
“And your work?”
“I’ll never make an impact on people the way you do. I’ll never be able to help people or charities on the scale that you can. I can’t create or maintain jobs for people to give them an income and purpose in life. I can’t be a patron to specialist charities, but I do want to contribute to society.”
“Social work is hands on. There’s a lot of emotional labor involved and you will directly change people’s lives. They’ll have a face and a person to thank when their lives improve. Don’t do yourself a disservice because you don’t have billions in the bank account. More people will remember the work you do than the work I’ve done.”
Dinner and dessert finished, the couple began to amble back to the guesthouse.
Spencer was quiet for a time. “You changed my life,” he said boldly into the still of the night.
“How’d you figure
that?”
“I made a decision to put family first and use my company as a means of giving something back to the community. It’s worked well for me because it’s predictable, simple and controllable. Nothing unexpected. It’s safe and secure and stable. In that knowledge, I felt in my spare time I could do as I please and treat people how I wanted to, because I could justify my contribution to society.
I spend all day chancing risks at work, but when it really matters...when it comes down to the real me, alone without my wealth or reputation to fall back on, I tended to present myself as a cardboard cutout, the playboy that won’t settle down. It’s such an easy role and requires very little effort.”
“It’s nice to hear you being honest about yourself.”
“Being with you, understanding you, the decisions you make, your reactions to your family, your commitment to your studies, is a real challenge. Every time I unearth a piece of the real Jenna King, it’s like a part of me comes alive. I wonder what it would be like to throw away my mask and follow my real dreams.
The dreams that aren’t set in stone and may not last or even come true. I watch you chasing your dreams, never knowing if they’ll come to fruition and I admire your bravery. I’d like to give myself that chance to pursue personal happiness, but that would mean adopting an attitude that embraces risk and uncertainty.”
“Did I change your life by inspiring you to pursue personal happiness, or because having me by your side made you realize that I gave you a degree of happiness in your life?”
Spencer pointed toward the driveway ahead of them. “We’re home,” he said huskily, shutting his eyes and closing his mouth on hers.
*
Jenna had never felt closer or more connected to Spencer. The minute they were in their bedroom, her hands were unbuttoning his shirt. Although pale, Spencer’s bare chest was broad and pumped. Reaching the lower buttons of his shirt, she was able to view his rippled torso and flat stomach. Her tiny hands stroked his muscular upper body. As she let them move upward, she pushed his shirt and blazer off. Topless in the dim light of the room, Spencer looked like a Greek Adonis. The moonlight reflected off his partly naked frame.
