Expectations

by Brenda Novak

  “Are you taking me home?” she asked, squinting against the afternoon sun as they walked outside.

  He grinned. “That depends on whether you mean my home or yours. Harvey is expecting you at four-thirty.”

  “Oh, that’s great! But how are we going to take my windows? There’s no room in your car.”

  “I brought some special packaging and my bike rack.” Adam popped the trunk. “We’re going to have to tie them on the back.”

  Jenna unloaded her windows from the van and protected them with more bubble wrap while Adam mounted the bike rack on his trunk. After tying the well-padded windows in place, they climbed into the car.

  Adam started the engine and shifted into reverse. Then he jammed the gear back into park and looked at Jenna. “You still want to drive this thing?” he asked. And the smile that spread over her face gave him all the answer he needed.

  JENNA FOUND NOTHING as exhilarating as speed—except perhaps sitting next to Adam in the confined space of his two-seater car with the CD player pumping out Phantom of the Opera’s “Magic of the Night.” After passing a slow-moving sedan, she punched the accelerator again, maneuvering the Mercedes back into the fast lane, and couldn’t help smiling at the way the sleek little sports car sped along the freeway.

  Catching an inquiring glance from Adam, she turned the music down. “What?” she asked, hearing the self-conscious note in her voice.

  “Cops don’t like people to enjoy themselves quite this much,” he said wryly.

  For some reason Jenna felt younger than she had in years—especially since she’d refused to acknowledge all the logic and fear that had initially convinced her not to see Adam when she came to San Francisco. Necessity had dictated she call him. No use analyzing it, or second-guessing it, or ruining the fun by thinking this was a mistake.

  She frowned. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown conservative in your old age, Mr. Defense Lawyer.”

  Adam opened the glove compartment and showed her a handful of speeding tickets. “Merely speaking from experience.”

  She laughed. “I haven’t been pulled over since we were teenagers. I can’t believe you haven’t lost your license.”

  “There are benefits to being able to defend yourself.” He stuffed the crumpled citations back into the glove box and nodded at the speedometer as she changed into the middle lane to pass another car. “You’re going to prove me a bad influence by getting a ticket today if you don’t slow down.”

  Reining in her recklessness, Jenna eased off the gas. What had gotten into her? Her van had just broken down, leaving her without a vehicle and at least a couple of hundred dollars poorer. She’d already missed her big appointment, yet all she wanted to do was laugh and speed and enjoy being with her old boyfriend. Almost as though they’d never been apart…

  Jenna couldn’t help smiling at Adam. She let her hand brush his thigh as she reached for the CD player. “Thanks for coming to my rescue,” she said. “I’m sure you had other things to do today.”

  “Nothing I’d rather do.” His car phone rang and he flipped the mouthpiece open. “Adam Durham…Oh, hi, Joan. No, I won’t be back today. I’m afraid Mike’s just going to have to wait until tomorrow, like I told him…Sounds good…No, not that early.” He glanced at Jenna, then twisted toward the window, his voice dropping perceptibly. “I might be busy in the morning. Let’s do it later, after one…Sure…Okay, bye.”

  Jenna stiffened. “You might be busy in the morning? Like with appointments or something?”

  He shrugged and looked sheepish. “You have to stay somewhere. I thought I’d save you the hotel expense by letting you sleep on my couch. Or in my bed. It’s up to you. In any case I was planning to make you breakfast and give you a proper send-off.”

  “Your bed?” Jenna let her breath go in a rush. “I don’t remember you being so direct.”

  His eyes searched her face, as though he was trying to gauge her reaction. “There’s never been so much water under the bridge before. But don’t worry, Jen, I’m not some kind of pervert. If you want me, you’re going to have to say so.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him, thinking she was safe then, because she’d never admit how badly she wanted him. “And if I take the couch?”

  “I won’t touch you.”

  “Just laying down some ground rules?”

  “I’m saying you can stay tonight and enjoy San Francisco with nothing to worry about.”

  The sense of freedom Jenna had felt since they’d left Santa Rosa climbed even higher. “So, for instance, if I took a shower and left the door open, you wouldn’t look?”

  He assumed a supremely confident air. “Not even a peek.”

  “And if I forgot my towel and you had to bring me one?”

  “I’d close my eyes.”

  “And if I wore a transparent negligee to my bed on the couch?”

  He grinned. “Wow, you’re really making this difficult. Let’s see…I’d avert my eyes and treat you like a sister.”

  Jenna pursed her lips, considering. “So if I stayed at your place, nothing would tempt you to touch me?”

  “Only an invitation.”

  “Do you know how unlikely you are to receive one of those?”

  She caught the crooked smile he gave her, and its power was almost enough to melt her resistance on the spot. “I can always hope.”

  Her stomach did a little flip-flop and her mouth went dry. “Good thing I’m in no danger.”

  The scenery outside changed from the low-lying shrubs, trees and houses of the rolling northern hills to the skyscrapers of San Francisco, and the Golden Gate Bridge rose before them, a giant entrance to the city.

  “Wow, it’s been years since I’ve seen the bay,” Jenna said, hearing their tires thrum as they crossed the bridge. Yellow, red and blue sailboats dotted the water, and Alcatraz appeared, looking more like a mystical treasure-filled island than an old prison. “I’d almost forgotten how beautiful it is.”

  “There’s no place quite like San Francisco,” Adam said as she stopped at the tollbooth.

  Almost hating the wistful note in his voice because it reflected the strength of the city’s hold on him, Jenna stole another glance at his face. “I can understand why you like it.”

  He changed the CD to Les Misérables, another of Jenna’s favorites, then asked casually, “You don’t think you’d like it here?”

  She shrugged, not willing to fully consider the question. Whether she’d like San Francisco or not was a moot point. She’d promised Ryan and herself that they’d stay in Mendocino, and she planned to keep that promise. “I don’t know. Maybe I would. Where to?”

  “Why don’t we go to the pier? The weather’s nice, so it might be fun to eat on the water. And they have a lot of seafood down there.”

  Jenna thought of the car-repair bill she’d face tomorrow, but she didn’t want to be her practical self today. “Crab legs sound great.”

  Following Adam’s directions, she wound through the crowded city streets and eventually angled the Mercedes into a parking garage across from Pier 39. She handed him the keys, which he pocketed, and they got out. “Thanks for letting me drive.”

  He grinned and came around the car. “What are friends for?”

  For sharing their couches, evidently. He took her hand as they walked, motioning to this store or that pier. Street performers played bongo drums, did break dancing or crooned a ballad to the accompaniment of a guitar as they passed. Occasionally Adam tossed a bill into a collection hat. Jenna watched him applaud the buskers and tease the children and, not for the first time, realized what a charismatic man he was. No wonder she hadn’t been able to forget him.

  “Having fun?” he asked as they stepped into the cool dark interior of a seafood restaurant that jutted out over the water.

  She nodded, wishing the day could go on forever. She didn’t feel like a pregnant mother who’d just survived a painful divorce. She felt giddy and young and almost in love again.


  Quickly snatching back that thought, Jenna told herself she had some unresolved feelings for Adam, nothing more, and moved to inspect an aquarium that held fifty or more live lobsters.

  “Seeing them this way is enough to make you lose your appetite, isn’t it?” Adam asked from behind her.

  “Have you ever bought live lobsters and cooked them at home?”

  Obviously he didn’t understand the meaning of a shoestring budget. The only way she and Dennis could have afforded lobster was if it had come in a box of macaroni and cheese. “I’m not much of a shellfish eater. I’ve tried crab legs a couple of times, but I’ve never tasted lobster.”

  “Are you kidding? Gram and Pop serve shellfish at the restaurant all the time.”

  Jenna shrugged. “I try not to eat the more expensive items. Your grandparents have been so good to me I don’t want to take advantage.”

  A look Jenna couldn’t identify crossed Adam’s face, but the hostess arrived just then to show them to their seats, so she turned away.

  “There’s nothing better than lobster if it’s cooked right,” he said as they followed the hostess to a table by a large picture window. “I bought some not long ago and cooked them myself, but they came out rubbery.”

  That conjured up a vision of Adam trying to create a romantic candlelit dinner for some special lady. “Do you think you’ll ever marry, Adam?” she asked as she took the seat opposite him.

  “Is that a delicate way of telling me I’m getting too old for the singles scene?” He ran a hand through his hair and grinned. “Should I catch a woman before I go bald or something?”

  Jenna wished she could touch the glossy locks that fell across his forehead. “No, I just can’t see you playing the field forever. You like children too much.”

  He handed her one of the menus the hostess had left. “I guess I’ve just been waiting for the right time.”

  “Not the right girl?”

  “That, too. Should we order the lobster?”

  “You’re trying to change the subject. But your personal life isn’t any of my business, so I’ll shut up and look at the menu.”

  Silence fell as they both hid behind heavy booklike menus, then Adam asked, “What about you?”

  “I’ll stick with the crab legs.” Jenna was afraid to learn what “market price” was, but she knew Adam would question her if she played it safe and ordered the chicken.

  “I meant, do you think you’ll ever remarry?”

  Jenna set her menu aside and gazed out the window at a string of bobbing vessels tied to the pier and a colony of seals, farther off, sunning themselves on a fenced-off portion of the jetty. “I hope so. Someday.”

  “But not for a while?”

  She patted her stomach. “Can you imagine anyone wanting to take this on?”

  “What about the baby’s father?”

  “What about him?”

  “Do you think you’ll ever see him again?”

  Jenna shifted uncomfortably at Adam’s reminder of her falsehood. “There are times when I hope not.”

  “And other times?”

  “It’s unavoidable.”

  Adam’s cheek twitched. “So he lives in Mendocino? Where does he work? Where did you meet him?”

  Oh, what a tangled web we weave… Jenna sighed. “I’m sorry, I really don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Just tell me one thing. Have you told him about the baby?”

  “No.”

  “Are you going to?”

  “At some point I’ll probably have to.”

  “Why? I mean, why complicate things?”

  Jenna blinked at him in surprise. “Don’t you think he has a right to know?”

  “No. I don’t think he has any rights at all. I could break his face for even looking at you.”

  “What?” Jenna laughed, realizing Adam was jealous of a fantasy man. As she considered telling him the truth, in spite of how pathetic it would make her seem, the waitress approached, and Jenna decided to put her worries aside for the moment.

  “What can I get you?” the waitress asked.

  “Two live Maine lobsters.” Adam returned the menus to the waitress and frowned at Jenna as if daring her to contradict him.

  Because she really had wanted to try the lobster but knew the price would be even higher than the crab, she held her tongue.

  The waitress left and Adam gazed at Jenna, looking uncharacteristically angry.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Why won’t you tell me anything about him? Do you still have feelings for him?”

  “Who?”

  “The baby’s father!”

  Jenna dropped her head in her hands and groaned. “No feelings, at least not the kind you think, but grilling me like this isn’t fair. I’m sure you haven’t lived a celibate life since we broke up.”

  He opened his mouth as if he’d like to deny any sexual encounters or justify them in some way, then pressed his lips together again. “You’re right. I just can’t imagine anyone making you lose control like that. It’s driving me crazy to think another man could make you forget everything, even birth control, especially when you won’t let me get close.”

  “Adam—”

  Adam’s cell phone chirped, and Jenna waited for him to answer it. He spoke to someone who sounded like a client, then set the phone on the table. By the time he turned his attention back to her, he was in control again. “I’m sorry. I was way out of line.”

  Jenna nodded. “No problem.”

  “You’re still safe on the couch.”

  “I know.”

  Her answer seemed to bother him as much as their earlier conversation about the baby’s father had, but their salads arrived just then, distracting them both.

  While they ate, Adam turned into the charming man who had entertained her earlier, and soon Jenna was laughing and talking again. But the lobster, when it came, looked a little daunting. She’d expected the fluffy white tail she’d seen at the Victoriana’s own restaurant, not the entire creature, eyes, antennas, claws and all.

  Adam laughed at her hesitancy to touch it. “I’ll show you how to eat it. Trust me, you’ll love this.”

  Using a metal cracker, he broke through the hard shell. When he’d made a small pile of white meat on one side of her plate, and a big pile of red shell on the other, he pushed a bowl of melted butter toward her. “Now you’re all set.”

  Jenna stared at the black eyes that seemed to gaze back at her from the top of the shell pile and wondered who first thought of eating these creatures. The sight of them didn’t exactly inspire thoughts of dinner.

  She realized Adam was waiting for her reaction, so she took her first bite. The salty butter combined with the sweet tender meat nearly melted in her mouth. No wonder people paid such high prices for lobster.

  “Good, huh?” Adam seemed more eager to watch her enjoy her meal than to eat his own.

  She felt her smile grow. “You’d better hurry or I’ll eat yours, too.”

  He laughed. “I knew you’d like it.”

  When the bill was presented, Jenna tried to snare it, but the waitress left it on Adam’s side of the table and he grabbed it first. “Let me take you out, Jen, for old times’ sake.”

  At first Jenna thought she didn’t want to feel she owed Adam anything. But then she decided she was already so deeply indebted—for the ride, Ryan’s bike, his help with Mr. LeCourt and his offer to put her up for the night—that she might as well add this meal to the list. Nodding, she slid from the booth to visit the rest room. “Thanks.” She paused before walking away. “It was wonderful.”

  When she returned, Adam was waiting for her by the door. “Where to now?” she asked.

  “Local Treasures. It’s time to visit Harvey.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  HARVEY LECOURT was on the telephone when the elegantly dressed saleswoman showed Adam and Jenna into a small square room at the back of his shop. It obviously served as part office, part storeroo
m. He smiled and made a welcoming motion with his hand, but was clearly in the middle of something that would take a few minutes to finish.

  Jenna leaned the two framed stained-glass pictures she carried against a green vinyl chair, and Adam did the same.

  Photographs on the walls and desk showed various people standing next to the storefront, shaking Mr. LeCourt’s hand. Evidently Adam’s friend had been in the business for many years, judging by the number of such pictures and his own physical appearance in them. The older photographs showed Harvey LeCourt as a slender young man with a full head of straight dark hair; the more recent showed him as he looked now, just beyond middle age and slightly overweight, with a receding hairline.

  Perching on the edge of the chair, next to her work, Jenna tried not to fidget as they waited. From what she’d seen in the shop, Local Treasures sold a mixture of expensive antiques, paintings from local artists, hand-thrown pottery and weaving. There was also a wall of cameras and video equipment, as well as a counter of jewelry and watches. The eclectic merchandise was tagged with a wide range of prices, most high enough to make Jenna’s eyes widen, but she could see how her work would easily fit in—if Mr. LeCourt liked it well enough to buy it.

  As if reading her mind, or at least her agitation, Adam reached over and squeezed her hand.

  Jenna gave him a brave smile, grateful for his presence. With him—and only with him—she didn’t mind revealing her anxiety; it was a legacy of their former closeness.

  “I’ve got some people in my office, and this is taking longer than I expected. I’ll have to call you back,” Mr. LeCourt said into the phone, and a moment later hung up.

  “Sounds like you’ve been keeping busy,” Adam said.

  “Busy is good. Busy means I’m selling merchandise and making money. Can’t complain.” Standing, Mr. LeCourt came around the desk and shook Adam’s hand. Then Adam introduced him to Jenna.

  “I hadn’t expected the artist to be as beautiful as her work,” he said.

  Jenna smiled, hoping he wouldn’t notice the iciness of her fingers as he took her hand. “Thank you. I appreciate the opportunity to be here.”