Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,154

they’d climbed on board the jet and she was still looking out the window, he said, “I meant that, you know. If you need to come visit, say the word.”

She nodded, gulped, and grabbed at her napkin to dry the tears that were leaking out. “I know it’s silly. And you’re not responsible for me, or for getting me back here, whatever Grandpa said. It’s just … I’ve always lived here, you know? I’ve always been with him, and when my mom … and now she … and he’s …”

“Hey.” He wanted to hold her, but they were taxiing, so he had to settle for taking her hand. “Hey, now. I know.”

She tried to laugh. “Of course you do. What am I saying? Your mom … how much worse is that? How hard is it feeling like you can’t go back?”

“I don’t think it’s a contest,” he said. “It’s all pain, and pain hurts.”

Now, she was clearly thinking about pain, because she was looking at him in that squinty-eyed way that always made him want to laugh and saying, “When you say, ‘Go for a walk,’ do you mean, go for a walk, or do some extreme activity that I’m going to hate? I’m pregnant, you know. I’m fragile. Well, not fragile. Maybe I’d like to be fragile, though, at least in your mind.”

Whoa. That had come dangerously close to asking for something. Asking him to treat her like she was special, like she was precious, at least he thought that was it. He was going with that.

“I mean,” he said, “we go for a walk at the Japanese Garden, just because it’s peaceful, and I hold your hand, and then maybe we head down to 23rd Avenue so we can look in store windows and you can tell me that some dress is pretty, or that you love rose-scented bath products, which means we have to go inside and check them out. There’s a Lush store down there that women seem to like, and some clothes stores, too. Levi’s store, I know that, because I’ve shopped in that one, but I think we can do better for you. There are also all kinds of restaurants, which means we could go out to dinner afterwards, celebrate you getting here, and let these two order a pizza and use the theater and make a mess.”

“Harlan,” Annabelle protested, “we’re not nine. We’re not going to make a mess.”

“You’re killing my casual, spontaneous vibe,” he told her. “Stop it.”

“Mom’s not going to let you buy her clothes,” Dyma said. “Do you know her at all?”

“That can’t be your idea of a fun time,” Jennifer said. A pretty weak effort, if you asked him.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “I want you to like it here, and if it makes you happy, you bet it’s going to be a fun time for me. Also, I’m going to be hungry soon, and so are you. So come on.” He tugged her up by the hand. “We’re supposed to be dating. That was the agreement. So let’s go have a date.”

48

Exactly That Edgy

Jennifer walked into the reception area of Blake’s headquarters and tried to calm her racing heart.

You’ve been here before, she reminded herself. And it’s just Blake, not some terrifying tech company full of people who went to Harvard.

She was wrong about that, and she knew it. There weren’t just Harvard graduates here, there were Harvard MBAs.

You’re going to be an assistant. You know how to assist. That was the next reminder. That one helped. A little.

“Hi,” she told the young woman at the sleek reception desk, which was made of some kind of exotic wood she didn’t recognize, each piece a gold and brown swirl of complicated wood grain. The receptionist was new, maybe, because she hadn’t met her. A Portland version of chic, with silver-blue hair almost as short as Dyma’s, a tiny stud in one nostril, and a henna-type tattoo on her inner forearm. “Jennifer Cardello, here to see Blake. I’m new,” she added with a smile. “A little nervous, too. First day at this location.”

“Kristen,” the woman said. “Hang on. I’ll get him for you. Wicked necklace, by the way.”

“Oh. Thanks.” It was too much. She’d told Harlan it was too much. She rarely wore jewelry, and not just because she didn’t have much. Because she didn’t call attention to herself like that.

She didn’t sit down to wait. She was too nervous. And when Blake said, “Well, hi. Early, huh,” from