42. Jenna
JENNA
“ W hat is this calendar invite?”
Hannah looks over at my computer screen. “Giiirl, you have a meeting with the CEO of the company?”
“That doesn’t mean I’m getting fired, right?” I’m nervous. “Like, the CEO doesn’t show up to fire a junior account associate?”
“Maybe they heard that you’re going to be the next Mrs. Svensson and want to get on your good side.” Hannah waggles her eyebrows. “You know it’s true. Based off of what McCarthy said yesterday? His light is on, and he’s ready for matrimony.”
“I can hardly believe it, but…” I show her the text message on my phone with the luxurious photos. “He wanted to know if I wanted to get married on his brother’s private island.” I look around, hoping that neither Bethany nor any of her minions is listening.
“That means he’s serious, right? Like, I’m not crazy here? I can’t have him be another ex-fiancé. I’m almost thirty. I can’t afford to play around.”
“Have you met his family?”
“Uh, I mean, yeah, sort of…”
“There you go.” Hannah slaps the table.
“You think?” I can’t help the hope in my voice.
“He’s basically your dog’s stepfather, you met the fam, he listens to you, and he gave you a muffin instead of a car because you asked for it, which, you know, you are your mother’s daughter, so that lapse in judgment is to be expected.
The sex is fucking amazing, that tongue can do more than drop F-bombs—”
“What if I’m wrong?” I fret. “McCarthy told me that he likes to play with his food before he eats it.”
“Don’t you mean devours it?” She growls and swipes at me.
“Hannah!”
My phone rings.
It’s McCarthy. He’d kissed me again in the morning, wearing the same clothes like he’d been up all night, and told me in between kisses that he wanted to spend the whole day with me but had to work.
“ Starbucks muffins aren’t cheap. ”
I can’t help the bloom of warmth in my heart when I see his name.
McCarthy is calling, and he’s calling me because he loves me!
“Screw my dad. Who needs a father-daughter relationship when you have a man like McCarthy? ”
“You’re not going to answer it?” Hannah points.
“I’m talking to you, and I’m not going to turn into that type of girl who just ditches her friends whenever she has a boyfriend.” I wince. “I know I did that a little with Brock, but McCarthy has self-esteem, and he won’t care.”
At least the McCarthy in my head won’t care—the kind one who waited outside of my dad’s, who never said “I told you so,” just heated up leftover pizza and brought me a glass with the good ice for my Diet Coke.
“I need a bridesmaid,” I joke. “And you’re my only friend.”
“You know it! Your wedding’s going to be amazing!
Your mom’s going to complain that it’s too bougie, but don’t worry.
I’ll make sure she doesn’t ruin your big day.
Oh! Raw bar for cocktail hour! All the oysters, lobster, scallops, those little crispy rice things with the spicy tuna on top. And a bonfire.”
“I think I’ll need more bridesmaids.” I chew on my lip. “He has a lot of brothers.”
“Pull some of his sisters in,” Hannah suggests.
“Here.” She hands me my notebook. “Make a list. Oh, I need McCarthy’s contact information.
I’ve made you a new Pinterest board with rings, and he and I need to have a conversation about it, and no, you don’t get to tell him he can propose to you with a plate of calamari or some shit. ”
“I like calamari.”
“Diamonds!” Hannah grabs me. “Rose-gold micro pavé wedding band in a complementary— not matching —pattern.”
Bethany’s office door opens.
“Are you prepared for this meeting?” she demands.
“I, uh… What’s the agenda, exactly?” My voice sounds weak.
“I don’t know.” Bethany’s curt. “We’re meeting with your client.”
“My client?” I stammer, jumping out of my chair, undocking my laptop, scooping up my papers and notebooks, and racing after her.
“I’m sorry, uhhh… Which client exactly?”
Bethany looks down her thin, plastic surgery-perfect nose at me, sniffs, then presses the button for the executive floor.
I’ve never ever been up to the executive suite. It’s quiet and smells like a West Elm. The seats in the conference room are a cream calfskin leather. I’m wearing a denim skirt.
“I’ll just sit in the corner,” I say, taking a spot at one of the benches along the wall.
The CEO and the VPs ignore me when they enter the room, chatting to Bethany, asking after her pregnancy and the babymoon she and Stu took to Anguilla.
McCarthy’s late, if he’s even going to show up at all.
I glance out the window that overlooks Seattle. The afternoon sun breaks up the cloud cover. The HopeWorks Foundation ball is tonight. I have a date lined up for McCarthy.
There’s a knot in my stomach.
A date for McCarthy.
I’m a big girl with a big-girl job, I remind myself. I can’t show up to the charity ball as McCarthy’s date. That would be career suicide. I can handle him spending two hours with another woman. Despite what Hannah says, I am not my mother. For one, I could never have her waist size.
Or at least I could handle it if I weren’t head over heels in love with him, I realize when I see him walking into the conference room twenty minutes late .
We can cry in the bathroom stall later, I assure myself, my eyes pricking when I think about another woman on his arm tonight.
“My apologies,” he says as he sits down without shaking anyone’s hand. “Got caught up in another meeting. We’ll make this quick, though. There’s an event tonight, I believe, that I’m required to attend.” He glances back and sees me in the corner and winks at me.
It’s not his dirty wink. It’s his “I’m about to fuck shit up” wink.
I grip my notepad as he continues.
“I just want to express how pleased I am with the services your firm has provided.” McCarthy’s voice is pleasant. “And I came here to personally tell you that and…” He pauses for dramatic effect. “To discuss extending my contract, not just for me but for my company.”
The CEO and the VPs make appreciative noises.
“That’s Bethany’s department. We’ll miss her on maternity leave.”
“Indeed. I’m sure Jenna can fill her shoes temporarily. She’s done wonders for me. Don’t you agree, Bethany?”
My supervisor’s nostrils are flared, white rings appearing where they crease. “Jenna is not quite experienced enough to handle the RDC contract, so we will assign a full team to your company immediately and hit the ground running,” Bethany says tersely.
“No, thank you. I prefer Jenna. She’s been…” There’s another conspiratorial glance back to me. “Insightful.”
“I’m sure we can have Jenna run a team, right, Bethany?” The VP laughs heartily. “We want to keep Mr. Svensson happy. ”
“I’m sure Jenna’s been keeping you happy.” Bethany spits the words. “Considering she’s sleeping with him.”
The CEO looks like he wants to die.
The VP of finance is already counting McCarthy’s money and steps in to salvage the situation. “Not a problem. I, myself, left my wife for one of the receptionists at my previous place of employment,” the VP assures McCarthy.
“You did?” The CEO seems horrified.
“Guilty as charged.”
McCarthy smirks. “Is that going to be a problem for Prism if I’m sleeping with one of your employees? If so, I can go elsewhere.”
“Absolutely not.” The VP is firm.
“I knew it!” Bethany shrieks, pointing at me. “I knew you were there that night in his penthouse, trying to pretend like that revolting little dog wasn’t yours.”
McCarthy readies the bomb. “You’re pregnant, so you’re probably just horny and getting off on thinking about a guy hotter and richer than your husband fucking your subordinate.”
The words hang in the air.
The company owner’s eyes bug out.
I can’t even swallow. I want to crawl under the table.
“I take it from the silence that no one else has anything to say? Looks like the meeting is over.” McCarthy stands up. “I’ll let this well-dressed ankle bracelet show me out.”
“What the hell was that?” I hiss out in the hallway.
McCarthy shrugs. “You want to keep your job. I want to keep you happy. Therefore, I secured your job. You don’t have anything to worry about now, plus I made your supervisor look like a moron. You’re welcome.”
“Bad, bad, bad. ”
The red flags are popping up out of the ground like daisies, and the fairy-tale-obsessed part of me is dancing around in a field ,collecting them in a bouquet.
“No.” His hands circle my waist. “Good.” He kisses me hard. “This means I don’t have to listen to you complain that you’re going to lose your job when I want you to stay over.”
The VP passes us, giving us a cheery wave. “See you at the HopeWorks event!”
“Oh my god.” I groan. “The charity ball. I have a girlfriend lined up for you… It’s fine. It’s going to be fine…”
“I’m not going with another woman.” His face darkens.
“Fine. We’ll—I don’t know. We can’t arrive together.” I run a hand through my tangled hair. “We’ll pivot. You can… You can go with a sibling. Everyone likes fun sibling content. It makes you seem relatable and human.”
“We can just go together,” he says, his voice honed to a cold edge all of a sudden.
“That’s why we had this meeting. Your company is okay with it.
Now, come home. One of the local boutiques is bringing dresses over for you to pick out.
Don’t worry. I won’t let you keep it on long, so you don’t have to consider it a fancy gift. ”