Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
JENNY
THREE YEARS LATER
As the train slows into the station, I catch a fleeting glimpse of my own reflection in the window…sleek hair framing my face, lips painted in a muted rose, and clothes that practically announce Paris. I tug at the collar of my leather jacket, feeling the softness of the designer material beneath my fingers, grounding myself. I’ve come back a different woman, one who knows her way around a high-fashion studio and the vibrant streets of the Champs-élysées. Yet here I am, heart pounding, as if I’m still sixteen, about to step into a world that’s seen me only as the tomboy daughter of the chauffeur.
I scan the crowd for my father. He promised to be here on time, ready to see the version of me that Paris has polished and refined. But there’s no familiar face in sight. I tap my foot impatiently, the strappy heels clinking softly on the polished floor, hoping to spot him any second.
My phone buzzes, and a message from him lights up the screen: Stuck in traffic, love. Just wait a few minutes, and I’ll be there .
With a sigh, I slip my phone back into my jacket pocket and look around for a place to sit. Just then, my eyes land on something even more familiar than my father…a cherry-red sports car parked at the curb. My heart stutters. Brett’s car? The same one I almost… I push the thought away, a cocktail of nostalgia and dread tightening in my chest.
The last time I saw that car; it had been a symbol of my own foolishness and despair. But now, I’m back, and I’m not the girl who would sit in the shadows hoping for a glimpse of Brett. I’m here with my own ambitions, my own purpose. Modeling isn’t just a whim anymore; it’s something I want, something I can build on. Maybe, if I’m lucky, it could even give me a way into the Jackson world…but on my terms.
I take a deep breath and steel myself, but my pulse quickens all the same when I do see him. I’m in shock. What are the freaking odds? And once again, I cannot pull my eyes away.
Brett, standing by the hood of his car, casual as ever, exuding that effortless charm. He’s laughing, his arm slung over the shoulder of a woman stepping out of the passenger side, her laughter mixing with his as if they share a secret I’ll never know. And just like that, the years between then and now slip away, and I’m back to being that girl up in the tree, watching him from a distance.
I'm frozen in place as he kisses her on the mouth, and then she walks away as though she owns the entire world. I cannot believe the grief and rage that fill me up. It starts slow, as envy, and then I’m irritated and furious all at once. I thought I had changed. I thought I was better. I thought I would feel better.
I think of what to do now. Ignore him altogether and wait for my dad or…
In an instant, I’m up on my feet and hurrying out of the arrivals hall. I look gorgeous, even more beautiful than the bimbo he was with. I really want to see if he ignores me. And so, I stare directly at him as I stroll over with my luggage, and of course, he notices. He’s just about to return to the driver’s side when he stops.
I walk past, but a few seconds later, the blare of a car horn jolts me out of my thoughts. I freeze, my heart hammering as I turn around to see Brett leaning out of the driver’s seat, a playful smirk lighting up his face. “Hey! Need a ride somewhere, gorgeous?”
The word gorgeous hangs in the air, and for a moment, I can’t move, can barely think. He doesn’t recognize me. But I let him look anyway, let him really see me, hoping he’ll realize who I am. His eyes roam over me, clearly intrigued, and I feel a thrill of satisfaction as his gaze lingers a little longer than it should.
I step closer, my heels clicking on the pavement as I approach him. The thrill is mixed with a strange, heady confusion. I’m right in front of him, and he doesn’t know it’s me. The thought is intoxicating, exhilarating even, as I watch him try to place my face. And I have to admit as well, annoying. It dawns on me now, more than ever, that I truly meant nothing to him.
There’s no risk in going with him, so I put my luggage in and get in, and as always, he is the perfect gentleman, helping me all the way through.
“So,” he drawls, leaning back in his seat, his smirk widening. “What’s your name?”
My heart skips a beat, a mix of surprise and nerves bubbling up. For a moment, I wonder if I should tell him who I am, let him figure it out himself, or let him keep guessing. I hold his gaze, savoring the moment before finally saying, “Jenny.”
“Jenny…” he murmurs, letting the name roll off his tongue as if trying it on for size. He squints, a flicker of confusion flashing across his face. “You know, I used to know a Jenny.” His voice is softer now, as if he’s remembering something distant, something half-forgotten.
“Oh?” I ask, keeping my voice light. “And who was she to you?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just looks at me with a sort of quiet intensity that makes my heart beat faster. For a second, it feels like he’s about to say something important, something that might finally make me understand what I meant to him—or if I ever meant anything at all. But instead, he just shrugs, breaking the moment.
“So,” he says, clearing his throat, “where to?”
The question pulls me back to the present. I hesitate, feeling the weight of what I’m about to say.
“Home,” I finally answer, giving him my father’s address.
He nods, turning to start the car, but then stops, his hand hovering over the gear shift. I watch as the familiarity of the address sinks in, his brows drawing together in surprise. “Wait… home?” He looks back at me, realization dawning on his face. “That’s my home.”
I nod, watching as shock turns to recognition, his eyes widening as he finally sees me. There’s a beat of silence, heavy and electric, and then he leans back in his seat, studying me with a mixture of disbelief and wonder.
“Jenny…” he says it again, softer this time, like he’s seeing me for the first time.
I hate him but I can’t help my smile at the shock on his face.
“Jenny? Holy shit! Jenny!”
Brett’s jaw goes slack as he takes in my face, the disbelief flickering over his features like he’s struggling to reconcile the girl he remembers with the woman sitting beside him now. I watch him, waiting, letting him feel the impact of who I am now…no longer the kid he knew but someone with her own life, her own purpose. He shifts, his gaze dipping down to my heels, then back up to my jacket, and finally resting on my eyes.
“Jenny?” he repeats, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if saying it louder might break the spell. He lets out a low laugh, shaking his head in stunned disbelief. “Wow… unbelievable.” For a moment, the years seem to melt away, and all the resentment, the foolishness, the hope I carried for so long…everything just dissolves as he leans over, pulling me into a tight, almost desperate hug. I let myself sink into it, feeling the warmth of his arms, the solid strength of him surrounding me. This is what I had dreamed about in quiet moments, what I thought would make everything I felt back then worth it.
But there’s something new now, something thrilling and bittersweet, knowing he’s seeing me differently. When he finally pulls back, his hands still rest on my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length as he studies me with something close to awe.
“Our Jenny. Look at you,” he murmurs, and there’s an unmistakable admiration in his eyes, a spark that wasn’t there before. “What happened?”
I manage a nonchalant shrug, trying to play it cool despite the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “Paris,” I say, brushing it off like it’s no big deal.
He chuckles, shaking his head as if he still can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. “Didn’t think you’d come back like… this. And no, it’s not just Paris. Time happened to you as well. You’re gorgeous!” His eyes linger on me, warm and unguarded, making my pulse quicken. “So… what have you been up to? Tell me all about your experience. It must have been amazing?”
“It was,” I say, my voice steady as I lean back into the seat, crossing one leg over the other casually. “I actually loved it more than I expected. Got into modeling. Worked with some small agencies, went on a few shoots, met some… interesting people.” I let the word linger, watching him react. “Turns out, I might just be good at it.”
“Modeling, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, a glint of intrigue sparking in his gaze. “I never thought our Jenny would end up… walking runways.”
I laugh softly, leaning in just enough so he catches the subtle fragrance of my perfume. “Well,” I say with a teasing smile, “I’m not your little Jenny anymore, am I?”
His laugh is nervous, his gaze flicking to my lips before shifting back to my eyes. “Guess not. You’re all grown up.” His voice has a rough edge, and I savor the thrill that races through me, the realization that he’s seeing me not as the kid who used to chase after him but as someone new, someone captivating.
Silence settles between us, thick with possibilities and unspoken questions. The car begins to move, the quiet hum of the engine filling the space between us. I glance out the window, watching the familiar streets pass by, trying to ground myself, to keep my heart steady.
Brett breaks the silence first. “So, what was it like… Paris?” He glances sideways, a hint of curiosity, maybe even jealousy, in his eyes.
“Vibrant. Alive,” I reply, my voice soft, almost dreamy. “The city just pulls you in. I spent so many days walking those streets, getting lost and finding myself in ways I never imagined.” I look over at him, a sly smile playing on my lips. “And the boys… they’re different there. More… attentive, in some ways.” I let the words linger, watching the faint flicker of surprise on his face.
“Attentive, huh?” He echoes, trying to sound nonchalant, but I can see the tension in his jaw. “So, you… met a lot of guys?”
I laugh, the sound light and airy, enjoying the way his eyes narrow slightly. “Turns out,” I say, leaning back with a grin, “most guys my age don’t really know what to do with a woman. At least, not in the way I’d like.”
He shifts in his seat, his gaze turning more intense, almost guarded. “Wow. You really have changed. Never thought I’d hear these words coming out of your mouth.”
This moment turns awkward, but I don’t allow it to stop me from making my point. “Paris does that to you,” I reply, letting the words hang in the air. The tension between us is thick, almost electric, and I can tell he’s struggling to reconcile this new version of me with the memories he has. He wants to keep the image of that girl he once knew, but now he’s faced with a woman who won’t let herself be seen that way anymore.
The city fades behind us, replaced by sprawling fields and winding roads as we approach the Jackson estate. When we finally pull up to the grand gates, he parks the car, but he doesn’t immediately get out. Instead, he turns to me, his gaze soft, yet filled with something new…something almost hesitant.
“I’m really happy you’re back today because we’re having a party tomorrow, and guess who’s now going to be the special guest of honor?”
This makes me smile.
“What was the party for?” I ask.
“No reason, just because…you know how I am. But now we definitely have a reason,” he says with a playful grin. “I can’t wait for everyone to see the new, stunning Jenny. Not the little sister who used to follow me around. My circle of friends knows you; you know. I used to say I have two brothers, you and Zack. They’ll be thrilled to see you again.”
I raise an eyebrow, refusing to let him get too comfortable with that old narrative. “I’m not your brother, Brett, or your sister.”
He laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, not my brother or sister. My… hot model friend, then?”
His words send a shiver down my spine, but I keep my composure, my voice steady. “Not your friend either.”
He pauses, his gaze holding mine, a question lingering there. “Then… what are you?”
I lean in, letting my perfume drift between us, feeling the thrill of having his attention, of watching him question what he thought he knew.
“You’re being… flirty,” he says with a teasing smile. “You’ve never been flirty before.”
I shrug, smirk widening. “Maybe I have been, but you just didn’t notice?”
His eyes twinkle as they lower down to my cleavage and then back up to my face. “Maybe.”
Blushing, I lean away and push the door open. “I’ll be at the party. Can’t wait to see you.”
“Can’t wait to see you too,” he says.
With a final glance, I step out of the car, my heels clicking against the gravel as I make my way toward the grand doors of the estate. I can feel his eyes on me, watching every step, his fascination thick in the air between us. As soon as I’m inside, closing the door behind me, I lean back, letting the thrill of it all wash over me.
For the first time, he’s really seen me. And this… this is only the beginning.