Back in His Bed: Boardroom Rivals, Bedroom Fireworks! / Unfinished Business with the Duke / How to Win the Dating War. Heidi Rice
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as “Jack’s ex,” she’d pull her own hair out. And Jack wasn’t exactly correcting them either. Not that she necessarily wanted to spread the word prematurely that she and Jack were seeing each other again, but she figured that trip to the rehearsal room at least took her out of the “ex” category.
“Jack! You’re finally here.” Libby Winston leaned in a little too close as she greeted Jack with air kisses. Wrapping her manicured hand around Jack’s arm, Libby anchored herself to his side. If Jack minded the obvious fawning, he certainly didn’t put a stop to it, and it made Brenna a bit nauseous to watch.
“Libby, you remember Brenna?”
“Of course. Brenna and I actually ran into each other earlier in the Ladies’. You two have certainly got speculation flying, being here together like this.” Libby batted her eyelashes at Jack insipidly.
Oh, please. That had to be the most unsubtle attempt to pry out information she’d ever heard.
“Brenna is running Max’s winery now,” Jack answered smoothly.
“She said you two were business partners?”
I’m standing right here, you know. Of course it wasn’t the first time she’d felt invisible tonight, but coming from Libby it was really grating her nerves.
Jack inclined his head, acknowledging the statement without further response, and Brenna wanted to smack him.
Libby forged ahead. “We missed you at Harry and Susan’s Saturday night.”
“I spent the weekend at the vineyard.”
Libby’s eyebrows moved the millimeter allowed by botox. “You, Jack? Rusticating in wine country? The wonders never cease.”
How much longer would she have to stand here and listen to this?
“There’s a first time for everything.” Jack flashed Libby his ladykiller smile, and Libby practically swooned.
“I trust it won’t be a regular occurrence, then? Weekends in the country?”
“Surely you know me better than that, Libby?”
Libby narrowed her eyes at Brenna, but Brenna held the same smile she’d worn all evening. She wouldn’t give Libby the satisfaction. She, better than anyone, knew Jack’s feelings about wine country.
Libby batted her eyelashes at Jack again before turning to Brenna. “I promised Tom and Margaret I’d round Jack up—” Libby paused and blinked. “Do you know Tom and Margaret, Brenna?”
Of course she didn’t, and she’d bet next season’s Chardonnay Libby knew that. “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”
“That’s a shame. But,” she continued, “I did promise them I’d drag Jack over so they can finalize those plans for the golf tournament. Do you mind, Brenna?”
“Not at all.” Twenty more minutes. That’s it.
“Bren, would you…?” Jack started, but she waved him silent.
“Actually, I think I’ll just get a refill while you all talk business.”
Jack looked at her strangely. “I’ll only be a minute.”
“No problem.”
Libby dragged Jack away before the words were fully out of her mouth. Jack didn’t even play golf. Or did he? He might have picked up the hobby sometime in the last decade.
Draining the last of her soda, she handed the empty glass to a passing waiter and went to find a place to sit. She slid her feet out of Dianne’s shoes and wiggled her toes in relief. The feeling didn’t extend to her mind, though.
Brenna felt as if she was having a flashback to their marriage. Hell, the whole damn night felt like a re-run. The awkward conversations with his friends, being an outsider…They’d go home, fight, and have make-up sex. But the next outing would bring more of the same. She snorted. They’d already had the fight and the make-up sex tonight. The cycle was complete. History repeated itself. She’d given it her best shot and still fallen short.
A high-pitched laugh caught her attention over the music, and she looked over to see Libby Winston’s head thrown back in over-dramatic style as she found whatever Jack was saying to be hilarious. Libby swatted Jack’s arm playfully, then pulled him close to whisper something in his ear. Jack wore a look of mild amusement as Libby practically shoved her breasts in his face.
It was sickening to watch.
She knew she shouldn’t care, but she couldn’t help the feeling coiling in her stomach. Even more, she didn’t like what that might mean for her.
She shouldn’t have come tonight. She’d been right in her first decision not to come, but for all the wrong reasons. She could be the face of Amante Verano, shake hands and network just fine. It was everything else that was horribly wrong.
But the trip wasn’t in vain. She’d made some good business connections. Hell, she’d even met the Mayor. But this event had also brought home the truth she’d been fighting against all along.
At least she’d been reminded before she got in too deep this time. She and Jack were from different worlds—Libby Winston had just driven that point home for her—and getting involved with him again wouldn’t end any better this time.
Something was bothering Brenna. On the surface she seemed fine, smiling and chatting with some of the biggest names in the community. He’d had many compliments on the wine, and he hoped Brenna was taking advantage of the opportunity to network.
Even though she smiled and nodded and charmed who she could, he could tell something wasn’t right. Tension hummed under everything she said to him, and he could see the uncomfortable set to her shoulders. Even her smile had lost its sparkle.
She slid into the limo with an audible sigh of relief. “Thank God that’s over.”
Why was she sitting on the opposite seat? “You did great.”
“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t horrible.”
“Well, it’s over now, and the night can only get better from here, right?”
“I wouldn’t count on that.” Brenna reached for one of the decanters, sniffed the contents, then poured herself a glass. The tension he’d sensed earlier must have been repressed hostility, because it now filled the air around them.
“Are you still mad because I was late?”
Crossing her arms across her chest, she shot him a dirty look. “It’s certainly a place to start.”
“I told you, it was unavoidable.”
She rolled her eyes. “It always is with you. You wanted me to come to this party, and then you couldn’t be bothered to even show up on time.”
He sighed. “How many times do I have to apologize for that?”
“Don’t bother. We’ve had that fight before. I know how it ends.”
Exasperation set in. Brenna wasn’t making sense. “Then what?”
That lit her fire, and the look she leveled on him nearly scorched him. “I don’t even know where to begin. The wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am in the rehearsal room?”
Wham-bam…? What the hell…?
“Or the fact that right after that I got to watch you flirt with half the female population of San Francisco?”
That was what had her upset? “I was simply being nice.”
She snorted, and turned to stare pointedly out the window.
“Are you jealous, Bren?” He couldn’t keep the amazed amusement out of his voice.
That snapped Brenna’s eyes back