Chapter Eleven

Brenna

“Rhett? Why is that woman walking over here?” I asked, frowning. For some strange reason, my heart started galloping inside my chest, and I worried that my date would be over before it really even began. What if an old lover decided she wanted to be rid of me so she could rekindle the flame? My head ached with my confusion, but as a journalist, I knew that the facts never lied. Rhett had been checking her out for the past five minutes, and he’d barely spoken since he realized her presence. The woman oozed sophistication and class. Not his usual type.

How in the world had I known that?

I lifted my fingertips up to my pounding temples, trying to dull the pain. When I realized she was walking over to the table, my stomach cramped with anxiety.

Once she reached the table, the classy woman ignored Rhett and gave me an expectant look.

Oh god. This is someone I know – or someone I used to know. And why is Rhett being so shady? Why couldn’t he have just told me the truth as soon as I saw her?

“Brenna,” she said warmly, standing at the table, and obviously waiting for me to stand. As quickly as I could, I leapt out of my chair. One of my heels caught on the carpet, and I cried out as I tumbled forward, landing on my hands and knees on the red and gold patterned carpet.

“Oh god,” Rhett said. He got out of his chair and grabbed my elbow, helping me up as his eyes swept over me with tender concern. “Are you okay, Brenna?”

The brunette woman eyed me with open curiosity, then turned her glance to Rhett. “Rhett,” she said in a syrupy-sweet voice. “This is a surprise.”

I frowned. “What’s a surprise?”

She laughed. “Brenna, I’m surprised to see you with him.” She smiled, but it wasn’t entirely warm. “Are you working on an interview of some sort? Interesting choice of venue for that.”

“Why is that strange?” I asked, eyeing her pointing fingers as she indicated the finer points of the restaurant.

Before she could answer, Rhett smoothly stepped in and beamed at her, taking one of her elegantly manicured hands in his large one. “Janet, nice to see you. Reporting from a classier location?”

The woman – Janet – smoothed her dark hair and pursed her crimson lips together as if touching Rhett had given her a bad case of indigestion. “Not exactly.” She glanced back over toward the bar, pulling her fingers from his grasp. “I’m just here with a friend, having a drink.”

“But you are still reporting?” Rhett pressed on. “Would hate to see you give up your career when you’re not even close to retirement age.”

She’s a reporter, I thought. And he’s using veiled insults for some reason. Was she an adversary? Closing my eyes, I tried desperately to identify Janet’s name or face and figure out why she might be talking to me. She’s a reporter, she’s a reporter, she’s a–

“Of course,” Janet said, her lips going from pouting to pressed into a tight, white line of annoyance. “I’ve been at it so long, wouldn’t want to give up now. And I hope you haven’t given up, Brenna. Not after all the time we spent together.”

Had she been my mentor or something? Or maybe an old coworker, or a boss. Yeah, she must have been my boss at one time. Unfortunately, the realization that I was supposed to know Janet didn’t help jog my memory. If anything, I felt foggier and more confused than ever. Why was she so surprised to see me with Rhett? I bet it’s because of how badly he played the last game, I decided. She must be shocked that he’s able to get any face time with a top sports writer in the city.

“Of course not,” I said, trying to smile through my confusion and doubt. “I’ve been taking a little time off, but I’ll be back at it soon.”

“Good,” Janet said, her voice dripping with warmth as she looked at me. She winked, and I noticed that she was much friendlier to me than she was to Rhett. She pulled out a slim silver card case. “Listen, Brenna, if you ever want to get together – it’s been a long time since we talked. Why not give me a call sometime? I’d love to do lunch.”

“Sure,” I said quickly, taking the card, and glancing down. Sure enough, it read Janet McCall, SuperStar Public Relations.

“What did you think of the last game between the Jets and the Packers?” Janet asked me, and I didn’t know where the new line of questioning was headed. Riley had told me that I only covered baseball, so they must be in the MLB too. America’s favorite pastime was apparently my sole area of expertise. “And I couldn’t believe that scandal with the Patriots. So disheartening.”

“Uh, yeah,” I said. The name Jets sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember the Patriots. “Yeah, it was really crazy.”

“Especially that ending.” Janet clapped a hand to her forehead in mock distress. “I thought I was going to have white hair by the time it was over.” She laughed. “You know, owning a PR firm doesn’t seem that much less stressful than journalism, to be honest,” she said, smiling again. “But it keeps me young and on top of things.”

I nodded, feeling dazed. All of this – Rhett, the Patriots, the Jets, public relations – seemed new to me and my headache throbbed its displeasure. The way that Janet spoke to me so warmly led me to believe that we’d truly known each other well, and I felt depressed and alarmed that I couldn’t seem to remember her prior to this interaction.

“It was a crazy game,” Rhett said, stepping in and flashing a bright smile at Janet. “Hey, Janet, you know anyone who would want free box seats for the rest of the season? We haven’t been doing that well, but you know…” He shrugged. “You might enjoy yourself anyway.”

“Why, Rhett,” Janet said, sounding truly impressed for the first time since she’d had Rhett Bradshaw in her line of sight. “That would be so sweet of you. Here’s my card – just call my assistant, and she’ll give you my address. I’m sure my husband would love to come to a game or two with me. Who knows, afterward maybe we can…chat.”

Rhett inclined his head almost regally. “Yeah, that would be great.”

“Well, I have a feeling that I’m intruding,” Janet said, glancing from me to Rhett. She frowned again and speared me with a look of censure as if I were a thirteen-year-old girl smoking her first cigarette. “Just be careful, Brenna,” she added. She leaned down and air-kissed both of my cheeks, leaving me in a cloud of musky orchid perfume. “It was so nice to see you.”

“It was great seeing you too,” I said, smiling. Relief enveloped me, calming down the rapid pace of my pulse. But I couldn’t shake the sense that I’d missed something important. I made a mental note to call Riley and ask her about this Janet woman and her ties to me. I’d do it later once I got home from this date.

Janet gave us one last lingering confused look, then spun on her heel and walked back toward the bar.

“Hey, thanks for that,” I said as Rhett and I sat back down at the table. The waiter still hadn’t come to take our order, and I teetered on my feet from the low blood sugar.

“No problem,” Rhett said, his eyes narrowing in concern at my stumble. “You okay?”

I nodded. “I’m just really, really hungry. You want to go somewhere else?” I asked, sipping the last of my wine.

“Who, me? No!” Rhett argued with a wink, throwing his arms open. “I love this place. My new favorite. I might see if I can get a standing reservation.”

I squinted at him, seeing straight through his good-natured ribbing. “You obviously don’t,” I quipped. “You’ve been on edge ever since we came in here. Look, I know this isn’t your style. Why don’t we go somewhere else?”

Rhett shrugged but looked relieved. “If that’s what the lady wants.”

“Besides,” I added, leaning over the table and whispering. “I’m starving, and I have a feeling we’ll be here for hours before our entrees arrive. Someone has pissed off the waiter.”

Rhett chuckled. “Okay. I’ll leave him a huge tip for his trouble. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Where to?”

Rhett grinned and winked at me, sending my heart fluttering. My stomach flipped over, and I had a feeling it wasn’t just from the hunger pangs.

“Surprise me,” Rhett said, standing, and holding out his hand to me. “Can you remember any place else in the city you like to go?”

I smiled and clasped mine in his warm one. It felt safe. Right. Like home.

A memory flickered. I focused and held onto it, and the memory bloomed a bit more. I grinned. “Okay. I think I might know a place you’ll like.”