Page 12 of Down on Me


  Tyree didn't answer immediately, but he nodded slowly. Finally, he looked up at Jenna. "Fine. But we're sharing facts, not weaving sob stories."

  "Exactly," she confirmed. "And keep in mind, the calendar contest is only one arm of the octopus. We've got new marketing ideas, other ways to monetize. A whole laundry list of marketing goodness. In fact, we're starting full-blown on Saturday at Eeyore's Birthday Party," she added, referencing the annual Austin event where The Fix was going to have a stall selling beer, drinks, and limited snacks. "I'll have flyers letting folks know that an expanded menu is in the works, and also advertising the contest. So expect sign-ups by next week."

  She moved behind Tyree and put one hand on his shoulder. "In other words, we've got this." Her eyes met Reece's as she spoke. "You just have to have faith."

  "And with the four of us leading the charge," Reece added, "there's no way we'll fail."

  "Ted Henry might have something to say about that," Tyree said, referring to the man who'd made him the original loan. A man who Easton had learned just happened to be one of the major investors in Bodacious and its related bars and restaurants.

  "Ted Henry's a two-faced bastard who'll end up getting exactly what's coming to him," Brent said. "I keep telling Faith that bad guys get their comeuppance. I'm not letting the prick make a liar out of me."

  "I say we drink to that," Tyree said. "Reece, you want to do the honors?"

  "Hell yes," he said, then went behind the bar and came back with a tray topped with five pints. They raised their glasses, and Tyree looked at each of them in turn. "To the best friends a guy could hope to have."

  "Right back at you," Brent said. He glanced at his watch. "And since we open in about an hour, I think it's time we all get to work. So we can keep our promises to earn shit tons of money over the next seven months."

  "Deal," Jenna said, just before Aly poked her head in and waved for attention.

  "Sorry to interrupt, but there's a woman here who says she's supposed to meet with Jen. Her name's Maia?"

  "Be right there," Jen said. Then to Tyree, she added, "See? I told you your regulars want to help."

  "That girl's a sweetheart," Tyree said. "Been coming here since she was an undergrad."

  "We met in grad school," Jenna told him a few minutes later, when the two of them walked out to meet the vibrant black woman who hurried over to greet them, the beads on the ends of her tiny braids flashing in the bar's dim morning lighting.

  "I'd love to officially work with Jen on all of this," Maia told Tyree after she'd given him a hug in greeting. "But we're doing an event for the corporation that owns Bodacious." She grimaced. "Conflict. But I've got all sorts of contacts to share with Jen. And," she added, "I have some ideas about bringing in talent. And there's no conflict issue when I'm just shooting the shit with a friend."

  "Don't you do anything to get in trouble," he said.

  Maia pressed her hand against her chest and fluttered her eyes. "Me? Perish the thought. Now go away," she added, waving him off. "Go be productive and let us talk."

  He chuckled but did as she ordered. "You're sure it's okay?" Jenna asked again, once he was out of earshot.

  "Sweetie, I never do anything that would mess with my business. Especially not so soon after making partner. But helping a friend? Helping to keep my favorite bar's doors open? I mean, this is the place that helped me make partner in the first place. If my former boss weren't so busy with her touring schedule, then she'd still be a solo act, and I'd be an employee. But Tyree let her perform, and her career took off. And now here I am in all my marketing glory."

  "Fair enough," Jenna said, laughing. And Maia did have a point. Her partner was Cam's sister, Kiki King, a singer/songwriter in Pink Chameleon, a Grammy award-winning band.

  "Speaking of, PC's on tour right now, but I think they might be able to perform in October for the wrap-up of your calendar contest."

  "That would be amazing," Jenna said. She and the guys had agreed that the twelve events would be held on alternating Wednesdays, with the competition for Mr. January taking place on the third Wednesday in May. Just two and a half short weeks away.

  "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about the schedule," she told Maia. "I figure we need to build excitement with each of the twelve contests. I don't want interest to lag, so we have to get more and more creative over the course of the twelve events."

  "That would be my advice," Maia said, pushing her purple glasses higher on her nose. "You want to start with a bang, of course, but at the same time, you want excitement to build. Because falling enthusiasm will be a death blow to success."

  "But no pressure," Jenna said, and they both laughed. Aly came over then to take their lunch orders, and the conversation shifted to nitty-gritty things like how exactly to build that magical excitement, which printers in town were reliable, which morning TV shows were always looking for content, and which local celebrities might be induced to enter the contest. Or, if not that, to promote either the contest or The Fix itself.

  By the time Maia said she had to run, Jenna felt ridiculously optimistic. Like maybe she had a handle on all of this. Like maybe everything was going to turn out okay.

  She stayed at the table for another couple of hours, her laptop in front of her as she shot off email after email and filled her electronic to-do list with so many tasks it was a wonder her computer didn't howl in protest.

  "You're looking very productive."

  She twisted in her chair, smiling, as Reece laid his hand on her shoulder. "That's because I'm kicking ass and taking names. I've pretty much got feelers out to the whole city at this point. Before I'm done, we'll have local celebrities as contestants, local female celebrities as judges, and every person in the city stumbling all over themselves to get coveted tickets to the Wednesday night contests."

  "Tickets?"

  "We have to have a way to control the door. I figure we give some away--I'm thinking radio as one possibility--but charge a premium for the rest. There's more panache with a price tag."

  He bent over and kissed her head. "I love the way you think."

  "Reece!"

  She scooted her chair away from him as she shot to her feet, her eyes scanning the bar for Brent. For anyone who might have noticed the kiss.

  "He's in the office talking with Tyree," Reece said, reading her mind.

  "But Aly and Eric and Tiffany are here," Jenna said, heading toward the back of the bar and the door that led to the alley. "We have to be careful," she added. But as soon as the service door shut behind them, she was in his arms, sighing against his chest as he held her tight, one hand lightly cupping her ass as the other rubbed gentle circles on her back.

  "Come home with me tonight," he said.

  "Soon," she promised, as nerves twisted her stomach.

  He cupped her chin. "He loves us both, Jen. If he's upset, it'll be with me. But at the end of the day, he'll be okay with it."

  "Maybe." She wanted to believe him, but she couldn't shake the fear. Reece and Brent were her family. The only family she had near here now that her mom had moved away.

  And even though she trusted Brent with all her heart and loved him like a brother, Jenna knew only too well that even family can let you down. And the people who claim to love you can leave just like everyone else.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Eeyore's Birthday Party had been held in Central Austin's Pease Park on the last Saturday of April for longer than Jenna had been alive. And she'd been a regular attendee all her life, having missed only two that she could recall. Last year, when she'd been in LA interviewing for jobs, and her sophomore year of high school, when she'd been in the hospital recovering from an emergency appendectomy.

  Founded in honor of the gloomy character from the Winnie the Pooh books by A.A. Milne, the party had grown from a simple gathering that some University students had put together to an event so large it sometimes seemed that the whole town turned out. Including, always, a flower-draped donkey a
s the donkey-of-honor.

  All proceeds from the event went to various non-profit organizations, and dozens upon dozens of local vendors showed up with games, crafts, food, and enough drinks to keep the party going. Even in the new millennium, the party had a hippie vibe, and it was much more kid-friendly in the early hours when children and adults lined up for face-painting, giant soap bubble games, kites, henna tattoos, and lots and lots of costumes.

  "There he is!" Faith called, jerking free of Jenna's hand so she could run pell-mell across the park toward where this year's Eeyore stood inside a pen looking appropriately gloomy.

  Jenna squeezed Reece's hand. "What time are we supposed to relieve Brent?"

  He glanced at his watch. "Soon. But he knows what we've got on our hands," he added, with a nod toward Faith, who had entered the pen and was gently stroking the donkey's nose. "He won't care if we're a little late."

  Brent was currently manning the booth that The Fix on Sixth was sponsoring, selling beer, wine, and a limited selection from the menu, with this year's proceeds benefitting the Austin Zoo, a small local zoo dedicated to animal rescue and rehabilitation. Jenna had loaded him and the rest of the staff up with stacks of flyers announcing The Fix on Sixth's Man of the Month calendar model contest, and giving details on both how to sign up and when the contest would be running live on stage.

  "Maybe we should be a lot late," Jenna said as she and Reece parked themselves by the pen's exit. Then she turned in his arms and tilted her face up for a kiss. She and Faith had gotten their faces painted less than an hour before, and glittery pink rubbed off on Reece's nose. She wiped it away with her thumb. "We could enlist Elijah to watch Faith, and you and I could go escape into the trees." Not that there were many trees where they were, but Jenna was motivated enough to walk a ways if it meant some privacy with Reece.

  "Tempting," he said. "How about I kiss you again now, and we'll call it a rain check for later?"

  "That's a plan I can live with." She rose up on her toes, her arms going around his neck as she lost herself in the kind of slow, deep, demanding kiss that had her imagining long nights in bed with that tongue doing even more amazing things to her body.

  "Well," she said when they broke apart. "Is it later yet?"

  His mouth curved up. "Anticipation, baby. It's the best aphrodisiac there is."

  "Jenna! Reece! Did you see? I petted Eeyore!" Faith burst out of the gate and ran toward them.

  "I know," Jenna said. "Was his nose soft?"

  "Uh-huh." She looked between the two of them, her face screwed up with concentration. "Can I be a flower girl?"

  "A what?" Reece asked.

  "A flower girl."

  "Like this?" Jenna pointed to her own face and a colorful flower that curled up near her eye.

  "Nooooooo." Faith rolled her eyes. "A real flower girl. Like Missy got to be when her big sister got married last month. I want to be a flower girl, too. Can I be yours? Pretty please?"

  "Oh," Jenna said. She glanced at Reece, and her stomach twisted when she saw the tightness on his face. She knew why, of course, and not for the first time, she had to wonder if he'd ever come around on the side of marriage--and what she'd do if he didn't. But she shoved the thought firmly from her head. They'd been a couple for all of twenty-seven seconds, and their best friend didn't even know the truth yet. Marriage was the last thing she needed to be thinking about.

  "Please..." Faith's voice rose in a heartfelt plea.

  "I have an idea," Jenna began, managing a sideways smile at Reece. "The minute we need a flower girl, you're going to be the one we call. Okay?" The girl's smile widened. And before she could ask when exactly that might be, Jenna grabbed her hand and said, "Why don't we go get henna flower tattoos on our hands right now?"

  "Can we?" Faith's eyes went wide.

  "Sure. Wouldn't Daddy think that's pretty?"

  The little girl nodded, then looked up at Reece. "Are you coming, too, Uncle Reece?"

  "I think this sounds like girl-time, okay?"

  Faith nodded, her black curls bobbing. "I like girl time," she said. "Someday, I'll have a mommy, and can have it whenever I want."

  A knot of tears rose in Jenna's throat, and she blinked furiously to keep them from seeping out through her eyes. "Did your daddy tell you that?"

  "Oh, no. Mrs. Westerfield," Faith said, referring to her regular babysitter. "She says Daddy doesn't know what's good for him, but that someday he'll find a nice lady."

  Jenna met Reece's eyes, and saw that he looked as helpless as she felt. But then he sank to one knee and pulled Faith close. "Well, I'll tell you what. Until he does, you and Aunt Jenna can have all the girl time you want, okay?"

  "Okay," she said agreeably, then stuck one thumb into her mouth and held out her unoccupied hand for Jenna.

  "What are you going to do?" Jenna asked, as Reece pulled her close and rested his forehead against hers.

  "I'm going to go relieve Brent," he said. "It's not the same, but I think a little daddy-daughter time wouldn't come amiss."

  "No," she agreed. "Definitely not."

  "Aunt Jenna! Come on!" A little hand tugged hard on her fingers.

  "Someone's anxious," she said, letting herself be led away. "We'll find you later," she called back to Reece.

  Later turned out to be a full hour since the line for henna was long and, right next to the henna tent was a small pen filled with peacocks.

  "All right, rug rat," Jenna said. "Time to go find Reece."

  "Good luck," a familiar voice said, and she looked over her shoulder to see Brent leaning on a nearby post.

  "Oh, you're here. Good. Reece is covering The Fix's booth?"

  "Tiffany's on it," Brent said. "That's why I came to find you. That, and to check on my junior ornithologist," he added, pointing to Faith, who was creeping up on a preening male peacock.

  "We're having a great time," Jenna said. "But what about Reece?"

  "He had to go. His dad called. Edie slipped, and she's in the ER."

  "Oh no."

  "He said he tried to call, but your phone's going straight to voicemail. He thinks you may be out of charge."

  She pulled it out of her small shoulder bag and saw that he was right.

  "Do you want to go meet him? I know you told Faith that you were going to spend the evening playing with her, but I can smooth that over."

  "No. Thanks, but it's okay. I'll check in with him tonight, and I'll go over there and see her tomorrow." She hesitated, then cocked her head to one side. Something was off, but she wasn't sure what.

  "I'm not blind," he said, his voice suggesting that he was giving her a clue.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "You know what I'm talking about," he said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  She hugged herself. "Because I'm an idiot?"

  "You?"

  "Reece thought we should tell you right away. But I..."

  "What?"

  "Don't tease me, Brent. You know me too well. I was scared, okay? I love you, too. And this--with Reece, I mean--it changes everything."

  "You're right," he said, and her eyes shot to his in shock. "It does change everything."

  Her heart was suddenly pounding very hard. "What are you--"

  "And you're right that you're an idiot," he continued.

  She frowned, confused, but a tiny bit of the terror was lifting. "Am I?"

  "Do you think we haven't already survived change? The three of us, I mean?" Before she could answer, he turned and pointed to Faith. "Faith was one hell of a change. Did I lose either of you?"

  "No." Her word was barely a whisper. "It's just that I--"

  He pulled her roughly to him, his hands on her shoulders, and he stared into her eyes with the same intensity with which she'd seen him look into Faith's. It's just a nightmare, sweetie. None of it is real.

  "I know," he said to Jenna now. "I know it scares you. I even know why. But you won't lose me."

  "You." She turned the word over i
n her head, examining the implications. "But you think I might lose him?"

  He didn't deny it. "Just be careful before you get in too deep."

  Her heart skipped a beat, but she understood what he was talking about. How could she not? She knew Reece as well as Brent did--better when you factored in the last couple of days. And she'd seen the way his expression had closed off when Faith mentioned being a flower girl at their wedding.

  "I went in with eyes open," she told Brent. "And we've just barely gone from friends to lovers."

  "All I'm saying is to be careful. And to be sure what you want--and what you're willing to settle for--before you get too deep."

  She managed a sideways smile. "No worries. I'm already treading water. And the truth is, I'm a damn good swimmer."

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was six in the morning when Jenna let herself into Reece's apartment. She'd considered going during the night, but she wasn't sure if he'd still be at the hospital with Edie and his dad. And besides, she'd wanted a few hours to get a handle on her thoughts.

  Now that she'd managed that, she was done waiting.

  She hadn't bothered knocking, nor did she bother calling out once she was inside. The garage apartment was tiny, with a loft-style bedroom over part of the living area, a kitchen tucked into a sunlit corner, and a decent sized bathroom on the opposite side of the space.

  That's where Reece was. He'd left the door slightly open, and steam from his shower escaped into the apartment, a swirl of white mist that seemed to draw her near. She could smell him. Or his soap, at least. A clean, masculine scent. And when she pushed the door open and stood on the threshold, she could see his outline behind the foggy shower door.

  For a moment she simply watched him, succumbing to the rush of pure, visceral need that coursed through her, settling between her thighs and making her wet. Then she walked to the stall and opened the door.

  "I was wondering if you were going to join me," he said, his back still to her. He turned. "I was hoping you would," he added, and if the state of his erection was any sign, he meant it.