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Chapter Four
Jenna tried to focus on paying attention to the event and think about what she wanted to write about this first of the senator’s parties. Covering powerful politicians was always difficult. Their press secretaries always wanted to see the article before it went to print. She never allowed this, but she understood it. She tried to put Dan out of her mind, but it was proving to be difficult.
The evening wore on, and Jenna and Brock stood near the bar, watching the parade of the rich, famous, semi-famous, and the want-to-be-famous. Jenna nudged Brock with her elbow. “Look at that necklace on Mrs. Ridley. Now that’s the real thing.”
Brock followed her gaze. “How do you know from this distance, and why are you surprised that it’s real?”
“Diamonds, the real ones, have a look all their own, Brock. Most women in the tax bracket represented here don’t wear their real ones in public—much too valuable.”
“I keep forgetting your dad was an expert in the field and how much you know about this stuff. And yes, I remember your many lessons on the reason for the fakes now.”
“Yes, it was Dad’s business and the family business for several generations before. I learned a lot about jewels and art, too, working with my dad, and listening to his stories, and well…”
Brock put his hand on her arm. “Sorry, Jenna, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It’s okay. Dad has been gone nearly five years now and it helps to talk about him. It makes me miss him less in some ways. Well, I’ll—”
Brock interrupted. “You seem to have an admirer, Jenna. Who is that guy over there who keeps staring at you?”
Jenna turned to see where Brock was looking, but she knew who it would be. “Oh, that’s someone I used to know years ago. A friend of mine and a friend of the family.” She turned back to Brock and smiled, but her heart rate ticked up as she fought the urge to turn around and look at Dan.
Brock leaned in and whispered, “Well, I think he wants to say hello because he’s coming this way.”
Jenna wanted to run but knew that was not an option, so she forced herself to smile as Dan approached. She noticed his newly trimmed his hair for the occasion, and he looked as if he were born to wear a hand-fitted tux. She was not surprised to see several people stop him to chat as he made his way over. Jenna took the opportunity to study him closer. Looking at him now, if one didn’t know, they would be surprised to know he raced cars, jumped out of planes, climbed mountains, and pushed everything to the limit. He had done a few other things that couldn’t be mentioned; many things that went over the limit. None of that showed through his expensive clothes and superior attitude as he surveyed the crowed. He was the ultimate Southern gentleman tonight, from head to toe. But Dan Kelly was a chameleon.
Dan was smiling in that special way, radiating confidence, and telling the world he was totally comfortable in his own skin. That was one of the things she admired about Dan. He was who he was, and he would never change to meet anyone’s expectations. Between his detective training and his upbringing, which offered him the best of everything, there was no role he couldn’t play if needed. Jenna wondered what role he was playing now.
As he walked up to Jenna and Brock, Dan held her gaze. He stood a step too close, which he knew would annoy her. He didn’t acknowledge Brock as he took her hand. “Jenna, you look beautiful. I’d forgotten how well you clean up.”
She stepped back to put space between them. “Hello, Dan.”
Dan smiled and turned to Brock. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Jenna?” He held out his hand toward Brock.
Jenna took a breath. “Brock, this is Dan Kelly, an old friend. Dan, this is Brock Sawyer, a—newer friend.”
The men shook hands.
Jenna could see Dan sizing up and dismissing Brock. His body language told her he didn’t consider Brock competition in any way that was concerning.
Dan turned back to Jenna. “I’d love to catch up sometime soon. Do you have a few minutes tonight?”
“Why don’t you join us for a drink out on the deck, Dan, or should that be the veranda?” Brock grinned, as he motioned toward the huge doors leading out to the side with the water view.
Dan turned to Brock. “I’d love to, but I’m afraid our talk of old times and family and such would bore you stiff. If there is one thing worse than talking about one’s wealth to a Southerner, it’s boring your friends.”
Brock tilted his head and looked at Dan again. “You don’t sound like a Southerner.”
Dan gave Brock a look that Jenna recognized as a challenge.
“No, I’m not, and neither are you from the sound of it. But I spent a lot of time here, and I play by their rules when here.”
Jenna put a hand on Brock’s arm and took a step back. “Dan, let’s do this another time.”
“How about lunch tomorrow?” Dan’s dark eyes focused on her own, insisting.
Jenna knew he would never give up. “Fine, lunch at one o’clock. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“You don’t mind, do you, Brock?” Dan smiled, but his eyes were dark and the stare intense.
