About That Fling(2)
The CEO frowned. “Fine, it wasn’t our best moment of communication. Moving on—” he paused, flipping through the paperwork. “We’ve had complaints from the cafeteria staff about some of our purchasing decisions. Take organic produce, for instance. Apparently five percent of domestically grown romaine lettuce carries salmonella and shigella.”
“Okay,” Jenna said, frowning down at her salad. “So we’ll have them buy produce from another vendor.”
“The union is pointing to this as an indication of unsafe practices and unsanitary working conditions. They say if we don’t negotiate different contracts for—”
A knock at the door snapped Jenna’s attention to the front of her office. She looked up to see her elderly aunt peering into the room.
“Oh, dear,” Aunt Gertie said, reaching up to smooth her cotton-white perm. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, sweetie. I thought you’d be on your lunch break.”
The CEO stood up and beamed. “Gertrude. So good to see you again. How’s the hip?”
“Wonderful, Jon, thank you for asking.”
“I know those medical bills were a challenge. If there’s anything I can do—”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” Gert interrupted, reaching out to pat the CEO’s arm. “But don’t you worry. I found a way to manage and everything’s just wonderful. I actually just finished my physical therapy and stopped by to ask Jenna a question, but I’ll skedaddle and let you finish your meeting.”
“Nonsense,” the CEO said. “I shouldn’t be interrupting her lunch anyway. We can finish another time.”
He reached for his briefcase, and Jenna watched as Aunt Gertie’s gaze fell to the cover of the novel. Gert’s eyebrows lifted, and Jenna felt her stomach clench as a satisfied little smile crossed Aunt Gertie’s face.
The CEO saw it, too, and offered up an awkward chuckle. “Yeah, I know. The wife stuck it in there this morning and told me I should read it. Apparently it’s a big runaway summer hit.”
“Erotic romance is certainly popular these days,” Gertie said, nodding pleasantly. “Are you enjoying it?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
“Delightful!” Gertie said, folding her hands together and flashing a cherubic smile. “Give Sharon my regards, will you?”
“Absolutely.” The CEO shoved the papers back in his briefcase, and Jenna felt a flood of relief. He tucked the briefcase under one arm and turned back to her. “I’ll catch up with you later. By the way, have you met the new HR manager?”
“No, not yet,” Jenna said. “I didn’t even realize you’d made the final hiring decision.”
“I’ll introduce you next week. She’s bringing in a mediator to work with the bargaining team. One of those woo-woo types specializing in positive communication and labor relations. There’s a meeting Monday.”
“I’ll have Sally add it to my calendar.”
Jon nodded, then turned and sauntered from the room. Jenna smiled at Gertie and gestured to the empty chair. “Have a seat.”
“I don’t want to bother you, sweetie. I was just in the neighborhood.”
“Trust me, you’re the most welcome sight I’ve had all day. Well, next to your fennel root tart,” she added, popping the lid off another Tupperware container. “This looks incredible.”
“I made the crust from scratch last night.”
“It looks fabulous. Thank you so much for lunch, Aunt Gertie.”
“My pleasure, dear.”
“So what did you need to ask me?”
Gertie reached into her handbag and pulled out a little notepad with daisies on the cover. “I was working on my grocery list while I waited for my PT appointment. Do you think you’ll be home for dinner?”
“Probably not. I’m meeting Mia at the wine bar. It’s my duty to drink her share now that she’s pregnant.”
“Give her a big hug for me. I’ve been knitting some booties for her baby.”
“She’ll love that.”
Gertie cleared her throat and glanced down at her notepad. “Tell me, sweetie, do you think ‘man root’ should be one word or two?”
Jenna pushed aside the fennel root tart and closed her eyes. “Is that your grocery list, Aunt Gertie?”
“Right—yes right, of course. The grocery list.”
Jenna pressed two fingers to her temple, wondering how long she could keep up this charade of pretending not to know how Gert managed to pay all those medical bills. “I suppose it depends on the context, but—”