Read Just Beginning: A Prequel to Just Destiny (Destiny #1) Page 34

“You look gorgeous tonight, Jen.” Gabe’s eyes narrowed on her face, thoughtful. “I like what you did with your hair.”

  Jenny hooked her high heels on her bar stool as the waitress slid napkins across the glossy table for Gabe’s beer and her wine and glass of water.

  “Thanks.” Jenny was discovering a few remnant benefits of her earlier I-gotta-look-older craziness. Learning how to properly apply makeup came in handy when she felt like dressing up and wowing her hubby.

  Tonight Jenny switched from her subtle brown eye shadow to a more obvious purple that brought out the blue in her eyes. She’d been back to the hairdresser to trim her bangs but decided to let her hair grow out for the winter. The layers had grown long enough for her to be able to braid the sides and pull the rest up in a loose top knot, allowing a few wisps to trail down.

  She wore a dark sweater dress that comfortably hugged her curves and hit mid-thigh, showing off a good portion of leg. Though Jenny wasn’t as pleased with her choice in footwear as she was her dress, makeup, and hair. No doubt these pretty red pumps made her legs look good, but dang, wearing them was like walking around on tiptoes.

  “So what are we celebrating?”

  Jenny took a sip of her cabernet. “Steve won his wrongful death suit case. And I’m celebrating turning in the last foster care article.” She sighed and put the wine glass down. “I’m so glad it’s done.”

  “I bet. You put a lot into that series.”

  Jenny nodded, then sighed. She was pleased with her final efforts, but the experience still left her feeling raw. She wanted to help, but Gabe was right. First it’d be Tommy, and then another, and another. There’d be no end ’cause Jenny wouldn’t be able to turn away a single child in need. Where would she draw the line? How?

  Three giggling girls huddle talking as they passed, bumped Jenny’s back. “Oh, sorry,” the redhead threw over her shoulder as they headed for the bar.

  “No worries,” Jenny said to her retreating back.

  Gabe put a hand around her shoulders and leaned close. “Jen, I’m sorry we couldn’t help.”

  “I know.” She fiddled with the paper napkin under her wine glass. “I tried to come up with a way to make it work, but we can’t. To do it right, we’d have to give up my job or yours at the clinic, or our time together. Helping these kids would be a full-time job.”

  And I’m too selfish to give up my career and stress our marriage.

  She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “But we would’ve been good at it.”

  “We would’ve been great.” He pulled her close, hugging her.

  Jenny sighed, wishing she could erase her memories of Tommy sitting alone on his bed in the small room he shared with another foster child, a two-year-old baby boy. No computer, models, books, baseball mitts, or stuffed animals cluttered his space. He didn’t have any—space or possessions. Even the clothes he wore were cast-offs.

  “They’re so damn needy and lovable.”

  “Your articles will help. You’re such a passionate writer, readers won’t be able to help feeling your frustration, concern, and affection for these kids. You’ll reach a lot of potential foster parents who will have the time and patience to help them.” His face brightened. “Instead of helping one boy, you’ll be saving, maybe dozens. That’s quite an accomplishment, lady.” He brushed his warm hand over her back.

  “I suppose.” She looked at her watch. “Do you see Steve? It’s not like him to be late.”

  Jenny wiggled her feet in the restricting shoes and considered kicking them off, but perched barefooted on this high stool, with her red pumps lying on the ground beneath her would be gauche.

  Gabe put down his beer, leaned forward, then sat up straight to peer around the packed bar. “He just walked in.”

  She looked at the door to where Steve scanned the crowd. “I’ll get him.” Jenny eased off the stool, turned, and collided with a solid body. Something bounced off her chest and fell onto the floor.

  “Oh, Lord. I’m sorry.” A lady pressed an infant that looked to be a little younger than Adam to her chest as she tried to catch the diaper bag sliding down her arm.

  “My fault. Are you okay?” Jenny caught the handle and resettled it on the mom’s shoulder. The little girl, dressed in the cutest little white romper with tiny rosebuds all over it, stared at her through huge violet eyes. A matching rosebud headband encircled her tiny head.

  Jenny reached down and picked up the pacifier. She dipped it in her unused water glass. The baby’s face split into a heart-melting smile Jenny couldn't possibly ignore.

  She smiled, cooing, “Hi sweetie.”

  The baby’s grin widened, then she noticed her pacifier and she started kicking and reached for Jenny’s hand. Jenny handed it to her, expecting to have to pick it up off the floor again, but the little mite popped it into her mouth, tucked her head beneath her mom’s chin, and studied Jenny as the pacifier wiggled up and down.

  “Thank you so much,” the mom said. “Guess this wasn’t the smartest place to meet my husband.”

  “Probably not,” Jenny grinned. “She’s a cutie. How old?”

  “Ten months–I know she looks younger; she’s small for her age.”

  “Well she’s adorable.” Turning, Jenny saw Steve walking toward them, so she slipped back onto her stool.