her down. On the guy front, her gut was a total failure, but she was okay with that. It wasn’t as if she was looking for a relationship. Career now, she told herself. Men, whenever.
She swallowed the last of her coffee, then got out of her car and headed for the front door. Jenna straightened at her knock and hurried to let her in.
“You’re here. Thank God. I’m drowning in boxes. I made a diagram so we’d know where to put everything. What I didn’t count on was the packing material. How is it possible that after I empty a box, there’s more material to stuff in it than will fit? Is that a retail thing?” Jenna paused and laughed.
“Sorry,” she said and shook her head. “I’m a little wired. I’ve been here since four this morning and I’ve had the coffee to prove it. Let me start over. Hi. Welcome. How are things?”
“Good. For what it’s worth, you’re right about the packing material. Somehow while it’s on the floor it multiplies or something.”
“That explains the mess.”
Jenna gestured to what had been an open space the last time Violet had seen it. Now it was a maze of boxes and shelves. Whatever free floor space had been there before was now filled with open containers overflowing with paper and cardboard.
By contrast, Jenna looked cool and unruffled. She wore a white chef’s coat over black pants. Black clogs covered her feet. She’d pulled her dark red hair back into a ponytail. Her green eyes were bright, her full mouth smiling, her skin perfect, despite the lack of makeup and probable lack of sleep. She looked like a model dressing like a chef for a photo shoot, but more Town and Country than Cosmo.
Violet had dressed for comfort and physical labor. She’d pulled a long-sleeved T-shirt over jeans and had worn scuffed ankle boots. Despite the fact that she wore the more practical clothes, she felt as if she’d misread the invitation and had shown up in shorts for a fancy dress ball.
“Here’s my diagram,” Jenna said, pointing at several sheets of paper tacked to the wall. “Obviously the kitchen is in back. I ordered a few new things for that and they’ll go in the cupboards under the counters. I’m organizing everything else by function. Pots and pans together, bakeware. You get the idea.”
She quickly went through the layout.
“A woman with a plan,” Violet said. “Why don’t I take some of this trash out to the Dumpster? Most of it can go in the recycling bins.”
“Great. I’ve been avoiding the boxes of ceramic bowls. I can’t begin to imagine how many layers of packing material are in those. With you here, I think I can be brave.”
They worked for the next couple of hours. Together they wrestled the impressively large mixers into place. Jenna did her share of ripping up cardboard and stacking supplies, which surprised Violet. A lot of bosses were more into gesturing about how the work should be done than actually participating.
Despite the physical labor, Jenna didn’t break a sweat. Violet felt distinctively damp, but rather than be annoyed, she told herself she would have to accept the fact that her new boss was one of those perfect people. Perfectly organized, perfectly disciplined, perfectly elegant in every situation. Violet had always meant to be perfect … one day. But somewhere during her life journey, she’d made an imperfect turn and never recovered.
Around ten-thirty, they took a break. Jenna had already stocked the small refrigerator under the counter with diet Snapple and handed out a bottle of unsweetened tea. They sank onto the floor.
Jenna stared around at the piles of merchandise. “It’s going to get better, right? If it’s not, it’s okay to lie to me and say it is.”
Violet uncapped her bottle and took a drink. “It’s going to be great. You’ll see. In the future, the boxes will only arrive a few at a time. That makes it easier.”
“I hope so. The worst I’ve had to deal with in a restaurant is finding out the beef I ordered hadn’t been butchered.”
Violet stared at her. “As in it was still a cow?”
“Practically. I had to prepare all the steaks myself. Let me just say, making tomahawks all afternoon strains the wrist.”
Violet must have looked blank because Jenna added, “It’s rib eye steak with a frenched rib bone.”
“Right.” As if that made anything more clear, Violet thought. “Does being able to cut your own steaks make you more or less popular with the guys?”
Jenna grinned. “It was important to prove myself in the kitchen. A little butchering can go a long way.” Her smile faded. “I was always better at that than Aaron. Probably another reason why things didn’t work out.” She stared at her Snapple for a second, before raising her head. “I’m in the middle of a divorce. Paperwork is signed. We’re waiting out the time.”
A divorce. Violet hadn’t seen that one coming. “I’m sorry,” she said automatically. “Do you miss him?”
Jenna shrugged. “You’d think I would.” She paused, as if thinking. “I miss what used to be good. When we worked together. In the past year or so, I couldn’t do anything right. Or so he said.”
Jenna stopped talking abruptly, as if she hadn’t meant to say that much.
“I know what you mean,” Violet said quickly. “I’m a total disaster when it comes to men. I’m always picking the wrong one. If I’m attracted to a guy, run far and fast. He’s a loser. Probably an unemployed loser who will charm you out of every penny you have.” Or worse. But she had no reason to admit that. At least not on her first day.
“My new plan is to not date,” she finished with a shrug.
“Ever?”
“I wish, but I’ll give in. This time I’m determined to get it right,” Violet said. “I’m going to keep saying no until I’m sure. Except all the ones I say no to turn out to be great. My radar sucks. I guess next time I need to say yes when I want to say no. Reverse psychology and all that.”
Jenna raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows. “You get asked out a lot?”
“Sure. Hourly. Don’t you?”
“Not exactly.”
Violet didn’t believe that. Jenna was that irresistible combination of fire and class. “Maybe because you were married.”
“I don’t think so. Guys are rarely interested in me.”
Violet nearly choked on her drink. “Then you’re not paying attention. Trust me, men are interested.”
“I’m sort of avoiding men right now,” Jenna admitted. “Aaron cheated, so I’m being cautious.”
Her ex had cheated? Violet had to consciously keep her mouth from dropping open. If a guy would cheat on someone like Jenna, what chance did the rest of them have?
Someone tapped on the front door, then pushed it open. “Hi. I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Jenna stood gracefully and crossed to the other woman. “Perfect timing. We were just taking a break.”
