TRAVIS HAD DECIDED to drop in on an old college friend at his office downtown before leaving the city. He was just starting the car, wondering what his next step with regard to Jenna should be, when his cell phone rang.
“Travis Roth,” he answered.
“It’s Jenna Calvert. I’ve been thinking about your offer, and I may have changed my mind.”
“So you’re willing to help?”
“Maybe. I have a condition of my own I’d like to discuss, in person.”
“Of course. I’m open to negotiating.”
“I’d like you to come here to my apartment and pick me up, if you don’t mind.” She sounded almost…scared. And far less sure of herself than she had a few hours earlier.
“Is something wrong? You sound upset.”
She expelled a strained laugh. “You’ll see when you get here.”
“I’m just leaving downtown, so I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes if traffic is light.”
Travis pressed the end call button on his phone with no small sense of satisfaction. Mission accomplished. Now there was some hope of saving the wedding from ruin, once they’d overcome the next big obstacle—transforming Jenna into an exact copy of her polished, elegant sister.
No matter how daunting the task, it had to be done, and quickly—without any more getting distracted by sexual attraction. Travis drove back to Jenna’s apartment reviewing the necessary steps in his head and trying damn hard not to be thrilled at the thought of a weekend alone with the redheaded vixen.
Before they returned to Carmel, he’d be taking her to a house among the vineyards of Napa Valley, where he’d have the privacy to school Jenna on Kathryn’s life without raising any eyebrows. But for the life of him, he couldn’t stop the images of other things they might do alone at the country estate from invading his thoughts.
There was the matter of the condition Jenna mentioned placing on helping him, but whatever it was, he couldn’t imagine it being much of a problem. More money? He’d pay it. A new car? Consider it done. A nicer apartment? She clearly had the need for one.
The central San Francisco neighborhood where Jenna lived was an urban jungle of decrepit Victorians, tenement apartment buildings and seedy business fronts. The people who walked the streets weren’t the sort who hung out at wine-tasting parties or attended charity art auctions. Rather, many looked as though their favorite forms of entertainment might get them arrested.
Travis questioned his own sanity when he found a spot on the street for the second time that day and maneuvered his Mercedes into it. His car had gathered plenty of looks as he’d driven along, and now he’d be lucky if it were still here when he returned. He activated the security system and hoped there weren’t any smart car thieves around.
The door of Jenna’s building was propped open with a brick, so he went inside and climbed the stairs to her apartment. After knocking on the door, he took time to note the peeling paint on the door frame, the worn hardwood floors, the dingy walls. Jenna’s landlord needed to do some building maintenance, that was for sure.
After several minutes, there was still no answer, and Travis fought the sneaking feeling of panic in his gut that Jenna had changed her mind. He knocked again and waited some more. No one came.
He tried knocking harder, then heard a door open on the floor above.
“You trying to get in to see that red-haired girl?” A woman’s voice called down.
Travis looked up the stairs toward the source of that voice, but all he could see was the landing, lit by what must have been a twenty-five-watt bulb.
“Um, yes,” he said.
Then came the sound of footsteps, and the sight of fuzzy pink house slippers descending the stairs. Next came a red satin robe, and finally he had a full view of a small elderly woman with green curlers in her hair.
“She told me to let you in,” she said, eyeing him with interest. “I’m supposed to ask what your name is.”
“Travis Roth.”
“Yep, you fit the description.”
“Did she have somewhere to go?”
“Don’t ask me what that crazy girl’s up to.” She put a key in the door, unlocked it, then presented the key to him.
“I’m supposed to give this to you so’s you can return it to her.”
Travis took the key, then stared at it in his palm, dumbfounded.
“You get finished with her,” the woman said, “and I’m available right upstairs.” She waggled her eyebrows at him and flashed what must have been her version of a seductive smile.
“Thanks,” he said, forcing a neutral expression. “I appreciate your help.” He pushed the door open and stepped inside Jenna’s apartment before their encounter could get any more bizarre.
“The thing about us older women you can’t get with a young one like that,” she said, nodding in the direction of Jenna’s apartment, “is that we know more.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Honey, I could play your body like an accordion.”
Travis shuddered at the image.
“Have a good night,” he said as he closed and locked the door.
Turning away from it, he looked around the small room. Jenna was nowhere in sight, much as he’d expected, but the sound of running water came from behind a nearby door. Light was visible in the space between the door and the floor, so he figured Jenna had decided to take a shower.
He took in the mess that surrounded him. Either Jenna Calvert was a lousy housekeeper and a woman with violent feelings toward her sofa, or someone had trashed her place. But, if there had been a break-in, maybe even a struggle, it could have only just happened. Maybe Jenna wasn’t even alive and well in the shower. An image of her murdered body being soaked in a bloody shower flashed in his mind, and he panicked.
“Jenna!” He raced to the bathroom door and flung it open.
There, behind the transparent shower curtain, was the unmistakable silhouette of Jenna’s body, standing up, seemingly alive and well. He couldn’t help admiring the perfect proportions, the tantalizing curve where her waist met her hips. Steam from the shower dampened his face, and he caught the scent of her shampoo, something feminine and fruity.
“Jenna? It’s me, Travis.”
She peeked out from the edge of the curtain and smiled. “Oh, hi. You got here faster than I thought you would.”
Even the sight of her bare shoulder and her crimson hair, slicked back away from her face, aroused Travis. He’d definitely been working too hard lately, neglecting his social life, because instantly, he had a hard-on.
Cardiac arrest was the only appropriate
