Anything for You (Blue Heron #5)(69)

“I’m not a temp. I’ve been here more than a year. I just don’t like clutter.”

“Well, everyone has their own taste, I guess. What’s up?”

Jessica sat behind her desk. “The Times piece.”

“I know, right? Fabulous placement. I was so psyched, I kid you not. I mean, sure, Neil—the reporter?—he and I go way back, and the timing was perfect. Yay, Blue Heron!”

Jess nodded. “The thing is, I’m the media director here, and all press should go through me.”

“Did Honor have a problem with the piece?”

“I don’t think so. It was more how you handled—”

“So? What’s the big deal? It’s all good! We’re all on the same team, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but you don’t need to do my job for me.”

“Were you pitching the same story to the Times? I guess I missed that.” She smirked. “Look, don’t get your panties in a twist. I seized the moment, that’s all. You have your hands full with that poor brother of yours.”

Jessica felt her face freeze. “My brother is not poor. Nor is he any of your business.”

“I’m just saying, you must be exhausted, taking care of him all the time, waitressing, all those extra jobs of yours.”

Jess clenched her molars. “We’re not having this conversation, Marcy.”

“Fine. Sorry. Just concerned, that’s all.”

There was no further denying it. Marcy was a bitch.

Something occurred to her. “How did you even know about the new grape, Marcy?”

“Huh? I don’t know. Ned, maybe? Pru? She and I had lunch the other day. What a hoot she is! Listen, I’ve got to go. I have a meeting in, like, thirty seconds.” She stood up. “You’re welcome, by the way. Getting a piece in the New York Times is pretty f*cking amazing, in case you didn’t know that.”

With that, she left. Didn’t close the door, either, which meant Jessica had to get up and do it, or be subjected to that voice and those exclamation marks for the rest of the day.

Jess had dealt with mean girls her whole life. Somehow, they always surprised her, anyway.

She wished it didn’t make her feel so nervous. And that Marcy hadn’t scored so big with her first shot across the bow.

* * *

JOHN HOLLAND DROPPED in later that day, his baby grandson in his arms, Faith’s golden retriever on his heels. “Say hello to Jessica, Noah,” he said, making the baby wave at her.

Jess stood up. “Hi, handsome boy.” The dog, thinking he was the handsome boy, came over and nudged her hand. Blue was something of a fixture here, and the dog had a point. He was as pretty as they came.

“Doesn’t this baby look just like Faith?” Mr. Holland said. Jess smiled; this baby was a clone of Levi, and Faith was the first one to say it. “Your mommy was the most beautiful baby in the world,” he told the infant. He looked at Jessica, his perpetual smile as much a trademark as the Blue Heron logo. “How are you, dear? I hear your father’s back in town.”

“He is, Mr. Holland.”

“You can call me John, you know.”

“I don’t think I can, but thank you.” She smiled. She wasn’t sure if she was glad or not that he knew. Small town, though. No secrets.

“Is everything going all right on that front?”

“Seems to be.” Keith had come over for dinner just last night. Ned had stayed home as backup, but everything had been fine, Keith engaging Davey about what movies he liked, if he liked working at the candle factory, what his favorite desserts were. He’d offered to stay and help clean up, but Jess had turned him down, and he’d left without a problem.

“If you need anything, let me know,” Mr. Holland said. “Give him my regards.”

The words were innocuous, but it was a threat. Gentle John Holland, making sure Keith Dunn knew he was being watched.

What would life have been like if Jess had had a father like this man, who was now blowing raspberries at his grandson? It was impossible to imagine. “Thanks, Mr. Holland.”

“Are you going to the high school reunion tonight, Jess?” he asked.

Ugh. “I’m not sure,” she said.

“Oh, you should! Everyone will be so happy to see you. Mrs. Johnson and I are babysitting so Levi and Faith can go.” Noah started to fuss, and Mr. Holland turned him so he could pat his back. “All right, little boy. Let’s take a walk so you can see the grapes, how’s that? Come on, Blue. Have fun tonight, Jessica dear.”

On the short drive home, Jessica thought about the reunion. She’d bought a ticket; Theresa DeFilio was in charge of it, and no one could say no to her. She was just too nice.

But if she went, there’d be the Jessica Does references. The mean girls giving her looks and whispering, same as high school. The guys, checking her out, irritating their wives.

More than half her class had moved away after graduation. Some had gone off to college and jobs, and then come back—Faith, Levi, Colleen, Connor, Jeremy, Gerard, Tanner Angst. That type had seen her a lot these years, waiting tables at Hugo’s, doing the home health aide work in the winters, and most recently, at Blue Heron. They’d seen her taking care of her brother, seen her move from the trailer park to the rented house.