The bullshit!
What was somewhat of a distraction from that miserable period of my life was getting to know Jenna, the new attorney brought in just for the Erika issue. She didn’t groupie me. I mean, she couldn’t because her ass would have been fired before laying a hand on my file. We’d spent countless hours together strategizing and going over texts and emails to prove Erika had still been sleeping with her ex. Some of those events were just us together where I got to see her, still wearing her professional cape, but lower her guard to talk about the risks of high profile relationships.
High profile relationships transitioned to relationships in general and before I knew it, months had passed and I was walking out of a bar with her at two in the morning, celebrating our victory of having my name cleared of Erika’s pregnancy when Jenna proposed a pact.
“Hey,” she called out, stopping to face me.
I noticed the slant of inebriation in her chocolate eyes. I didn’t say anything, but Jenna knew she had my attention. She hesitated a bit.
“Now that it’s over, we won’t be hanging out, grabbing beers anymore.”
I snorted. It wasn’t for any particular reason other than acknowledging her comment. She was right.
“So, why don’t we agree to stay in touch so we can maybe be real friends?”
“Why do you seem so shaky about asking to be friends? You’re not marketing yourself very well.” I joked with her.
Jenna’s face sobered and she waited a few seconds before continuing.
“Because I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. I don’t want to be more than just friends and I need that to be clear. I understand a man in your lifestyle is highly sought after using that line that’s accompanied by a hidden agenda. I’m not about that. I just want to be friends. You’re a cool guy and I’ve come to kind of trust you, something that’s a rarity for me. I don’t have friends because I have a hard time with trust.”
“That’s cool with me, Jenna. I’ve come to trust you a bit, too. Now that you’ve helped me bury a demon, I can clear you as cool in my book.” I smiled.
She didn’t.
“Stenton, I don’t want to be intimate with you.”
It hadn’t exactly been on my radar either, these past few months of knowing her. Jenna was a good looking woman: in her mid-thirties, pecan skin with impressive legs, long thick hair, and a hard veneer in terms of presentation, but she’d never “caught” my attention as a woman to pursue, sexually or otherwise.
Her eyes squeezed shut. “That came out harsh…but true. I don’t want you to think I’m at all available for a romp around the bedroom. This is no disguise for me. My last relationship was horrible. It ended just as badly. He was…” Jenna hesitated. “…well, let’s just say he liked to count all my flaws and minimize my accomplishments when he wasn’t cheating on me with a friend, underneath my nose.”
I changed in stance, feeling like she’d hit me with some shit.
“Damn, Jenna. I’m sorry to hear that.” And I was.
“It’s okay. It was three years ago and I’m seeing a therapist. I’ve been learning a lot about myself. I’ve set boundaries in my life. So, when I say I want us to be friends, I mean just that. I don’t want you to expect anything outside of hanging out and chugging a few back,” she snickered, finally breaking from her previous stern position.
This was fine with me. I didn’t need to get involved with another woman. I had been so unsettled from Zoey and turned the fuck off by Erika that the thought of a relationship was a nightmare.
I held my hand out to her for a shake, agreeing to her friendship proposal to end our night. My car was waiting for me.
“To just being beer chugging buddies.”
A big ass smile crested Jenna’s face. It was one of pure of elation. Talk about layers. She’d just shown me she had a soft side with this exchange and that response.
And then there was my friend, Jenna.
~~~~~~~~~~
July 2011