Taking A Shot

“Yeah, that’s it.”


Her mom paused, lifted her head. “Something’s bothering you.”

“No.”

“Yes, there is. What is it?”

“It’s nothing, Mom. Really. I’m just a little tired. I had a late night last night.”

Her mother wiped her hands on a towel and came over, swept her hand over Jenna’s forehead. “Are you okay?”

Jenna laughed. Sometimes around her parents she still felt like she was six years old. “I’m fine. Just busy.”

“Are you feeling overworked at the bar?”

“No.”

Her mother gave her a disbelieving look. “You don’t take much time off. You know your dad or I can help.”

“I don’t need help. I have an assistant manager, and I do take time off.” She laid her hands over her mother’s. “Everything’s fine at the bar, and my love life is good.”

“Really. How good?”

Liz just had to walk in then, didn’t she?

“Hi, sweetie,” her mother said, beaming when Elizabeth kissed her on the cheek. “We were just talking about how tired Jenna looked.”

“No,” Jenna said. “Mom was talking about how tired I look. I was assuring her I was okay.”

“So is this about work, or is this about a guy?”

“Both,” her mom said. “I think she’s spending too much time on work, and she’s not dating anyone.”

Liz studied her. Liz, of course, was perfect, her hair pulled up as usual, makeup done, lipgloss on and she wore some designer outfit—an oversize white sweater and pale, tight pants with killer boots—that likely cost more than Jenna made in a month.

And God, Jenna loved her. They’d had a rocky start once she and Gavin had started dating, but Liz had been family before she and Gavin had fallen in love, and she was like a sister to Jenna now.

“Well, far be it for me to criticize anyone for working too hard. I’m the queen of all work and no play.” Liz drummed her fingers on the counter. “But Mom is right, Jen. You need to go out.”

“I had a date this week.”

“You did? With whom?” her mother asked.

Jenna shrugged. “Some model.”

Liz and her mother looked at each other. “Ooh, a model,” her mother said.

“Do tell.” Liz had a gleam in her eye.

“It didn’t work out.”

“Why not?” Her mother looked disappointed, and Jenna wished they weren’t having this conversation.

“No chemistry.”

“That’s too bad. But at least you’re getting out there.” Her mom picked up the knife and went back to slicing tomatoes.

Good. Maybe they could drop the subject of her dating life.

“Doesn’t mean you have to give up just because of one bad date,” her mother said while slicing.

And then again, maybe they wouldn’t be dropping the subject.

“Clearly you need some help.”

Jenna’s gaze shot to Liz. “No, I don’t.”

“I know a lot of guys.”

“Yeah, guys in sports. You know my rule.”

“What rule is that?” her mother asked.

“Jenna doesn’t date guys who play sports.”

She leveled a glare at Liz, who gave her an innocent look.

“What? Is that a secret?”

“You don’t date men who play sports?” Her mother looked confused. “Why on earth not?”

She waved a hand. “No particular reason, Mom. Just that I’m surrounded by sports all the time, so I just don’t want to date it. You know?”

“I guess so. This worries me, though.” She laid the knife down again.

The one thing she never wanted was her mom’s full attention. That meant she was focused on her, and that usually meant trouble.

“What’s there to worry about?”

“You hate sports.”

Jenna rolled her eyes. “I don’t hate sports. I grew up around them. I love them. I just don’t want to date them or marry them.”

“Hmmm.”

That was even worse. The examination by her mom when she pondered what she’d said.

She needed to escape.

“I think I’ll go see what Dad’s up to. You have things covered in here?”

“Sure. You go ahead.”

She made a quick exit and hurried out to the living room. Her dad was in there with Tara, Mick, and Nathan, watching, of all things, hockey. And even worse, it was an Ice game.

It was either that or face more conversation with her mother about her job and her love life.

The lesser of two evils, she supposed, and this was no different than being at work and having the game on at the bar.

She flopped onto the sofa next to her dad.

“What’s up, punkin?” he asked, slinging his arm around her.

“Mom and Liz are trying to fix me.”

His dad frowned and looked her over. “Are you broken?”

“Nope.”

He nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s watch the game.”

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