All About the Timing
Автор
Charlene Gravely
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Jenny isn’t new to heartbreak—but this is different. One man pushes her to explore her boldest, rawest desires. The other? He sees parts of her soul she’s never shown anyone. Torn between heat and heart, she’s trying to follow her instincts… but timing has other plans. As passion tangles with compassion, and lust collides with loyalty, Jenny starts to realize that the choices she makes now could shape everything. What happens when the man who sets your body on fire isn't the one fate gave you? And when the right moment... just won't come?
Chapter 1
My alarm went off at six-thirty as usual, and I rolled over, hitting the snooze button. Stretching my arms up and yawning, I remained in bed, my mind racing with thoughts of Jonathan.
I imagined him lying on top of me, caressing my breasts with his rugged hands. He smiled at me as he lowered himself to taste me.
I felt his fingers entering me.
BEEP! BEEP! The alarm went off again.
I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. My fantasy would have to continue later.
I was not sure why Jonathan kept popping up in my dreams. He had not given me any indication that he was even somewhat interested.
My inner self continued taunting me. Just keep flirting with him; let him know you are interested!
I quickly dried off and began to dress, putting on my slacks, long sweater, and new boots. As I dried my long brown hair, I thought of my day ahead, making mental notes to myself: pick up the dry cleaning, stop by the post office for stamps, pick up eggs and bread.
I had a busy day ahead, and my list of chores was growing.
I looked in the mirror, loving this new outfit I had bought. It fit me well, showing off my curves.
I was getting close to my thirtieth birthday. I put on my usual simple makeup, highlighting my dark brown eyes, lotioned up my hands, and headed downstairs.
I lived in a beautiful condo on the main road with cobblestone sidewalks, easily accessible to all of the trendiest restaurants and shops in town. I did not have a need for a car; everything was accessible to me by walking or a short cab ride.
I liked living near everything.
I drank my morning tea and quickly ate a piece of peanut butter toast, grabbed my purse and briefcase, then headed out the door to start my day at the Anderson Center. I had been the activities director there for almost three years now.
Outside, I caught a glimpse of a cab coming down the block. I stood at the curb, waving my arm in the air toward the driver.
He abruptly pulled to the side of the road and smiled as I got in the back seat.
“Good morning,” he said as he glanced up in the rearview mirror. “Where are you headed?”
Without looking up, I searched through my large purse to be sure I remembered my cell phone.
“Twenty-six Anderson Ave, please. It’s the Anderson Center for Seniors.”
The cab driver pulled into the busy traffic. “Yes, ma’am.”
My day was like most others. I went to my office, checked my calendar and messages.
The Anderson Center is a huge seniors residential home. They house five hundred residents, from independent living to assisted living patients.
I have two assistants I am constantly brainstorming with. I take pride in my work and am meticulous with the details of each and every event I put on.
The residents all took a liking to me right away, and many have become extended family.
“Hello, Miss Jenny!” I heard from an elderly woman standing in the doorway.
“Hi! Miss Mary, how are you feeling today?”
“Good, good. I wrote down a few announcements for you to please put in the monthly newsletter,” she explained and entered to hand me the paper.
“Okay, I can add most of these, except for this one, Miss Mary. You know I cannot call out Miss Beatrice for not being friendly,” I said sternly.
“That woman is the rudest person I have ever met. You know she doesn’t even say hello when you pass her in the hallway. It’s not right! She won’t even make eye contact, and it’s not just me, I’ve been asking around…”
“Miss Mary, let’s not judge others.”
I continued to lecture the elderly woman, knowing the feud between these two was never going to be resolved. I dismissed Mary as quickly as possible so I could finish checking my emails and then get ready for the group activity of the day.
Today was craft day, one of my favorites. I have a passion for creating things; half of my nights are spent looking on Pinterest for ideas for the residents.
The Anderson Center has a huge separate room that I have organized into a craft room. There are shelves filled with plastic tote boxes, individually labeled with everything you could imagine, from paints to beads, glitters, glues, and more!
My classes fill up each and every week.
There was a knock on the glass door, and I could see it was Ericka, my assistant.
“Hi, Miss Jenny, ready for class today?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m excited, look at this pumpkin,” I said as I took out the sample to show her. It was a hollow pumpkin made from pipe cleaners, decorated with a huge fall bow on the top.
Ericka exclaimed as she felt the pumpkin, “How did you do that? It’s solid, but it’s made from pipe cleaners?”
“Yes!” I explained. “It’s pretty easy to make, but the prep work is a pain. That’s why I asked you and Nancy to come to class early today. We need twenty-five balloons blown up, but don’t worry, I bought a pump for us.”
“Hi!” We were interrupted by my other assistant.
“Good morning, Nancy! Are you ready to start pumping balloons today?” I said as I handed her the small pump and a bag of balloons.
I explained, “Watch, once you have the balloon blown up, the ladies can twist the pipe cleaners around it.” I demonstrated. “Then they simply take this white glue with a paintbrush and coat it over the pipe cleaners and onto the balloon. Once it’s fully dry, you simply pop the balloon, and this is what you’re left with!” I held up the pumpkin with pride.
“That is beautiful!” Ericka said in awe.
“I also brought these earplugs, so no one has a heart attack on our watch,” I laughed.
My day came and went. As usual, there was not enough time to accomplish everything I wanted to.
By the end of the day, I found myself stuffing files and notebooks into my briefcase to take home and deal with later after dinner.
I walked out of the parking lot and onto the busy curbside, waiting for a cab to pass by. I looked at the homeless man sitting near the bus stop and smiled.
I see him here every day, and several times a week, I bring him food from the cafeteria. I have tried to convince him that there are organizations that could help him, but he never seems too interested.
I headed to the market to pick up a few items I needed.
“Hi, Jonathan!” I said to the man at the register. “How have you been?”
“Hi, Jenny! Busy as usual,” he replied. “We need to get more help in here.”
“I’ve noticed you’re getting busier and busier. The area is really growing.”
“It is,” he said, half smiling at me. He looked directly at me and hesitated for a moment. “It’s always nice to see you.”
“You too.” I grinned.
Sometimes I thought maybe he was trying to flirt with me. But then, if he wanted to make a move, he surely would have asked me out by now. I’d been coming in here for a year or more now, routinely several times a week.
He was very handsome—tall, broad chest, with a slight five o’clock shadow beard that he kept nicely trimmed. I had hoped something more would have developed between us by now.
I quickly grabbed what I needed for the next few nights for dinner, then headed back to the register. I stared at him as he helped the woman in front of me.
The morning’s thoughts rushed through my head again. He began ringing up my items.
“Seems like you like to cook?” he asked.
“I do!” I replied.
Our conversation was interrupted by an older man who came by asking Jonathan for help in the office.
Back at home, I sat and ate dinner at the table. There is a large bay window with a view of the city street.
I opened the blinds and gazed outside for a while, watching the usual people who passed by.
There were the professional business people across the street. They seemed to be the perfect couple—both good-looking, smiling and kissing each other goodbye each morning before they went their separate ways to work.
Then there was the elderly woman who fed the stray cats nightly.
Next was the new police officer. He looked a bit older than me, but that uniform definitely made him look sexy.
He had just moved in a few days ago. I liked having him next door—not that I was afraid to be in the condo alone, but certainly having a police officer as a neighbor was nice.
I hadn’t had the opportunity to actually meet him yet.
I readjusted my focus on work for a long while. Eventually, I closed the blinds, went to get into my pajamas, and got into bed.
Tomorrow was sure to be another busy day at work.
Tonight, my mind wandered off with thoughts of the new neighbor!
