Jennifer frowned. "Jonathan, that just isn't fair," she pouted.
Jonathan couldn't help but laugh. "Darling, did you or did you not just tell me yesterday that you were disappointed you hadn't been able to get any work done on your book?"
"Yes," she grumbled.
"And did you or did you not tell me that you had hardly even thought about the book because you were too busy thinking about me?"
"But what makes you think that I won't think about you when you're not here? You know, they do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder," Jennifer countered.
Jonathan leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. "Well, this Hart is very fond of you."
"Oh aren't you clever with your little word games," she said dryly.
"You're the writer, not me, so I'll take that as a compliment. But you're not going to be a writer if you don't actually write," he added, stepping back and giving her a swift pat on the behind. "Now go get to work."
Jennifer was still pouting, and Jonathan found it quite endearing. She really was cute sometimes. And he knew she wasn't actually upset. He was only doing what they both knew she needed, and she didn't begrudge him that.
In truth, however, Jonathan felt much the same as Jennifer about the situation. He did not want to leave without her now or ever. If he could spend every minute of the day with her, he'd be happy. He was going to marry her because he found that everything was better when he was with her.
But when Jennifer had told him that she was feeling guilty for ignoring her book for the last few months, he knew he had to put his own feelings aside to help her. She had said that this new book was a collection of interviews with interesting people with some background research and comments of her own that she would add in. And of the eighteen interviews she had compiled so far, only about six of them were really in a state where she thought they were ready to be part of the book manuscript. The other dozen were in various stages of editing. And she also needed to find her last few interview subjects. It was while she was stalled in that process that she got the contract with the London Herald for her four articles for them. They certainly knew how that turned out. And after nearly seven months in London and now another between New York and LA with Jonathan, Jennifer was now woefully behind on her book.
And so, since Jennifer had told him that he was the reason she was so distracted from her work, Jonathan decided to remove the distraction. They had nothing planned today, which gave them the perfect opportunity for Jennifer to get some work done and for Jonathan and Max to go take care of something that Jonathan had also been putting off. Besides, it would be nice to spend a little time with Max, just the two of them.
"You're still thinking about her, aren't you?" came Max's voice to interrupt Jonathan's thoughts.
Jonathan smiled. They were in the cockpit of Jonathan's small plane—they didn't need the jet for this—and waiting for the safety checks from ground control. Max was right, he had been thinking about Jennifer. "I'm afraid I'm a little obvious," Jonathan admitted.
"Nah, it's good. You should be thinking about her. If every man felt like you do about Miss Edwards before he got married, we wouldn't have so many problems in the world," Max said.
"Did you feel like this before you got married?" Jonathan asked.
Max got a wistful expression on his face. "Sometimes," he replied simply.
Jonathan knew about Pearl, Max's wife from many, many years before Jonathan ever knew him. He knew Max had loved her, but it just wasn't meant to be. Jonathan had learned a lot from Max about women and relationships, and Pearl was a frequent example used in Max's teachings.
The conversation was halted by ground control clearance. Jonathan did his last pre-flight checks and they took off. It wasn't until he reached altitude that he resumed talking to Max.
"You like Miss Edwards, don't you, Max?"
"Sure I do," Max assured him. "Did you have to ask?"
"Well, I never really came out and asked before. Everything happened so fast, and so much has changed. I guess I thought I should check."
Max softened. "Mr. H, you're one in a million. I known you a long time. I seen you grow up. I know all about you mistakes and your successes. But I never seen you so happy as when she's around. She's a terrific lady, and she sure loves you. I been hopin' you'd find someone like her for years."
"You have? You never said," Jonathan noted in surprise.
"I coulda never imagined a lady like Miss Edwards, but here she is. You two go together like bacon and eggs."
Jonathan laughed, "Which one of us is the bacon and which one is the eggs?"
"I don't think that's none of my business," Max answered. "But the way you been since you met her? I dunno, it's like she switched a light on inside you. And I couldn't be happier for you."
"Thanks, Max," Jonathan said sincerely. "That really means a lot."
"And I'll be around as much as you want me to be. I mean, we don't gotta have any repeat of the kitchen in New York or nothin' but you just say the word if I'm ever in the way or you two want to be on your own. I'll find something else to do."
"Maybe for a few hours or a few days," Jonathan agreed, "but Jennifer and I both want you with us. You're the CEO of the house, wherever we are."
"And you think that house is gonna be out here?" Max asked in disdain.
Jonathan was getting ready to land them at a small airstrip just outside of the Joshua Tree National Monument. There was a lot of land available just adjacent to the desert. There were mountains and wide open spaces, and Jonathan had thought it would be perfect for them to build something on.
It stuck in Jonathan's head from the first evening he'd spend with Jennifer—Louise, at the time—that they might one day have a ranch with horses and other animals. They could build a house for them, a barn for the animals, and a guesthouse or two for Max or anyone who came to visit.
"What's wrong with it?" Jonathan asked. He hadn't expected Max to protest the location.
"It's nice with the cactus and trees and all, but we took a plane to get out here from Hart Towers. What're you gonna do when you go back to working in the office again? It would take half the day to drive to Downton LA from here. And what about that new Mercedes you got for Miss Edwards? Where's she gonna drive it around here? I don't think Ferragamo has a place out this way," Max told him.
And Max was absolutely right. Jonathan really had loved the desert, but it certainly had its drawbacks. Maybe he'd have to rethink this. He'd have to talk to Jennifer.
Jennifer, meanwhile, was busy working. At least, that's what she told herself. She told herself she was working on her book, and it was important to go through the creative process.
Right now, the creative process consisted of pacing back and forth through the penthouse with a page from her typewriter balled up in her hands. As she paced, she absently scrunched up the piece of paper and tossed it to herself. She'd been like this for twenty minutes, but she was no closer to getting anything done.
It was sweet that Jonathan had carved out this time for her to work. She knew he only had the very best intentions. And she really did need to work. She'd been away from her book long enough, it was time to get back to it.
But it was just…well…how was she supposed to focus on work when she'd spent the last month in a romantic whirlwind!? Yes, she'd been focused on work when she first met Jonathan. After all, she really had just intended on snagging him for an interview and then be done. Only she'd met him and talk to him and fallen head over heels in love with him. How could anyone think about anything else when they were living a fairytale made real?
Actually, come to think of it, she should ask Jonathan if he'd let her interview him. It obviously hadn't worked out for the London Herald, but maybe it could for her book. It was a collection of interviews with interesting people, and Jonathan was certainly interesting. Self-made millionaire, talented at everything from polo to poker, and an incredible lover to boot. Well, that last part wouldn't make it into the interview. That was just for Jennifer.
Oh, see! She was at it again. Every time she tried to think about work, she found her thoughts drifting to Jonathan. He had said he was leaving for the day so he wouldn't distract her, but she'd known this would happen. She couldn't stop thinking about him, whether he was here or not. And she didn't know where he'd gone or when he'd be back.
But she was supposed to be working. "Oh come on, Jennifer," she growled to herself. "You are not some lovesick teenaged girl mooning over a boy. Get a grip!"
Jennifer was no teenager and Jonathan was certainly no boy, but she was certainly lovestruck. Maybe it would help her focus if she could make him the subject of one of her interviews. That would certainly help her pay more attention to work and not just to Jonathan. She might as well combine them.
Even as she considered that option, however, Jennifer already knew that Jonathan would never go for it. He didn't like interviews or any press about him. The society pages were one thing, those were harmless, but Jonathan did like to keep to himself. And he would never open up for the sake of an interview. Jennifer had no doubt he'd answer every question she ever asked him, just not for an article. And Jennifer knew that. Which was why she wouldn't ask him.
Having gone around in mental circles about all of this, Jennifer finally wore herself down. She'd paced for god knows how long, and the paper she'd been crumpling had gone soft from her abuse of it. Jennifer tossed it in the trashcan and sat down at the writing desk in the living room where she'd set up her typewriter. Beside it were stacks of folders, each one containing an interview and all her notes. Time to get started.
Thankfully, she was able to actually keep her mind on the task at hand, and she did make good progress she could be pleased about. She revised the background story for two of her interviews and made a solid start on notes for a third. She might have done more if her stomach hadn't started gurgling and reminding her that she'd skipped lunch.
Jennifer opened her mouth to call for Max but she stopped herself. Max had gone with Jonathan on whatever errands they had to run. And it was at that moment that Jennifer realized she'd never been alone in this penthouse before. She'd always been with Jonathan or Max before this. How strange.
She resisted the urge to do something reckless like make a mess or break something, but that would be pointless and, frankly, disrespectful. Jennifer might have hated all of the generic, boring décor that covered this penthouse, but it was still Jonathan's home. Their home, until they found a house to call home forever after, at least.
And so Jennifer did not ransack the penthouse and throw out everything she didn't like. Instead, she went into the kitchen. She was hungry and she had to figure something out. Having lived on her own for the last twenty years or so, Jennifer had gotten very good at making do. She wasn't a bad cook, she just didn't have much experience. She could make a sandwich or follow a few simple recipes. Assuming she didn't get distracted and burn something or forget an ingredient. But when she did things right, they turned out well. It was just that she usually would go out to eat when she lived in London or New York, and LA did not have the same kind of walkable dining culture like those other cities. She would have to make do.
The problem with making do here, however, was that this was Max's kitchen. Jennifer didn't want to take something she wasn't supposed to or make a mess or break something. All of that she wouldn't really mind doing to the living room, but not in Max's domain.
"Alright, just find some bread and put it in the toaster. You can do that, Jennifer," she muttered to herself.
As she set off to find the basics, she came across a note on the counter beside the refrigerator.
Miss Edwards, if you get hungry, there's leftovers from last night's dinner on the second shelf in the fridge. All you gotta do it take the medium pan from the cupboard under the counter to the right of the sink and put the food in there and stick it on the stove on medium heat for about fifteen minutes. Make sure you stir so it don't burn. –Max
Jennifer smiled. Even when he wasn't here, Max was taking care of her. She would heat up the leftovers, and that would work fine. It was easy to follow Max's instructions, and she was grateful he'd told her exactly where to find things and what to do. And any idiot could reheat leftovers on the stove. All it took was fifteen minutes.
Once everything was on the stove and getting heated, Jennifer was satisfied that she did what had to be done. She had fifteen minutes before she could eat, so she went over to the phone by the kitchen door and dialed the familiar extension.
And everything went just fine, chatting with Aunt Renee and discussing the upcoming engagement party and the progress with the wedding plans. Everything was just fine until Jennifer smelled burning.
Any idiot could reheat leftovers, but only Jennifer could burn them to the bottom of the pan.