Free Whirlwind by Robin DeJarnett Page A

to understand that he really did only want to dance—nothing else,” I said quickly, ending Beth’s story before she got to the part when I pulled my pepper spray on Chase by accident.
     
    “Sounds like he deserved it,” Dean’s wife murmured.
     
    I shook my head. “It was a very long time ago, and it wasn’t as bad as it sounds. Mitch is a great guy. Even Ann agrees I overreacted.”
     
    That Ann knew about Mitch’s antics pulled the woman up short. I didn’t have to be a mind reader to see she’d been planning to go straight to the bride with this little tale.
     
    “You were the first one to apologize,” Beth added, finally understanding the disapproval on both Dean’s and his wife’s faces.
     
    “ You apologized?” the woman asked, her question more like an accusation.
     
    “Like I said, my reaction was a little over the top. I sent him a get-well card and a little gift.”
     
    I’d woken up the next morning panic-stricken. What if Mitch called my editor and had me fired? I was supposed to write about assault and battery, not commit them. I’d been convinced I’d ended my career on my very first assignment. Thankfully, Mitch tracked me down and offered his own apology a day later.
     
    “Tell them what you gave him,” Beth demanded. Her lips puckered, waiting for me to finish the story. When I didn’t answer fast enough, she bounced in her seat. “Mel sent him a bag of frozen peas!”
     
    Like a spell being broken, relieved laughter rippled around the table.
     
    “I’ve heard they’re better than an ice pack,” I added with a shrug.
     
    Seizing the opportunity to change the subject, I drove the conversation with short, interview-style questions while we finished the meal. The Trojans boasted they’d been accepted into the graduate biology program and made some crack about looking for participants for their upcoming pheromone experiment.
     
    Ann’s cousin and his wife were conversant in a much wider range of topics. When the subject of jobs came up, Dean passed me his card.
     
    I politely took it, not sure why he, an internet consultant, would be giving it to me.
     
    “I have several clients in the online news business,” he said. “When you head into the job market, I can put you in touch with some good people.”
     
    “Wow, I don’t know what to say.” I’d just met the man and he was ready to recommend me for a job?
     
    “You obviously know how to hold your own, so I doubt you’ll have any trouble finding work,” he said. “But should you need anything, feel free to give me a call.”
     
    I fished out my last homemade business card and gave it to him. “Thank you.” I was expecting an offer for a fall internship any day now, but if that fell through, Dean could be a lifesaver.
     
    He pocketed my card after a quick inspection.
     
    Beth nudged me and gave a thumbs up.
     
    I stifled my grin and turned my attention toward the front of the room. Again. More often than I’d intended my eyes had drifted to the bridal table. Throughout dinner, I’d told myself I was checking on Mitch, but somehow I always ended up staring at Jason. Engaged in a deep discussion with Chase and Linda, he rarely acknowledged Tricia, much to my delight. She was fuming from the lack of attention.
     
    Desperate, Tricia tipped the last of her champagne onto Jason’s hand. He nodded to her but turned away quickly, extracting his hand from her napkin.
     
    Wiping his hands on his own napkin instead, Jason scanned the crowd.
     
    He’s looking for me! Fighting the irrational, hopeful voice in my head—and the very nerdy urge to wave—I watched him inspect the tables one by one.
     
    The moment he saw me, his eyes brightened, catching me in their spotlight. His sly smile sent a delicious tremor through me. Told you!
     
    We stared at each other, locked in a silent closeness that excluded the roomful of people around us. When he broke our connection, I gasped for air, unaware I’d been