Secrets of a Shy Socialite by Wendy S. Marcus Page A

and disreputable no one wants to sink low enough in society’s regard to join you.”
    Justin crossed his arms and nodded. “Not bad, Jerry. Sounds like someone’s developed himself a sense of humor over the past few years.” About damn time.
    “Stay away from her.”
    “No can do.” Justin walked over to Jerry, acting all casual and carefree like the bum Jerry thought him to be. “You see now that she’s back I’m thinking one night in the sack wasn’t near enough. And I plan to use my status as her
babies’ daddy to my full advantage.” Jerry wasn’t the only one who could taunt. “And a great big FYI,”—for your information. “My little security business is something I do on the side.” To earn enough money to keep him in his luxury high rise. “My full time gig is police officer.”
    From Jerry’s surprise he had no idea.
    Good. “That’s right,” Justin said nonchalantly, kicking the toe of his boot against a clump of something lodged in the thick grass. “I’ve taken an oath to uphold the law.” Which is the only reason Jerry wasn’t lying in a bloody ball for the crap he’d put Jena through. “And first thing Monday morning I plan to make use of every investigative and legal resource at my disposal to find out what laws you’ve broken by denying your sister access to her money.”
    Jerry didn’t flinch. But he swallowed.
    Play time over. Now to seal the deal. “Notice I’m planning to hold off until Monday.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Because I think this weekend is all the time I’ll need to come to Jena’s rescue and ease her financial burden. How do you think she’ll show her appreciation? Huh, Jerry?” He elbowed Jerry in his stiff side then rubbed his palms together conniving style. “Maybe she’ll give me the opportunity to knock her up with another set of twins. You think?” Take that you overbearing, condescending jerk.
    Footsteps sounded behind them. Jena ran down the stairs, a stuffed medium-sized duffel bag in one hand and a cloth carryall in the other. “I’m done.”
    “Let me take that for you.” Justin grabbed the duffel, which turned out to be heavier than it looked, a bit surprised she hadn’t sought out a servant to carry it for her. With a few short hours in her presence, Justin had come the realization he’d made a few glaringly incorrect assumptions about Jaci’s homebody, except when out in high society, not as shy as he’d thought twin.
    “Hold on a minute,” Jerry said. “I need to give you something.” He speed-walked toward the porch. “Don’t leave,” he yelled over his shoulder.
    Atta boy. Go fetch Jena the info needed to access her accounts so they could put all this talk of marriage and Thomas what’s-his-name behind them, so she wouldn’t be in a position where she needed to take the job at the urgent care center and could stay home to take care of the twins. Where she belonged.
    Jena looked up at him? “What was that about?”
    Justin shrugged. “No idea.” He carried her bag to the car and placed it on the backseat next to Abbie.
    No sooner did he close the door then he spied Jerald, hurrying back in their direction, too high class to full out sprint, but moving as fast as possible without officially lowering himself to the point of actual running. “Here.” He handed Jena an accordion file folder, panting from his exertion, although he tried to cover it up with an elegant cough. “It’s all in here.” He patted the folder now in Jena’s hands. “Your most recent bank statements, your checkbook, and a snapshot of your investment portfolio from August. You may not remember, but you signed signature cards when you turned eighteen so you can write your own checks.”
    Jena clutched the folder to her chest, looking overwhelmed, relieved, and on the verge of tears. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
    “I’m happy to go over it with you and answer any questions,” Jerry said actually pulling off a caring