Jenna Bush Hager Books Novels & Stories

The fire made her face flush red, which was exceptionally charming. "There are still a lot of things that you don't know about me," Jenna did not even look up as she explained, "When I was in America, I worked hard while studying. During the holidays, I would work in a restaurant. I cleaned the plates, washed and cut the vegetables, and even washed people's clothes. I have done all kinds of work." Jenna said it casually. She didn't feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, but Hansen was dumbfounded. "Why didn't you ask me for money? You could have called your parents. You're their only daughter, I'm sure they can afford to give you money," Hansen said.

It was far enough away from her old life that she could start anew, but close enough that she still felt connected to it. She was a librarian, and she had always been passionate about books. Jenna had always been curious about the world, and she felt like Shadowbrook was the perfect place to explore. She had heard rumors of strange things happening in the town, but she was sure that it was just the locals gossiping. Jenna had always felt different. Growing up, she had always been the odd one out, never quite fitting in. She had always known that there was something special about her, but she had never been able to put her finger on it.

She stood in her shimmering midnight-blue gown, her posture straight, her gaze locked directly into the camera with an intense, unshakeable gravity. "Good evening," Jenna began, her voice calm, resonant, and entirely devoid of fear. "For the past ten minutes, you have listened to the desperate fabrications of a fugitive. Alice Florence is a woman facing multiple international indictments for fraud, attempted murder, and corporate espionage. And tonight, she has chosen to desecrate the memory of a tragedy that changed my life forever." Jenna took a step closer to the camera, her eyes shining with unshed tears, yet her voice remained completely steady.

"Ms. Smith, I've been trying to get that boy to settle down for fifteen years. What makes you think you can succeed where I've failed?" "Because I'm not asking him." "Then what are you doing?" Jenna met her eyes once more, bold and unwavering. "I'm just gonna do what I have to do." She didn't need to explain further than that. She was Jenna fucking smith, and just like she’d always say, whatever shit she finds herself in, she’s getting herself cleaned up from it. And just like always in the last four years, Jenna was ready to save herself. Helena studied her for a long moment. Then, slowly, she nodded.

Which was her normal look so I couldn't tell what was going on. I turned to Mrs. McKenzie. The same Mrs. McKenzie who had run into me in the sex shop down the street and had suggested I get the G-spot vibrator. Her smile was fixed and for some reason it looked like she was avoiding eye contact. Jenna had a Bible in her hand. It was one of those black leather types that was big but not so big that you couldn't put it in a bag. That was the first sign of impending danger. Her cherry complexion and pleasant face were highlighted by her white blonde hair. She didn't have makeup on but would easy turn heads if she was to walk into a bar. Her cream suit gave off an authoritative vibe.

After being seated, a chubby middle-aged woman smiled and surveyed Jenna, " After so many years, Jenna has matured quite a bit." "Used to look like a little girl, now she's grown up." Another auntie with eyes and slim cheeks deliberately asked, "Kenzie, what child did you just say? Could it be that Jenna already has a child?" "Yes, Jenna already has two kids, time flies, we're getting old." Kenzie smiled and said, "Jenna, why didn't you bring the kids over today?" This time, Jenna didn't interrupt Kenzie and let her finish her sentence. Jenna knew very well that from the moment Vivan bumped into her and the child at the kindergarten, the secret could not be kept.

Anna. Jenna Hart was a very bubbly one year old. She would laugh and smile while speaking words no one understood. Whenever I went to the baby’s home, she’d follow me around like I was her real mother, which made me want to stay with her all the time. I watched as she stuck up some blocks, occasionally glancing at me to ensure I didn’t disappear. Poor girl always knew I would at one point or another, and I hated those moments more than anything. If only I had enough money to adopt her. Suddenly a finger touched one of the blocks and the whole thing came toppling down. The little blonde didn’t scream. She just got up and ran to me, abandoning the whole project.

Just fucking talking about everything under the sun, and I’ve never felt more like myself. Jenna lights up, the way she did yesterday talking about her business concept. “Well, that’s the beauty of it. I don’t need anything but a computer and internet connection. I don’t have to carry any inventory or purchase any equipment. I don’t need my own building or storefront. It’s simple.” I nod and write ‘computer’ on the list. “Do you already have a computer?” “Well, sure. I have my old laptop from college.” She waves at the desk, where a MacBook is plugged in.

And then something shifts — something in the filing system at the back of my mind, cross-referencing, connecting a surname I have not thought about in five years to a face I dismissed so thoroughly I had nearly erased it entirely. Kingsley. Jenna. "Hart," I say slowly. "She was Jenna Hart." "She was," Lila says. I turn from the window. The perfect apartment, the perfect view, the carefully constructed evidence of a life going exactly to plan — all of it feels suddenly like a stage set. Two-dimensional. Not quite real. "The secretary," I say. "Yes." "The one from—" "Yes, Vivienne." I sit down. I do not often sit down without choosing to. "She built a company."