By the time I made it to her, she’d disappeared inside the building and was holding the door open from the shadows. It closed behind me and there she was.
Jane in cut-off jean shorts, a red-and-black plaid shirt tied at the waist, and red and black sneakers. Long hair in a messy half-bun-ponytail thing that spilled all over the place. Barely any makeup.
I wanted to wrap her shapely tan legs around my waist and fuck her into next week.
“You’re a mess.” She was a mess. It didn’t mean she was any less beautiful.
She made a face. “Is that what you came here to tell me? I’m working.”
“Show me around.” I moved past her, heading out of the short entryway and into the massive space. There were several soundstages inside.
A hand gripped me by the arm, and I glanced over my shoulder as Jane pressed a finger to her lips. I realized they were filming. A very famous actor was in the middle of delivering a line to another very famous actor. My eyebrows rose. I’d never been on a film set before. It was kind of interesting.
The soundstage they were on was made to look like a New York penthouse apartment. It was amazing how realistic it was, and it occurred to me that it was partly Jane’s doing. She was the art director.
Another tug on my arm wrenched me from watching the scene play out. Jane gestured silently for me to follow her, and I shot a look at the actors before going after her. We disappeared out of the hangar into the back of the building.
“Was that Reesa Orland and Jack Sheen?” I asked Jane’s back as she marched down the white hallway.
“Yeah.” She stopped at a door, pushed it open, and gestured for me to go through first.
I smirked and waved my hand for her to precede me.
Jane quirked a brow. “You’re being a gentleman now?”
“No. Walking in first gives you my back. Wouldn’t want you to stick another knife in it.”
She huffed, anger flickering in those pretty eyes.
I followed her into the room and shut the door behind us.
Taking in the space, I reckoned there was an office buried under all the props. “So, this is what you do, huh?”
“Small talk? Really?”
“No, not really.” I held out my hand. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“So that when I have plans we need to enact, I don’t have to chase you down.”
With a beleaguered sigh, Jane pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “Number.”
“Give it to me.”
“I’m not an idiot, Jamie. You’re not getting my phone. Just give me your number.”
“Were you always this paranoid?”
“Not until my ex-boyfriend bribed my neighbor to sublet her apartment to him so he could plot his asinine and completely uncalled-for revenge against me.” She smiled sweetly. “On that note, has anyone suggested therapy?”
“Ah, sweet Jane, I really am enjoying getting to know this side of you.” I threw her a dirty look before I rhymed off my number. Almost immediately my cell rang in my jeans pocket.
“Now you have my number.”
I quickly saved her number to my contact list.
“Is that it?” Jane asked, leaning against a cluttered desk. “Or was there something else you needed?”
Seeing photographs on the desk, I realized this was Jane’s office. I ran my eyes over her legs as I brushed past her. “That’s a loaded question.”
“Stop, I’m blushing,” she replied dryly. “What are you doing?”
I’d picked up one of the two framed photos—a photograph of Jane and her friend Cassie from art college. It looked like it was taken while Jane was still in school. I tried, and failed, not to notice how sad her smile was in the photo. “What happened to Cassie?” I asked, even though I couldn’t take my eyes off my ex in the photo. Were we still together when this photo was taken? Was it before or after she ghosted me?
“You’re telling me you don’t know?”
I grinned as I put the frame down. I liked that I had her all worked up and worried about what I knew and didn’t know about her life. “I actually don’t. Last time you talked about her, she was shacking up with some older guy.”
“She married that older guy. They moved to Florida. They have a kid now.” I heard the slight hint of melancholy in Jane’s voice.
“You miss her,” I surmised.
Jane stiffened and shrugged.
“When did she leave?”
“Right after college.”
Leaving Jane alone with no real friend until Asher. What had happened to their little art crew? “And Devin?” I looked away, perusing a shelf of props so she wouldn’t see the curl to my lips. I’d hated that gangly prick and the way he was always ogling Jane.
There was a slight hesitation, and it brought back our conversation years ago. Something had happened with that guy. As much as I didn’t believe it at the time, I knew better now. Jane had cheated on me.
I could feel my heart hammering harder in my chest.
“We stopped being friends a long time ago,” she said, her tone weirdly emotionless. “Just a little before you made it clear you didn’t trust me or want me in your life anymore, he attacked me at a house party.”
I whipped around, blowing past the outright lie of “you made it clear you didn’t trust me or want me in your life anymore” to the latter. “He what?”
Indignation and something like dark satisfaction mingled in her eyes as she glared at me. “No, Jamie, I didn’t cheat on you with Devin. He assaulted me in a bathroom when he was drunk. Thankfully, Cassie and I had taken self-defense classes. I got away from him.” She retold the story like it’d had no emotional impact on her, but I was coming out of my fucking skin. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel bad about not being there for me.” She huffed at herself. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about it. I reported it to the police.”
As I tried to shove out the images my imagination was putting together, of that lanky, emo little fuck forcing himself on Jane, I shook my head. “I didn’t know.” I took a step toward her. “By assaulted … you mean?”
“Not rape. He kissed me and wouldn’t stop. I had to physically make him stop.”
My stomach roiled at the thought. “What happened?”
“I just told you.”
“No, what happened to him?” I snapped impatiently.
“Slap on the wrist.”
That fucking fucker!
“But he became a pariah at school with our friends.” She shrugged. “He transferred. I never saw him again.”
Silence fell between us as I turned away, suddenly playing the memory of her last visit before she broke it off. Is that why she never came back? Because I accused her of cheating when that piece of shit had attacked her? Something crushed down on my chest.
Okay, she had every right to be pissed at me for that.
But she should have talked to me.
If she’d come to me and told me that’s why she was ending things, I would have apologized. I would have promised I’d do better.
Listen to yourself, groveling to her in your fucking imagination.
Jane ended things without having the decency to do it to my face. End of story.
Still, I made a mental note to find out what had happened to Devin. Wouldn’t want his life to be too comfortable these days after sexually assaulting my girlfriend.
Ex-girlfriend.
“So, I don’t imagine you came here to talk about my old college friends and enemies.” Jane broke the silence. “Why are you here?”
Pulling my shit together, I turned to face her again. “Ethan Wright.”
“The cop?”
“The cop.” The shit stain who had whispered in my ear the night of my arrest, making it clear he was working for Foster Steadman. That only became clearer when I started investigating him. “I’m pretty sure he’s taking bribes from all sorts. But I need more evidence I can hand over to th
e right people. Because he’s a shiesty fuck, he’s also paranoid. He’ll recognize me, and he’d suspect a woman as beautiful as you coming on to him.”
Jane raised an eyebrow.
“His partner is Lincoln Gaines.” I pulled out my phone and brought up the photograph to show her. Jane gazed down at the good-looking cop. “As far as I can tell, he’s clean.” I eyed her carefully. “He’s also single.”
Jane’s eyes met mine.
We were standing so close, I could see the specks of gold in them. Gold that flared with understanding. “You want me to get to know Lincoln Gaines?”
I nodded.
She scowled. “How well do you want me to get to know him?”
Before I’d walked into this office, I had no qualms about asking Jane to throw herself at this guy. I wasn’t talking sex. Just flirting and some kissing if she had to. On the back of her Devin confession, however, I couldn’t help but feel like a prick. “You don’t have to do it,” I said, my voice too gentle.
Jane harrumphed. “You going soft on me already?”
Brat.
“Fine. You have to do it.”
“I’m not having sex with a stranger for this, Jamie. That’s too far.”
That thought was more than a little nauseating. “Who said you needed to have sex with him? Flirt with him, go on a few dates, and maneuver things so you’re spending time with his friends.”
“With Ethan.”
“Exactly. You can be where he is. Watch what he’s doing. Maybe even get a hold of his phone.”
She considered this. And my heart raced like hell. Say no, a little voice whispered at the back of my mind.
“Okay, I’ll do it. How do we start this?”
I shoved my phone back in my pocket. “Wright and Gaines frequent a nightclub in downtown LA on their night off. That’s tomorrow night. You’ll make sure Gaines doesn’t leave the club without your number.”
“And where will you be?”
At the club, making sure no one touched her without her permission. “I’ll be there too, making sure you don’t fuck up.”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead.
However, the longer we stared at each other, the more the urge grew to kiss the attitude right out of her. “You like this, then?” I blurted out, gesturing around the room. “Miss Art Director.”
Jane sighed heavily. “It’s not what I intended to do with my life. I like things quieter than this. But I can’t say I hate it.”
“Why this?”
Her expression was incredulous. “Why do you think, Jamie?”
I frowned, not getting it.
“I needed an ‘in.’ This is Foster Steadman’s world, and I didn’t know how else to infiltrate it. So, I asked Nick to get me a job—he got me a job as a runner for the art department. Things escalated from there.”
Sweat dampened my palms as I remembered her conversation with Asher in his car. It was true. All this time she had been trying to find a way to bring that bastard down. I didn’t know how to feel about it.
“I loved her.” Tears glimmered in Jane’s eyes now. “I wanted him to pay.”
Trying to fight back the emotion she incited, I chuckled. “My bloodthirsty little Doe.”
She cut me a hard look. “I stopped being your anything a long time ago.” She marched over to the door and threw it open. “Text me the time and place for tomorrow. I have to get back to work.” She stalked off, leaving me alone in her office.
I stopped being your anything a long time ago.
She could be callous when she wanted to be.
Ignoring the ache in my chest, I moved back to her desk and picked up the second photo frame. It was a photo of Jane, Skye … and me.
My fingers tightened around the frame, a sense of satisfaction moving through me.
Maybe deep down, Jane Doe still had feelings for me.
Chapter 23
JANE
* * *
Between the chartreuse dress and gold tones in my eyeshadow, my eyes appeared to be light green rather than hazel green. The body-con dress had a simple silhouette—thin straps and a sweetheart neckline, and it hit mid-thigh. It hugged my every curve, and admittedly the vibrancy of the color worked nicely against my tan skin. Asher had convinced me to buy the daring dress when we were on Rodeo one day. It was the most expensive item in my wardrobe, and I’d never worn it because I always thought it was too sexy for any of the events I attended with him.
Tonight felt like the right night to wear the dress, and I’d paired it with my sexiest gold strappy heels.
“I could come over and look after you if you’re feeling sick,” Asher offered as I gave myself a final once-over. He was on speakerphone, my phone on my bed.
Lying to Asher was my least favorite thing in the world. I winced as I grabbed a gold clutch out of my closet. “You know, I think I just want to go to bed early. But thank you.”
“No problem, babe. If you’d take me up on my offer and move into this too-big-for-me home by the beach, I wouldn’t have to worry about you being on your own when you’re sick.”
I smiled sadly as I slumped on the bed. “I thought you didn’t need to hide behind me anymore?” Or was it the other way around?
“I don’t. But I like you close.”
I laughed. “I thought you wanted me to date?”
“I do. I do. I just don’t like the idea of you being sick by yourself.”
If I moved into Asher’s Malibu home, people would definitely assume we were together. However, the commute into LA—I couldn’t do that every day. “The commute would kill me.”
“Well, I could buy a place in the hills.”
“And be closer to dear old Dad?” He wasn’t buying a house just so I didn’t have to commute to the studio.
“Right.”
“Asher, I like my apartment. I’m fine. I’m going to get an early night and hopefully feel better in the morning.” I could feel my cheeks burning with my lie. “I’m off to bed. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Guilt joined the kaleidoscope of butterflies in my belly as we hung up. I’d been avoiding my best friend because I didn’t want to lie to his face. Having Jamie in my life was tumultuous, and I knew I couldn’t hide the effect his presence had on me from Asher.
Still, I couldn’t avoid my friend forever. It wasn’t fair to him. Especially when he was going through so much upset with his parents’ divorce.
Determined to be a better friend in the morning, I reluctantly pushed aside thoughts of Asher and tried to focus on the night ahead.
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. My heels clicked against the hardwood floor as I walked down the hall and into the main living room toward the door. Palms a little clammy, I took in calming breaths to slow my racing heart. The attempt failed miserably.
Pulling open the door, I found Jamie slouched in the doorway, as if he was bored already. There was no change in his usual uniform of T-shirt, jeans, and boots. Why? Because he didn’t need to dress up for a club. He was sexy, and he knew it.
Bastard.
“Ready to go?” I asked, stepping outside and forcing him out of the doorway. I reluctantly gave him my back as I locked my apartment.
When I turned around, the boredom was suddenly absent from his expression. His eyes were on my shoes. Slowly, they traveled upward. By the time he made it to my face, my skin was hot and I was agitated.
Jamie stared resentfully at me.
Flustered, I brushed past him. “You said dress for a nightclub.”
His cold silence followed me downstairs.
I’d never been so glad in my life to escape a car.
When Jamie dropped me off a street over from the club, I practically threw myself out of the Porsche. At first, he wouldn’t even talk to me as we drove into the city. Then he started talking to me like I was an idiot.
“Don’t make it obvious you’re watching Wright.”
Well, of course not.
“Don
’t come on strong with Gaines either. Wright might see and get paranoid.”
Commence eye rolling.
“This isn’t going to be over in one night. This could take weeks.”
No, really? I thought I’d just snap my fingers or wave my magic wand and find evidence against Wright in the first ten minutes.
There was no point responding to any of his “advice,” especially when he said it in that patronizing tone. Jamie was always a little impatient with people he deemed morons. I’d just never been one of them before.
The line to get into the club was long. Unfortunately, that cliché shallow attitude depicted in movies and television really existed and “pretty people” got to jump the line. Problem was, there were a lot of “pretty people” in LA. However, Asher had taught me a thing or two over the years. It wasn’t just about how you looked, but how you carried yourself. As an introvert, having attitude wasn’t easy for me. However, if I was to be successful at convincing Lincoln Gaines that I wanted to date him, then I needed to find the actor within.
I sashayed past the line of waiting clubbers, wearing a small smirk as I neared the doormen. Their eyes moved to me, drifting down my body. When they met my gaze, I smiled, showing my dimple.
“Don’t stop at the door, as if you know you need permission to enter,” Asher’s voice filled my head. “Smile, say hello to the doormen, but keep on walking in as if you know you’re hot enough to be there and not letting you in is not an option.”
“Hey, guys.” I kept strolling toward the door as if it were my God-given right.
“Hey, gorgeous,” one of them replied, grinning as I strutted by.
And right into the club without them stopping me.
Worked like a charm.
As soon as I was inside, my smile dropped.
The world and its shallow preoccupation with looks made me truly sad sometimes. But such was life, and I couldn’t do anything to change it. What I could do was get tonight over with.
I’d never been to this club, but it was packed. Purple and blue lights gave the place an atmosphere without it being too dark. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, one over a dance floor packed with people. As I moved along the bar, I saw another chandelier suspended above a seating area. Leather, button-back booths edged the walls with tables centered in front of them. And in the middle of the seating area, the same style booths made rectangles—two U-shaped booths facing each other with two small tables, and a gap on either side so you and your friends could enter the cozy space.
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