It was easy to say no to a selfish, annoying Monica. It wasn’t easy to say no to a nice one.
“Honestly, you might not believe this but you’re my only true friend,” Monica admitted in a soft voice. “I don’t have anyone else to ask.”
Jane knew this was true and that made her feel guilty. Still, she wasn’t thrilled about going on Friday. For some reason she suspected it would come back to bite her somehow. “Couldn’t you go check out the location yourself?”
“I have to interview the woman I’m considering to perform the ceremony. No one else can do that. She’ll want to talk to me as well, I’m sure.”
That was probably true. Jane glanced down at the card. The location wasn’t far from her home. It wouldn’t take long to take a quick tour. “Okay,” she acquiesced on a sigh.
Monica jumped up and clapped her hands with glee. “Thank you! I’m so grateful!” She bent over and gave Jane a strangling hug. Then returned to her seat behind her desk and looking more sober said, “Now, on to business. What projects are we brainstorming today?”
*
By Friday evening, Jane hadn’t exactly grown comfortable with the idea of Monica marrying Jason, but at least she didn’t feel like upchucking every time she thought about it.
Some progress was better than none.
As she drove to the reception hall, she vowed to help make Monica’s wedding as special as she could, nausea or not. Despite her feelings for Jason, or perhaps because of them, she knew Monica and Jason deserved the wedding of their dreams.
It was still semi-light outside when she pulled into the driveway but sundown was quickly approaching. The western sky was covered with brilliant shades of purple, salmony-pink and gold. The eastern sky was already a deep, dusk-blue. A glance at the clock on her dash revealed what she’d already known—she was late. She parked the car and headed inside.
Crisp leaves crunched under her feet. More, bright red and orange, clung to the tree branches arcing overhead from a row of maples lining each side of the walkway. A gentle breeze smelled fresh and earthy as it whirled around her, throwing her hair about her face. She regretted having to go inside, especially since the day had been unseasonably warm. But there was no time to dilly-dally.
She entered the building, marveling at the plush interior, white marble floor, humongous crystal chandelier that looked like it belonged in a Beverly Hills mansion, and followed the signs indicating where the office was located. The door was ajar and she could hear male voices inside. One of them sounded familiar.
Jason?
“My fiancée said she may not make it tonight,” she heard him say. “But if she doesn’t, I believe a friend of hers is supposed to come in her place, her maid of honor.”
She reached up to knock but before her knuckles made contact with the door, it swung open, revealing Jason’s very handsome, very surprised face. His lips curled into a smile and she found herself staring, breathless and dizzy. Their gazes locked. “Hi,” she murmured, feeling totally out of place. She forced her gaze from Jason’s brilliant eyes, so familiar, so warm, and sought out the other inhabitant of the room beyond.
A white-haired gentleman stepped up behind Jason and extended a hand and a friendly smile, “My, my. Is this your blushing bride?” he asked in a deep bass voice. “I’m George Harrington. Nice to meet you.”
She almost forgot which body she was in and hence didn’t deny his assumption right away. Luckily, she remembered before introducing herself as Monica. She leaned forward and reached beyond Jason to shake the gentleman’s hand. “Hello, I’m Jane. Jane Brown, Monica’s maid of honor. Monica couldn’t make it today. She asked me to come in her place.”
As she glanced at Jason, she caught the spark of recognition in his eyes and knew he had remembered her name.
“Jane Brown?” Jason said, offering a handshake.
She accepted, curling her fingers around his wide hand. “Yep, that’s me all right.”
He reached with his second one and fully enclosed her smaller hand between his. His grip was firm yet gentle. His voice was low and husky, unearthing all sorts of naughty memories of when she’d last heard him speak in such a voice. After a kiss. “I’m glad to meet you. I was beginning to think you were a figment of Monica’s imagination.”
Her whole body tingled. She held back a shudder. “I can see why you’d wonder that. She does have an active imagination, that girl.” Jane felt her face heating as Jason’s gaze paused at each of her features.
He chuckled and she relished the sound, willing it to permeate her pores and soak into her soul. She knew she’d missed him but until this moment hadn’t realized how much. Her entire body ached with the need to be closer to him.
Just a little closer. A hug would be nice.
When he released her hand, she wanted to cry.
“I didn’t expect you to be here. I figured you’d be with Monica,” Jane said.
“Oh, damn—darn! Sorry. Should watch my language.” He glanced at the reception hall’s manager. “I forgot I was supposed to go meet with some reverend tonight.”
“You honestly forgot?” Jane asked, not believing his claim. For one, he didn’t sound the least bit sorry.
“No,” he admitted. “You got me. I confess. I had to meet the woman who’d single-handedly accomplished the impossible.”
“I didn’t...” She sensed he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure if she wanted him to continue or not. It was a rather precarious position she’d found herself in, considering her feelings for both Monica and Jason. Being in the middle was getting more complicated by the second.
“You know you did. I just want to say I owe you a thank you,” he said, stuffing both hands in his pants pockets. “I figured if I didn’t say it today it might never be said.”
“Really, you don’t owe me a thing.” She tried to look casual as she shrugged her shoulders. “It was my pleasure.” Wasn’t that the truth! “Monica’s life was...a bit of a mess and she knew it. I’m just glad I was able to help.”
“She rarely listens to anyone,” Jason admitted, his blatant honesty surprising her. Was he looking for an ally? Had Monica changed back to the manipulator she’d once been? He glanced back at the banquet hall manager again. Clearly the gentleman was anxious to get going. “Looks like we need to attend to some other matters at the moment, but promise me we’ll talk later?”
“Sure.” About what? I can’t wait. Well, maybe I can. What I really wish is we could do more than talk, share another one of those kisses...no, I can’t think like that! Bad Jane, bad! Shit, shit, shit!
The banquet hall’s manager urged them forward, leading them down the hallway and through the spacious foyer to a wide staircase. “This way, please.” At the top of the stairs, he paused before a set of double doors. “This is our largest suite. It seats four hundred fifty. Linens, chairs and tables are included in the price.” He pushed open the doors, revealing the room’s posh interior.
It was dazzling. The décor was elegant, fancy without being too garish. But the part Jane liked the best was the wide expanse of windows running the length of one entire wall. Damask draperies framed a breathtaking view of the gold, orange and red fall foliage outside.
“Wow,” was all Jane could manage to utter.
“In the winter we decorate those trees with thousands of white lights. It’s truly magnificent,” the manager said.
“Is it available New Year’s Eve?” Jane asked.
“At the moment, yes. All the other rooms have been booked. This is the only one available.”
“The price?” Jason sounded less than impressed.
“Total, including the meal would be in the twenty-thousand range, depending upon your choice of entrée.”
Jason and Jane both coughed.
Their host didn’t look pleased by their reaction. “You’re talking about four hundred plates, sir. Surely you don’t expect to pay less than forty per plate.”
“Silly me. Will that be a cash ba
r?” Jason asked.
“Yes, but for another five thousand, I can offer a free bar with wine, beer, liquors and soft drinks.”
Jason, looking a little green around the gills, shook his head. “We’ll be in touch.” He headed toward the exit.
Jane did the same.
“I expect the room will be booked by the end of the week,” the manager said, following them.
“We’ll take our chances,” Jason responded over his shoulder as he shuffled down the staircase. He waited at the exit for Jane and pushed the door open for her.
She waited until she got outside before she spoke a word. “It was gorgeous but that price!”
He paused in the front courtyard and turned to face the building. “I refuse to pay that. She’ll just have to understand.”
“I’m sure she will.”
He shook his head and started following a path that bent around the side of the building. “I don’t know about that. She had her heart set on this place.”
“There are others,” Jane followed him. The grounds were absolutely gorgeous and the weather was perfect. They wandered into a cozy, romantic clearing nestled in the center of colorful trees, shrubs and flowers. Private, beautiful, it was the perfect place to steal a kiss.
Too bad she was walking with her friend’s fiancé and not her own.
“I couldn’t get her to even consider anywhere else. This is the only place she’s mentioned since we first started talking about getting married.”
Jane shrugged her shoulders. “Lie. Tell her it isn’t available.”
“No. I can’t do that. Besides, she’d be determined enough to call and check. Then she’d know I was lying.”
“Yeah. I can see her doing that.”
He stopped walking and turned to face Jane, his eyes searching hers. “Maybe I have no business asking this but how did you do it? How’d you get her to listen? I need to know. Heck, my future marriage may count on it.”
How would she explain it without taking sides or making Monica look bad? “It’s a secret. I... Uh, she was in a position where she had no choice.”
“Yeah?” He leaned back against a tree trunk and crossed his thick arms over his chest. “So tell me, Jane Brown, what’s your secret?”
You don’t really want to know my secrets, Jason Foxx! Do you?
There was something in her eyes that enchanted him. For some reason, as he stole as many minutes with her as he could, making whatever excuses necessary to keep her here with him, he didn’t feel like he should—guilty as hell. He was engaged after all, planning his wedding with Monica. But I’m beginning to believe I don’t love her. She’s not the woman I fell in love with.
At the moment all he could think about was listening to Jane speak. He didn’t care about anything else.
Who was Jane Brown?
In a deep, down-in-the-gut sense, he felt like he knew her from somewhere, but he could find nothing familiar about her face, hair, or features. They were soft, feminine, pretty, but not as stunning as Monica’s. Not as flashy or polished. Even so, he found her incredibly attractive. She was like the crisp fall air whirling around them and tossing the leaves about. Fresh, earthy, sensual.
She was nervous, had been since the minute they’d met outside the manager’s office. He could tell by the flush on her face, the way her gaze hopped around.
Why? He sensed she was hiding something, a secret. What could it be?
Her cheeks were deep red now, having stained the charming shade when he’d right-out asked her what her secret was. Her brown eyes, the color of the earth, hid her secret well but occasionally little sparks of something shimmered in their depths. Would she tell him the truth?
“I don’t have any secrets,” she lied.
He wanted to smile, to let her know he couldn’t be so easily fooled, but he didn’t. For one thing, it would draw out the game. He had all night. Monica had told him she had plans with some girlfriends.
He felt her drawing closer before she moved, almost like her spirit had reached toward him before her body did. She shuffled closer, closing the distance between them to less than a foot. Her arms hanging at her sides, she stared down at his feet for several heartbeats before looking up into his eyes again.
Her lower lip trembled and she bit it, making it stain a deep cherry red. He licked his mouth, wishing he could taste her.
“I can’t tell you my secrets.” Her hushed voice barely rose above the sound of the rustling leaves.
“Why not?”
One side of her mouth quirked up into a playful half-smile. “Then they wouldn’t be secrets anymore,” she said as she took a single step backward.
A retreat.
He wasn’t about to let her get away that easily. He unfolded his arms and moved forward, diminishing the distance between them to mere inches. He still wasn’t close enough, but for now he would have to be content. “They’re in your eyes, you know.”
“What?”
He reached forward and stroked the side of her face with his index finger. Her skin was satin smooth and warm. His gaze fixed on her eyes. “Your secrets. I can read them there.”
She turned her head. “If that’s true, then you don’t need me to tell you.”
With his palm, he urged her to look at him again. He ached to find that connection again, when their gazes locked and the veil between them was drawn away. I don’t understand it, but I need to know this woman. I need to touch her, to hear her voice. “But I want to hear you speak it, to say what I see in those eyes.”
Still looking away, she shook her head. “I can’t. It’s... You don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She finally met his gaze and his body warmed as he sensed the arousal she seemed to be trying so carefully to hide...or to douse. “You’re engaged. I shouldn’t... We shouldn’t. Why are you acting like this? Telling me these things about Monica? Shouldn’t you be telling me how much you love her? How excited you are to be marrying her? You don’t sound exactly thrilled, you know.”
“Maybe that’s because I’m not sure how I feel,” he confessed. Guilt-ridden for wanting to touch her but unable to stop himself, he reached toward her.
“Don’t tell me that. You have no idea what I’ve gone through...” She pushed his hand away and hurried back toward the front of the building. “This isn’t fair. You can’t do this to me. I have to think of Monica. I’ve got to go. Please don’t try to stop me.”
He didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the cool night, to both Monica for breaking her trust and to Jane. He couldn’t seem to help himself. For some reason, he felt like he’d just met the woman he’d fallen in love with. But how could that be? Could he love a woman he didn’t know? There had to be a logical explanation.
Chapter Twelve
That moment in the woods tormented Jane both day and night. The entire weekend she thought about it while awake, dreamed about it while asleep. At work on Monday she did her best to act like normal around Monica but it was tough. She’d crossed the line. Regardless of how close she’d been to Jason when she was living Monica’s life, this was different. Now she was Jane.
There was no excuse. Jane had no right to be thinking those kinds of thoughts about Jason.
He had no right to be tempting her either.
One thing was certain—either he was a low-life, cheating bastard or she’d been terribly wrong about one small assumption—he would fall in love with the woman he saw with his eyes.
Which one was it?
Okay, she knew the answer but she didn’t want to accept it. Never had she stolen a friend’s boyfriend. She feared her record was about to be dashed.
That fear amplified when later that afternoon, Monica cornered her in the break room as she was buying a soda from the vending machine. Heart racing, hands shaking, she prepared for the worst—a stream of angry expletives about broken engagements and stolen fiancés.
“How was The Hawthorne?” Monica asked. “Wa
s it as gorgeous as I thought?”
That wasn’t the question Jane had expected. Happy to respond, she said, “If you thought it was phenomenal, then yes. But it was also mega-expensive.”
“Yeah,” Monica said on a sigh. “Jason told me.”
“I...hadn’t expected Jason to be there.”
“He insisted. I didn’t think he’d care where we held the wedding but as it turns out he’s quite the romantic. Wants to pick the location. Isn’t that sweet?” Monica dropped four quarters into the vending machine and punched the button, selecting a bottle of water. The bottle dropped into the chute at the bottom.
Sweet or underhanded, depending upon his motivation. “Yeah.”
Stooping slightly, Monica retrieved her purchase and twisted the top off. “But that doesn’t get you off the hook. I want you to check out every place on my list.” She pointed at Jane with her opened bottle.
“Why not go yourself?”
Monica took a drink then twisted the cap back on and answered, “Jason insisted I let him choose. He wants it to be a surprise.”
Oh no. I’m not liking the sound of this. I need to find a way out. “Then why have me tag along? Won’t he feel like you don’t trust him? Or worse, I’ll tell you?”
“Nope. It was his suggestion. He thought you could give a woman’s point of view.”
Shit!
“Anyway, here’s the place he’s visiting tonight. Six o’clock. That won’t be a problem, will it? I realize it’s short notice, but since it’s a Monday night I figured it would be okay.”
Jane glanced down at the card. This place was local. She couldn’t use driving distance as an excuse. And she knew Monica had firsthand knowledge of her weekly routine. She was trapped.
Then again, maybe it was better this way. Tonight could be an opportunity instead of a liability. She could set Jason straight right now, before things got out of hand. Friday, she’d been caught off guard, unprepared. But tonight, she’d be ready. She’d let him know what a mistake he was making by pursuing her, or flirting with her, or whatever he was doing. Monica was a prize and the wedding must go on. At least if she accomplished that much she would be miserable but content knowing she did the right thing, and life would go on.
Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty) Page 67