by Tamryn Ward
“I honestly feel like—”
Finally within reach of safety, she opened the door then turned to face him. It was now or never. She had to convince him that it was Monica he loved, no matter how much it killed her.
“Just stop it,” she said in as stern a voice as she could muster. “You know how much this would hurt her, don’t you? You have to stop it now. I haven’t known you for long but I get the impression you’re not the low-down woman-chaser you’re acting like at the moment. Of course, I’ve been wrong about those kinds of things before. Just tell me you’re not a player who’s going to propose to a woman one day then seduce her best friend the next, are you? Because if you are, then Monica and I need to have a long talk.”
“No, of course I’m not. I just need to know—”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that. Let’s get back to focusing on what we came here to do—choose a venue for your wedding.” She made sure to emphasize the last word in that sentence before continuing, “I’m willing to forget all the other stuff if you promise not to mention it again.”
“But I can’t—”
“Okay, Jason. It’s your decision. I’m leaving. Choose your banquet hall on your own. I won’t let this…whatever it is…continue another minute.” She sat, slammed the car door and started the car, ignoring Jason’s persistent rapping on the window. Not allowing herself to glance his way, she tapped the horn to warn him to move away from the car then put it into reverse, backing out of the parking spot.
As she drove through the parking lot, she peeked in the rearview mirror.
He was stooped, crouching low to the ground, holding a foot in his hands. His head was tipped down, his forehead resting on a bent knee.
I ran him over? Damn it! Why didn’t he move?
Terrific! Now, she was not only guilty of fiancé-stealing but also assault with a thousand-pound—or thereabouts—racy, red, sporty coupe.
Chapter Thirteen
Over the next several weeks, Jason did what was right—he kept his distance from Jane Brown and focused on planning his wedding and nursed his terribly bruised foot. Luckily, Jane had just bumped the outer side and hadn’t broken any bones.
Thanks to Monica’s wish for a New Year’s Eve wedding, there were plenty of details to get in order in a short period of time. While Monica took care of most of them, he was still busy with the few items she’d entrusted into his care.
Yes, being busy was a good thing. It left him little time to wonder about Jane, where she was, what she was doing. Who she was with.
He had no explanation for why he felt so close to her right from the moment they’d first met. He’d never felt that way about someone before, not even Monica. At first, he’d suspected Monica and Jane had somehow joined forces to trick him. But now, as he and Monica settled into the comfort of a stable but uninspiring relationship, he began to doubt that had happened.
One thing he didn’t doubt—it was frustrating, unnerving how thoughts of Jane came up at the most inopportune times, like during dinner dates with Monica. Fortunately, Monica didn’t seem to notice his straying attention. If she did, she was uncharacteristically quiet about it.
He struggled night and day with the fear of marrying the wrong woman, of making a mistake and forcing Monica to pay the price.
Yes, they were getting along fine. The dramatic change of almost a month ago now had mellowed into something a little more stable. Monica was still Monica. She hadn’t shaken all her weaknesses. But she’d gained a handful of new strengths. He respected her for the growth she’d shown. He admired her creative mind and go-getting attitude regarding her career. It was obvious Monica Starke would someday be a huge success.
But was admiration and respect a strong enough foundation for marriage? God, he hoped so.
He felt he must keep his uncertainties to himself, at least for a bit longer, until he was sure they weren’t just a case of pre-wedding jitters. Of course, it didn’t help that he had no one he trusted to talk to.
He bet Jane would be a good listener.
“Honey, what’s wrong? You look like you’d rather be a million miles away than celebrating our anniversary,” Monica asked, instantly reminding him of where he was and what they were celebrating.
One year. They’d had their first date almost one year ago. It seemed like both yesterday and a lifetime ago.
“Nothing, babe. I’m fine. Just tired. Jet lag,” he offered the excuse he knew he’d recently started overusing. The past few weeks he’d taken several business trips to Europe and one trip to the Orient. To his credit, the excuse was somewhat warranted. He normally traveled that much in a year’s time, not a month. He’d recently found a new outlet for his goods. However, this particular retail outlet was frequented by very selective customers who had an eye for the rare. He’d been forced to travel to find pieces unique and expensive enough to capture their interest.
He’d profited quite nicely. At least Monica’s wedding wouldn’t put him in the hole.
“You need to stop traveling so much,” she said, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. “I know this wedding is putting a lot of pressure on you. I feel a little guilty.”
“Don’t. It’s your big day. Every woman deserves to have the wedding of her dreams.”
Her smile was genuine. “You’re such a sweetheart. That’s why I’m marrying you, you know.” She pushed her still-full plate away and audibly sighed. “I’m stuffed. Can’t eat another bite.”
“I’m just a working schmuck, nothing special.” He didn’t say a word about Monica’s uneaten food. Recently, he’d learned Monica’s eating habits were not a safe topic of conversation.
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
The waiter slipped Jason the check then silently stepped away.
“Did you want anything else, babe? Dessert maybe?”
“Oh, no. I’m fine. Want to make sure I fit in my dress. Only a little over ten weeks. I can’t believe it’s coming so quickly.”
“Me neither.” He filled the leather folder with enough cash for the bill plus a nice tip and set it on the edge of the table.
“Did you make the reservations for the honeymoon?”
“All set.”
“I can’t wait. I’ve always dreamed of going to Germany. It’ll be so romantic.”
“Yeah.” He returned his money clip to his pocket and drained the remaining champagne from his glass.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight. Are you sure it’s just jet lag?”
“Yep. Are you ready to go?”
“In just a minute.” She finished off her champagne then stood and let him help her into her coat. Her diamond ring flashed brilliantly, the muted overhead lights reflecting off the facets as she reached her arm behind her back and slid it into her coat sleeve. As they walked through the restaurant’s dim interior, he caught all the appreciative glances she collected from both male and female diners.
Going out with Monica was like going out with a local celebrity.
He had no doubt there were dozens of guys who would love to be in his shoes. But that did nothing to ease his doubts.
After dropping Monica off at her place, he shut off his cell phone and stopped at the bar down the street for one last drink before turning in. A trendy hotspot full of Metro Detroit’s up and coming. Jason liked to stop in occasionally for a beer and some wings.
Jason had no way of knowing Jane Brown would be there tonight but the minute he saw her, he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave without speaking with her.
He heard the bartender’s jovial greeting as he hurried past the bar, but he didn’t slow down. His heart pounded in his chest as his gaze took in every detail of her clothing, her hair, her face.
The more he saw, the more beautiful she was in his eyes.
In the bar’s warm, mellow golden light, her hair was a shiny, deep mahogany. Smooth and straight, it hung over her shoulders, reflecting the light of the candle
on the table. Shorter pieces framed her face, making her eyes look very large. Doe eyes.
Her makeup was soft, her lips a muted red, just deep enough to emphasize their fullness. Her eyes sparkled as she chatted with a woman sitting in the chair next to her at the round table. As he drew nearer, he noticed how the deep V of her red top showed just enough cleavage to stir his interest.
Her friend noticed him before Jane did. He didn’t miss her questioning stare as he stepped up to their table. Nor did he miss her obviously approving smile.
“Hi,” the woman said in a low voice.
Most likely curious, Jane followed her friend’s gaze, halting when she saw him. “Hi,” she said in a cold tone that was clearly meant to scare him off.
“Hello, Jane. I swear I didn’t come here to find you. But now that I have, I owe you an apology.”
“Apology accepted.”
Clearly surprised by Jane’s behavior, the other woman gave Jason an apologetic smile then leaned closer to whisper in Jane’s ear.
“Sorry,” Jane said. “I’m being rude. Jason, this is Lori. Lori, this is Jason, Monica’s fiancé.”
“Nice to meet you,” Lori said. “Won’t you join us? Where’s Monica?”
“She decided to turn in early. I’d love to join you, but only if it’s okay with Jane. I’d like to buy you ladies a drink.”
“Actually, we’re meeting someone here,” Jane mumbled.
“We are not. Jane, where are your manners tonight?” Lori shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jason. I don’t know what got into her all of a sudden. Please, have a seat.”
Jason looked to Jane for some kind of reaction. She didn’t give him much encouragement to join them but her expression didn’t exactly scare him off either. “Thank you,” he said as he pulled up a nearby chair and sat. “What’ll you ladies have?” He glanced over his shoulder, looking for a waitress.
“A glass of white wine for me, thanks,” Lori answered.
“Nothing for me, thanks. I’m fine,” Jane said.
After waving down a waitress, Jason noted Jane’s empty glass but didn’t push the issue. She wasn’t about to make it easy on him. But that was okay. He’d taken the best Monica had to offer over the past year. He had a feeling what Jane Brown could dish out would pale in comparison.
Content for the moment to sit tight and weather out the Jane storm, he ordered a beer for himself and a glass of wine for the chatty woman on his left. While Lori talked his ear off, Jane remained quiet and withdrawn. She didn’t seem to be angry or go out of her way to be difficult. She was simply…distant. That was the best word he could come up with.
When the waitress delivered Jason’s beer and Lori’s wine, Jane ordered a beer for herself and paid the waitress cash.
Although Jason could have easily been offended by an action that could be seen as rude, he wasn’t. She had accepted his apology. She wasn’t obligated to accept a drink from him. She was being polite but not over-friendly as she watched him chatter with her friend.
She drank her beer very fast, draining it within minutes of receiving it. In the dimly lit room, he could see the start of an alcohol-induced flush stain her cheeks.
Lori filled his ears with friendly banter about jobs and houses, cars and nightclubs while Jane added an occasional comment. As she drained a second then a third beer, the slight pink turned to a deeper red.
He hoped she wasn’t driving home tonight.
“I need to go to the ladies room,” she said, sliding out of her chair and standing on wobbly legs. She gripped the table to steady herself. “Be right back.”
He found her slightly rumpled, clumsy appearance adorable.
“Are you okay? I’ll go with you,” Lori offered. She motioned toward Jason to stay put with an index finger, grabbed Jane’s elbow and half-led her, half-carried her toward the rear of the bar. She returned a few minutes later without Jane. “Jane’s had a little too much to drink. She’s fine but we should probably go. The problem is, she was our designated driver. She never drinks. I never would have thought… Anyway, I’ve had too many to drive too.”
“Not a problem. I can call a cab for you,” he offered.
“That’ll take forever. You only had one beer and that was a while ago. Couldn’t you drive us home? Jane and I can come back for her car tomorrow. Please? I’ll pay for gas.”
“Sure.”
“Good. I’ll go collect Jane from the ladies’ room and meet you outside.”
“Okay. Do you need some help?”
“No. She can walk. She’s just a little unsteady.” Lori smiled. “I’ve never seen her drunk before. Heck, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her drink alcohol. She won’t even touch cough medicine with alcohol in it. Now I’m beginning to see why. You wouldn’t believe the stuff she’s saying. She’s hilarious. I’m going to have to get her to do this again sometime. Oh, and make sure you drop me off first. You’ll want to hear what she has to say to you without me there.” She gave him a knowing wink then walked back toward the bathroom.
He was left wondering exactly what a potent truth serum, like alcohol could be with some people, would bring out of Jane Brown. He had a feeling he’d find out very soon.
After paying his tab, he went outside and drove his car up to the front entrance. Jane was half-draped across Lori as they stood, or rather swayed, next to the security guard positioned at the door.
Jason got out to help them both into the car. Jane settled into the front passenger seat and tipping her head back, closed her eyes. Jason eyed the unfastened seat belt then looked for Lori who had already secured herself in the backseat.
“Jane, you need to buckle up,” he said before rounding the front of the car and getting into his seat.
She didn’t move.
“Jane, you need to wear your seat belt,” he repeated as he got in and fastened his own.
Still no reaction.
Either she was going to ride without a seat belt or he was going to have to fasten it around her.
“Okay. I’m going to do it for you then,” he warned. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, just buckle it!” Lori said from the backseat. “She’s probably passed out.”
After unclipping his, he leaned way over to reach for the shoulder strap. That put him in a very interesting, though somewhat painful, position.
Nose-to-nose with an intoxicated, sleeping Jane Brown was a temptation hard to resist. Her breath warmed his lips as she slowly exhaled. He wanted to kiss her so bad his whole body ached, especially when the corners of her mouth lifted into a hint of a sleepy smile. Was she still asleep or was she messing with him?
“Jane?” he whispered.
The smile broadened. Her eyes still closed, she lifted her arms and looped them around his neck. “Jason,” she said in a low voice that was like a soft caress over his body. “You came back for me.” She pulled him closer and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.
He stiffened, not sure if she was aware of what she was doing. Jason Foxx never took advantage of drunk women, no matter how beautiful and sexy they were. “Came back?”
“You went on a trip, silly. Remember?”
“Huh?” he asked, thoroughly confused. “I just went outside to get the car.” Straining, he grasped the buckle and pulled the seat belt over her chest. With his urging, it clicked into place next to her hip.
“She’s talking in her sleep,” Lori explained. “Last time I heard her do that was when she was sick one time and took too much Nyquil. Just wait ‘til later. It’ll get better. Last time she started talking about little green men in spaceships visiting her in the middle of the night. That girl has one active imagination.”
“Wow.” He started the car and let it warm up for a few minutes.
“You know, until now, I’d forgotten all about that night. I was so tempted to tape-record her, especially when she denied everything the next morning. To this day she thinks I’m lying.”
&n
bsp; “I believe you.”
“Thanks. That’s one person who doesn’t think I’m totally nuts.”
“Well, I didn’t say that,” he joked. He put the car in gear and drove across the parking lot. “Which way?” he asked before turning onto the street.
“Turn right. I live a few miles down the road. Not too far.”
“At least you don’t have far to go home,” he said, making small talk.
“Yeah. I planned it that way. When I’m loaded I get terribly carsick. Wanted to make sure I didn’t mess up Jane’s cute new car. It’s a beauty, isn’t it? I nearly died when she told me she’d bought a new car. And her hair and clothes are all different too.”
“Really?” Had Jane also done a complete one-eighty like Monica?
“Yep. Oh. Turn left here.”
“Shoot.” Caught in the wrong lane and surrounded by cars on all sides, he missed the turn and had to go down several blocks and turn around.
“Sorry. My bad. Anyway, I didn’t hear from her for a week or two and then next time I saw her, she’d been magically transformed.”
“Really?” He was repeating himself, but something about Jane’s “magical” transformation was fishy. “How long ago was that?”
“A while back. September, maybe.”
Same time as Monica’s. “How has she changed?”
“She used to dress…well…how can I say this? Uh, very plain. Her clothes didn’t fit her well at all. They were all dark, dull, did nothing for her. Sort of frumpy. Her hair was plain too. Usually just pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. And you should have seen the car she drove.”
“Oh yeah? Bad?”
“Rust on four wheels. I’ve tried to convince her to buy a new one but she said she couldn’t afford a new car. Now, out of the blue she can. I wonder if she’s moonlighting somewhere…” She whispered the last sentence conspiratorially.