This Crazy Little Thing (A New Adult Billionaire Romance)

by Tamryn Ward

  Monica took a second drink. “Well, I wanted to have something a little stronger than the usual since tonight’s a special night. You know, we’ll be getting married exactly three weeks from tomorrow. I never thought I’d say this but I can’t wait.”

  Jane merely nodded. “I know.”

  Monica turned her head toward Jason. “What’s wrong, honey? You’re mighty quiet tonight.”

  Jason whispered something in Monica’s ear then excused himself and left the table.

  Monica turned toward Jane again and shrugged. “Says he’s not feeling well. Poor baby.” She took several long swallows of her drink then set it down. “It’s probably jet lag again. He’s been traveling a lot lately.”

  “That must be hard on you too.”

  “No, not really,” Monica answered, coolly. “I’ve never been the dependent, clingy type. In fact, I like a little space. It’s good for a relationship.”

  Jason returned a minute later, smiled at both Jane and Monica and sat. Either Jane had been imagining his dark mood or something had made it do a sudden one-eighty. He looked downright chipper. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “So, what are you ladies talking about?”

  “Men, of course,” Monica answered. “That’s what all women love to talk about. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them, as they say.”

  He chuckled. “I should’ve guessed. So, what did I do this time?”

  Monica patted his knee. “Nothing, sweetheart. At least nothing bad.”

  That last part made Jane feel a little ill. She did not want to know about their sex life—correction, any more about their sex life than she already knew. She knew enough as it was. She recalled the chasing game and the look on Jason’s face the night of the hayride.

  Then she felt a little sicker.

  “Are you okay, Jane? You don’t look so good,” Monica said.

  “I’m feeling a little under the weather. Must be all those last-minute wedding plans I’ve been taking care of,” Jane suggested, adding, “since someone’s hoity-toity wedding planner decided to pick up shop and move…out of the country.”

  “That’s not my fault.” Monica crossed her arms over her chest and grimaced. “Who would’ve thought she’d lie about Oprah, for God’s sake? I thought that was illegal.” Her frown changed suddenly into a smile. “Thank God you’ve really come in to save the day. I owe you so much, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

  “Maybe you can introduce me to your brother-in-law someday,” Jane suggested.

  Monica scowled. “My brother-in-law? I didn’t know I had one of those. Honey, you have a brother?” She looked at Jason.

  Jane looked at Jason.

  Jason looked at Jane with very wide eyes and visibly swallowed. “Sure, I told you the night of the hayride. You remember that, don’t you? You must have told Jane, or she’s a private investigator,” he joked. He smiled and winked but the alarm Jane had seen was still plain on his face.

  Had he just realized she was the one who’d been with him that night?

  “Sure,” Jane said, making certain to keep her voice light and her tone joking. “That’s it. I moonlight as a private investigator. And since I was so concerned for Monica’s welfare, I did a little bit of snooping, Mr. Foxx.”

  Monica looked convinced. “How handy. What did you find out?”

  “Oh, the usual things. He pays his taxes,” Jane said, looking at Jason. Should she say more? Gauging by his intense stare, she was sure she had his captivated attention. But what would she gain from it? So what if he knew it was her that night? He was happy with the Monica he had now. They’d switched back some time ago. Since then, they’d become engaged and planned a wedding. He clearly wasn’t having any doubts about which woman he loved, at least not anymore.

  It would be unforgivably wrong to break them up now…unless he was still searching for the truth.

  He couldn’t be!

  “What else?” Monica asked. “You look like you’ve found some deep, dark secret. Jason, dear. What sorts of skeletons have you been hiding in your closets?”

  “Mmm…I’m not going to say. Let’s let Jane tell us. What else have you learned?” Jason prodded. “You’ve piqued both our interests. What sorts of secrets have you discovered?”

  “Oh nothing… I shouldn’t,” Jane mumbled, not sure she was doing the right thing. What if she caused them to break up and Monica was devastated? Could she live with herself? Heck no!

  “Yes, you should,” Jason stated firmly. The way he looked at her spoke volumes. He was still searching. He needed to know the truth.

  Jane looked at Monica for some help, a hint, anything. Monica nodded. “Pretty please? I want to know what you found out too.”

  “Well, let’s see,” Jane tried to recall the other private information he’d shared with her. “His mother died during childbirth…and…his father is a hard-nosed workaholic who…taught his boys to never believe in wishes.”

  Monica’s eyes widened in alarm as she finally seemed to understand what they were talking about. “How could you possibly know…” She didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, she turned to Jason. “Oh, I remember now. You were right. I told her. Silly me. I’m so ditzy sometimes. You know I’m a natural blonde…”

  Jason didn’t look at Monica. His gaze was razor-sharp and fixed on Jane. “I…I… Shit. I’ll be right back.” He stood and hurried from the room.

  Jane braced for Monica’s wrath, or at least a few harsh words, but as Monica faced her, she realized it wasn’t forthcoming. Monica was smiling. In fact, she appeared downright gleeful.

  Perhaps the half of the Long Island Monica had consumed had taken effect?

  “I think we’ve totally confused the poor man,” Monica said with a chuckle. She drained her glass and stood. “Now, that makes two of us.” Obviously feeling the effects of the strong drink, she half-walked, half-staggered across the room toward the bar.

  Eager for some clarification—this whole confusion thing was downright…confusing…to Jane too!—she followed Monica. But before she reached the bar, someone caught her hand and gave it a sharp yank.

  Realizing where she was standing, in the center of the dance floor, she knew the person who had caught her could only be one Mr. Kaufmann, Senior, dance fiend extraordinaire.

  He grinned, displaying a set of sparkling white dentures and said, “There’s my dance partner. I’ve been waiting for you, honey. Where’ve you been?” He pulled her into his arms with a force much too great for a man his age and waltzed her around the dance floor.

  The whole room filled with applause.

  “I’m so glad you made it,” he said as he led her into a spin. “That little young thing, what’s her name, April, Ann? She doesn’t know how to dance worth beans.”

  “You’re close. That’s Angela. Maybe you could teach her,” Jane suggested, trying to find Monica as she whirled in time to a fully orchestrated rendition of Tainted Love. Monica was confused? About what? About Jason?

  “Nope. I tried. She doesn’t have a lick of rhythm,” Mr. Kaufmann said.

  “She should have. She was a cheerleader in college.” Jane craned her neck, still trying to locate Monica.

  “Really?” He dipped Jane. His pale blue eyes scanned her face. Then he returned her to an upright position, and she returned her attention to searching the room for one drunk Monica who seemed to be in the mood for honesty.

  “I swear.” Her back to the bar, she craned her neck to try to catch a glimpse of where Monica might have gone. “She has a picture up in her office at work.”

  “Who’re you looking for, doll? Doncha want to dance with me? I live for this every year, you know.”

  She looked at him and smiled. “I’m sorry. I was right in the middle of something when you…I mean, a few minutes ago. I suppose it can wait. But you have to promise me you won’t be disappointed if I need to take a break after this dance.”

  “Fair enough.” He looked very pleased.
“I don’t suppose your date would appreciate me keeping you to myself all night.”

  She didn’t correct his false assumption. It might lead to hurt feelings. Instead, she tried to enjoy the moment. The man really did know how to dance, unlike the guys she dated. He knew how to hold her, how to lead her in the right direction with just the slightest pressure to her shoulder or a subtle shift in his weight. It was a shame younger men didn’t learn to dance like that anymore.

  When the song ended, Mr. Kaufmann released her and gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “You’re a good girl, Miss Brown. I’ve always told my son that he should treat you better.”

  “Well, thank you. I suppose I need to do more than be a good dancer to earn my raises, but I appreciate the thought.”

  She found Monica and Jason both at the table. Based on their grim expressions, she guessed they were involved in a very serious discussion. Not wishing to be an unwelcome interruption, or cause any more trouble, she decided to go find another seat and give them the chance to hash out whatever they were discussing.

  Maybe she should just call it a night? The guilt sitting heavy in her belly for stirring up this whole mess tonight wasn’t going to let her enjoy a minute of the festivities. Monica and Jason were arguing and it was all her fault. What had she been thinking?

  She hadn’t been thinking. That was the problem. If she had been using her head, she wouldn’t have dared rattle off information that would set off Jason’s suspicions. Then again, he’d asked and Monica had encouraged her.

  That was no excuse!

  Of course, she’d left her purse on the table and the gift for her Secret Santa on the floor. Darn it! She had to get those.

  Trying hard to quietly retrieve them while avoiding eavesdropping—a temptation she wasn’t sure she could resist—she took the long way back to the table, approaching it from the opposite side of the room. She figured, since she was coming from behind them, she might be able to snatch her purse and leave unnoticed.

  She was wrong.

  Monica caught her wrist as she reached for her purse and held it fast. “Don’t you go anywhere.”

  “I swear, I’m sorry for everything. I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth,” Jane blurted.

  “Have a seat.” Monica directed her to the chair on the other side of Jason.

  “You encouraged me. I wouldn’t have said a word if you hadn’t. Honest.” Jane stood behind the chair and stared at the back of Jason’s head.

  “He deserves to know the truth,” Monica said, motioning toward the chair again. “I can’t marry him like this, by tricking him and lying. It isn’t right. It’s been bothering me for weeks.”

  “Well…” Jane wasn’t sure what to say next.

  Jason swiveled in his chair and looked up at her. “Please. This has gone on long enough. I’ve lost patience. Whatever you two have been up to, it’s time to clear it up now, before anyone makes the kind of mistake that could ruin their life.”

  Jane nodded and sat but didn’t speak. She waited for Monica or Jason to begin. Her gaze ping-ponged back and forth between them until Jason finally spoke, “I want you to tell me the truth. How did you know those things about me and my family?”

  “You told me,” she stated. “The night of the hayride. The night we walked into the woods and roasted hot dogs and exposed ourselves to poison ivy.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  If it weren’t for the fact that Jason loved one of these woman so bad his insides were nothing but mush, he might have told them both to take a hike. But he couldn’t. Partly because of sick curiosity and partly because of a truth he hadn’t wanted to believe for weeks.

  He was engaged to the wrong woman.

  “No,” he corrected Jane. “I told Monica those things the night of the hayride. She got the poison ivy. I saw the aftereffects. You, on the other hand, had no signs of a rash when I saw you at the banquet hall. Your skin was flawless.”

  “Yeah, while I walked around looking like the Elephant Man,” Monica added. “But crazy as it sounds, Jason, she’s telling the truth.”

  “How? You had some kind of microphone on…right?” he asked.

  Jane and Monica both shook their heads.

  “Not exactly,” Monica said.

  “What does that mean?” Jason asked, getting frustrated and annoyed. “Just tell me what’s going on. What did you two do? And better yet, why?”

  This time Jane answered, “The why is something I don’t think either of us have been able to figure out yet. But the what is fairly simple, if you can get yourself to believe the impossible.”

  “Try me,” he said, not sure what to expect.

  “We switched bodies,” Monica said.

  Huh?

  “Like the Freaky Friday movie,” Jane added. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen it?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. You asked me that before. What’s it about?”

  “A mother and her teenage daughter switch bodies and learn what it’s like to live in each others’ shoes.”

  “Okay. How’d they do that? Makeup?” he asked, trying like heck to make sense of what Monica and Jane were telling him. It wasn’t logical. He didn’t particularly like things that weren’t logical.

  “Magic,” Jane said.

  He laughed. “Magic? There’s no such thing.”

  “That’s the only thing we can attribute it to,” Monica said, nodding.

  “This is ridiculous,” he said. “You two don’t expect me to believe this. There’s got to be a logical explanation. Monica, you were wearing a microphone, transmitting our conversations to Jane, who listened in and fed you lines back so you’d know what to say. Now, that makes sense. Switching bodies? That’s a good one.” He laughed. He couldn’t do anything else.

  “I don’t care what you believe. I know it’s true.” Monica pointed at Jane. “It’s all her fault. She wished on a falling star and the next morning I was—”

  “Falling star?” he repeated. Impossible! Wishes don’t come true. He’d made a wish on a falling star many times, including not too long ago…a couple of months ago, maybe? Right about the time Monica had changed…

  “Yeah,” Jane said. Her eyes were wide and round, her gaze fixed to his. She was either telling the truth or she was one of those psychopathic liars who could fool a lie detector. “I swear we’re telling you the truth. Monica didn’t have any wires on. You know that. You would have felt them when—”

  “He would have what? I thought you said nothing happened between you two?” Monica interrupted, sounding as bewildered as she looked.

  “Nothing…um, major,” Jane admitted. “It would’ve been weird if we hadn’t at least kissed a little. Heck, you two’ve been dating for a year. I had a hell of a time keeping us out of bed. Jason wanted to—”

  “Why do I feel like I shouldn’t be hearing this?” Monica’s cheeks stained a light pink. “Suddenly I feel like the third wheel.”

  Clearly respecting Monica’s discomfort, Jane returned to the previous subject, “Anyway, there was a meteor shower or something one night and—”

  “What night?” Jason interrupted, not buying the story yet, but warming up to it. There were some intangibles that suggested they might be telling the truth, as impossible as it was. And this time he wasn’t hearing it from a drunk woman known to tell outrageous stories.

  “It was a Monday night,” Jane answered. “The night before you had the car repossessed. I’d had a rough day. Monica had dumped a huge project on my desk the Friday before and I got bawled out Monday for not finishing my work because I’d been too busy doing hers. I was mad, thought she always got the better deal in life. So I did something silly, childish, never expecting anything to come out of it. That night, I stood on my balcony watching the stars, and out of the blue I saw a bunch of meteors or something…and just for kicks I made a wish.”

  “The night before the car was repossessed?” Jason repeated, trying to remember if that had been the night he’d made the wish too. He
wasn’t certain, but it could have been.

  What are you thinking? You’re letting a couple of women make you believe in magic and wishes? How gullible are you? This was all too much! He wasn’t about to believe some silly wish had come true by magic. His old man would be rolling on the floor in a fit of hysterical laughter and calling Jason a complete idiot if he heard this. The logical explanation he’d provided earlier had to be the answer.

  Jason Foxx was no idiot.

  But that left one unanswered question. Why were Monica and Jane lying? He had to know the answer.

  Why would Monica want to trap him? Money? Marriage? Maybe both?

  “You bugged my house,” he said, looking at Monica. “And you heard me.”

  She looked confused. “Heard what?”

  “You heard what I wished—wanted—and you went to Jane and asked for her help and she made you into that person so that I’d marry you—”

  “Hold on!” Monica waved her hands in the air. “I would never do that. You know me. I’m me and no man’s going to change that. Either you love me the way I am or you don’t. How many times have I said so?”

  “True,” Jason admitted. The motivation was lacking. Monica didn’t like to change, especially for someone else. “But you also knew I was miffed about the art glass and the car—”

  “But I wouldn’t marry you for money. I’d rather end up in bankruptcy court than do that. That’s why I’m telling you the truth now. We were this close to getting married, Jason. If I’d kept Jane from you and kept my mouth shut, we’d be waltzing down the aisle in a few weeks and then half of what you own would be mine. If this whole thing was a con, then I’m one stupid con man…er, woman…to screw it up now.”

  He felt tired suddenly, exhausted. “Okay. I can’t think about the whys or even the hows right now. I just need to know who each of you are. I need to know which woman was the woman I fell in love with.” He looked at Monica then at Jane. In his heart he knew the answer.

  Monica was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. She was stunning, from head to toe, with thick, long blonde hair, large, round blue eyes rimmed with long lashes and a face that could easily grace magazine covers. Her body was svelte with a few surgically enhanced curves where men liked them most. But she was also the antithesis of his dream woman, of the woman he’d wished for the night of the meteor shower. Whether he cared to admit it or not, it had taken that time when she wasn’t acting herself to see past her physical beauty and accept what he’d been denying for twelve long months.