Indelible Love Series + Entwined Bundle

by DW Cee

  “Have a good trip. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “Okay, see ya.”

  I contemplated whether I should give Max a call. He had no idea I was leaving for three days since he hadn’t called me in about the same number of days. It served him right not to know what was going on in my life. Nevertheless, I missed him and knew I was being stubborn about not calling him. I decided to be the bigger person.

  “Hello?” that scratchy, pain in my arse voice answered my boyfriend’s phone.

  “Max, please,” I bit out in the most pleasant voice that I could muster.

  “Is this Jane?” She was way too cheerful! “Hi!!!”

  OMG!!! I wanted to throw the phone against the wall.

  “Hold on, Max is changing out of his scrubs right now.”

  What the hell???

  “Max...” She used a way too familiar tone when calling his name. “You’ve got a phone call.”

  “Uh, thanks. Hello?”

  “You pretty much hung up on me the last time we spoke, it’s been three freakin’ days since you last called me, and Alex Forrest just picked up your phone and told me you were changing clothes. I think I’ve said all I want to say. Good-bye!”

  “Ja...” Those were the last sounds I heard from the other line before I hung up. Boy, this relationship stuff was hard. Maybe I, too, need to find someone like my brother. Perhaps Laney was on to something.

  I decided to call it a day and go home and pack for my business trip. I was mad as hell, but figured we’d work it out when I got back home.

  “Jane. Pick up the home phone,” Mom called from downstairs, as I finished packing.

  “Hello?”

  “Gem, my sweet, you can’t just say what you want to say, then hang up on me. You gotta give me a chance to explain myself. And, what’s with turning off your cell phone?”

  “What do you want? I’m busy.” Mean, I know, but I wasn’t in the mood to play nice.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t called you. I was mad, I was busy, and I was an idiot.” Okay...not bad. “Would it make you feel better to know that I’ve been miserable the last three days? I’ve missed you, my precious gem.” Getting better... “Can we meet tonight? I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.” That suggestive tone was doing things for me.

  “I wasn’t lying when I said I was busy. I’m leaving for the airport right now. I have a business trip up in San Francisco. But...you can make it up to me all you like when I get back...I’m gonna be very demanding...” I used my best phone-sex voice starting from the But... part.

  “Is...Donovan going?” Max sounded insecure again.

  “You really asking me this when Psycho answered your phone and told me you were naked?”

  “She did not say that. She was just holding on to the phone for me when I went in to change. I didn’t have any pockets. And, you’re avoiding my question.”

  “It’s me, Andrea, my boss from hell, and Mark, and Simon from M&A. Donovan is not part of this team, so no, he’s not going. You know, you’re a G.E.M. yourself.”

  He laughed. “How long are you gone for?”

  “I think three days, give or take a day, depending upon how it goes.”

  “All right. I have exams the next few days so I won’t be able to see you anyhow if it isn’t tonight. This works out perfectly. When you get back, I’ll have some free time and we’ll tie up all the loose ends.”

  “What loose ends are we tying up?”

  “Our conversation about your extra-curricular activities with other men, and our unfinished business from New Year’s Eve.” I could tell he was smiling on the other end.

  “Sounds stimulating! Can’t wait. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “Bye. I’ll miss you!”

  “I’ll miss you too.”

  I was glad to have worked things out with Max before leaving for my trip. Sitting on the plane, I thought over our conversation and blushed at the thought of tying up our unfinished business from New Year’s Eve.

  “Whatcha daydreaming about, now?” Donovan asked, taking the seat next to me.

  I just stared at him.

  “Mark’s wife went into labor four weeks early. I’m the replacement.”

  Uh-Oh!!!

  Jan. 14, 2013 Circa 1814 Part 1

  If I’d known that being an associate lawyer of a big firm was no different than living the life of a first year medical resident, I would’ve picked a different profession. I would’ve gone with my first choice of becoming a writer. Then I could’ve sat in front of a computer screen all day and eaten bonbons, while coming up with scintillating story lines. Law school was the wrong choice.

  We had been going back and forth with the Mitchell group for the past two days with no resolution in sight. Our client would not concede to any of their demands, and of course, the Mitchell group would not concede to any of our client’s demands. In the past forty-eight-hours, I think I slept no more than ten hours. I felt like hell, I looked like hell, and there was no end in sight.

  “How you holding up?” Andrea shot daggers with her eyes when she saw Donovan ask me this question while patting my hand to comfort me.

  “I thought the New York office was bad. This case is the toughest one I’ve seen yet.”

  “Jane, don’t be such a whiner. You’re not the only tired one here,” said the biatch who went to her hotel room at 10:00p.m. last night, and slept a full night’s sleep.

  What was I doing while Ms. Andrea slept the night away, you ask? As the least senior member here, it fell upon me to rewrite all the documents from the meeting. And of course, I’d have to rewrite them again tonight, because of all the changes that will occur by the time we are done today.

  “Hello all. How are negotiations going?”

  “Gimpy!!!” I jumped up to hug Sir Roland Hugh Ascot III. “What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were going to be here.”

  Getting the chance to hug this eighty-four-year-old elderly love of my life was the highlight of this crappy trip.

  “I’m here checking up on our employees. You working hard? By the circles under your eyes, I can tell you’re not slacking off.”

  “Jane,” Andrea admonished in her “kindest” voice, “you’re being rude by not introducing us to this gentleman. Hello. I’m Andrea Kot, lead partner in the patent law department.”

  “Hello, Andrea Kot, lead partner in the patent law department, I’m Roland Ascot.”

  “Roland Ascot, as in Ascot, Ascot & Pemberly? The Roland Ascot, founding member of our firm?” Andrea was a bit tongue-tied. “And how do you know our Jane?”

  Sure...now that she knew how well connected I was in this firm, I was her Jane? Whatever! Before Gimpy could answer, I introduced him to everyone else.

  “Gimpy, this is Simon Han and you remember Donovan, Jake’s best friend? They’re both from the mergers and acquisition department.”

  “It’s an honor to meet you, Sir.” Simon was in awe.

  “Nice to see you again, Sir.” Donovan shook Gimpy’s hand.

  “You married, yet, Son?”

  “Not yet, Sir.”

  “Hasn’t Jake schooled you on the virtues of married life? He’s a man in bliss, last I saw.”

  “Oh yes he has, and he definitely is a man in bliss. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to find any girl who’ll take me.”

  “Why don’t you marry our Jane here. She’s as stubborn as she is beautiful.”

  “She is that, Sir. I’d take her in a heartbeat if she’d have me.” Donovan winked and squeezed my hand.

  OMG! He couldn’t have meant what he just said. “You’re one to talk, Gimpy. When’re you gonna marry Gram and make an honest woman out of her? I know you two are living in sin out in London.” Gimpy burst out with that deep, rich laughter I so loved hearing. “She won’t come back to us because of you, huh?”

  “Young lady, you talk too much.” He laughed again. “How about it, my Janey...you want me to marry you and Donovan righ
t now?”

  I blushed. “Gimpy, I have a boyfriend. I’ll introduce you to him when you’re in LA.” I said shyly, not understanding why I felt so self-conscious.

  “All right. Enough talk of marriage. I have a treat for you all. I know you’ve been at a dead end with this deal. I happen to know the old goat who owns the Mitchell Group. Let me deal with him today. You all can have a day off.”

  Everyone clapped. We were all so in need of a break.

  “Donovan, let me talk to you privately for a second, and Janey, my dear, I will see you later.” Just like that, he dismissed us all but Donovan.

  I sat in the break room waiting for Donovan, ignoring Andrea’s prying questions.

  “Jane, let’s go.” Donovan quickly shooed us out of the break room before anyone got a chance to stop us. “We have a few things to take care of before seeing Sir Ascot again.”

  “Where are we going, and when are we seeing Gimpy again?”

  “Surprise,” he smiled and put us on the elevator as Andrea tried to follow.

  “What’s going on?”

  He kept his mouth sealed and continued smiling.

  “Donovan!!!” I whined. “A hint or two or three?”

  “Okay. A dress, a tux, a horse and carriage. There are your three hints.”

  Oh my gosh, did Gimpy command Donovan to marry me? Didn’t I make it clear that I had a boyfriend? What was going on and why would Donovan agree to such a crazy demand? And wait...why wasn’t I consulted in this whole marriage decision? What the hell am I talking about? Nobody was getting married today...but why else would we need a dress, a tux, and a horse and carriage?

  Ugh! How do I always find myself in these crazy situations?

  Jan. 17, 2013 Circa 1814 Part 2

  My biggest guilty pleasure in life is reading Regency romance novels. You know the ones with the embarrassing book covers (front and back) where the woman has the long wavy hair that flows down to her empire-waisted dress, showing off her scandalously low décolletage, while the buff Fabio-looking guy has his shirt unbuttoned and is caressing her from behind? Every book title has a Duke or an Earl in it, along with words like “his wicked ways,” or “how to marry” or “the pleasures of”. Yes, I am one of those women who cannot get enough of the lofty Duke dallying with the scullery maid, but eventually finding true love with a high-spirited Lady, or the Viscount who falls in love with the high-born, but poor daughter of a Baron. I love reading the traditional Regency romance with the fine historical details, as well as the Regency historical romance that includes more love, more drama, and more sex. They’re all delicious in my book (I seem to be rolling with the puns these days :P).

  Well, I don’t know how this happened, but somehow I was transported back to the 1800’s as soon as I left our San Francisco office and stepped into the Madame Claudine’s Dress Shoppe—Your Modiste of Choice.

  “What is this place?” I marveled, touching all the gowns, hats, gloves, fans, and parasols.

  “I told you. A dress, a tux, and carriage and horses. Go pick out the dress you want to wear tonight.”

  “What’s tonight?”

  “Why, Lady Jane. Don’t you know? Tonight is Le Beau Monde Ton Ball, at Almack’s,” the shopkeeper told me. How’d this gal know my name? “It’s a masquerade ball, so don’t forget to pick out your dominos,” she addressed the both of us.

  “Donovan. What is going on? Why do I feel like a character in a Regency romance novel?”

  “Your ‘Gimpy,’ as you call him, purchased tickets to this ball and he told me to bring you. There’s a surprise waiting for you there. Everything you borrow and use is compliments of Sir Ascot, so borrow away.”

  “You’re being serious? I’m going to a real, pretend ton ball?”

  “Yes, Lady Jane. Now go pick out your dress,” he commanded.

  “I think the ice blue cambric gown would suit nicely with those fiery blue eyes, Lady Jane.” The modiste of the shop came out in full Regency regalia. She had on a gorgeous muslin morning dress and spoke like a member of the ton—though in actuality, no modiste could be considered part of the upper class.

  “Why Lady Jane, I think you would look exquisite in that dress,” Donovan winked.

  “I think I might go for the cyprian look.” La modiste looked horrified. “I think she’s about to suffer an apoplexy,” I whispered.

  “I’m going to be in a fit of apoplexy myself if I have to wear these tight breeches.” He was holding up a pair of buckskin pants that looked a tad bit slim and fitting.

  “Those skin-tight breeches are hot. You’d look quite the dandy, Donovan, Earl of Los Angeles. Beau Brummel, watch out!” I laughed. “Just make sure nobody gets you hot, if you know what I mean, or else, we will all know what you mean.” I laughed even harder. “There’s no room for error in those pants.”

  “Move along, doxy, before you get what’s coming to you and I put a hand to your backside.”

  “Did you really say that? Oh my gosh, that was so funny. Where’d you learn that?”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “I have four sisters. They loved this Jane Austen kind of stuff and read it to me regardless of my willing participation. I don’t know what you girls find so fascinating about this era. We had those embarrassing novels all around the house. My mom loved them, too.”

  “Ok, Beau. Let’s pick our outfits and get to the ball.”

  Our hackney dropped us off at the apartment and we proceeded to get dressed (in separate rooms, of course). I could see why Regency ladies all required a lady’s maid. It wasn’t easy putting on evening gowns without help. The drawers came first, then the chemise, then a tight corset over the chemise. The blue gown had so many buttons on the back starting from my rear end, I had to button up as many buttons as possible and step into my dress before asking Donovan for help with the rest of the buttons. As for my hairdo, there was no way I’d be able to do one of those ringlet coifs starting from the top of my head, so I left my hair down, but half tied back. For an era where men and woman didn’t touch each other bare-skinned before marriage, the neckline, or more fashionably called, décolletage, was deep and plunging. Thank goodness I had somewhat of a chest to keep the dress up.

  “I need help.” I stopped dead when I saw Donovan in his evening breeches, (which were not as tight as I thought they’d be...shucks?!?), a perfectly starched shirt, cravat, waist coat, tail coat, evening dress shoes, and a great coat. He even had a watch fob. He looked devastatingly handsome!

  “Aren’t you a vision in blue!”

  “Uh...um...” I was a bit tongue-tied.

  “Is it my outfit that’s put you at sixes and sevens or is it the quizzing glass?” I busted out laughing when he put the quizzing glass up to his right eye. He looked like a modern day Mr. Darcy. Sigh...

  “I need help,” I said, turning around.

  “Why you, trollop, you. Are you asking me to button...or unbutton...?”

  As soon as his hand touched my body, I felt that spark between us that shouldn’t be. This was wrong. I had to have a talk with him. The friendly flirting had gone too far, and I was being a trollop.