by Renee Hart
She found him waiting by the door, holding a small box in his hands. He wore a dark green turtleneck sweater and a fashionable blazer. His eyes widened when he saw her, and she saw his face starting to turn a light shade of pink. It made her smile. Maybe, she thought, she could make a good impression on him after all.
“Jane?” he asked, his tone incredulous, as if he couldn't believe it was really her. “You look...beyond words.”
She giggled, covering her lips with her fingers. “Why, thank you, Mr. Gordon.”
“None of that 'Mr. Gordon' stuff now,” he said. “We're engaged, remember?”
“Ahh, right. Should I call you Shea? Or should I lay it on a bit thicker and call you sweetheart or darling.”
“Whatever strikes your fancy,” he said.
He opened the box he was carrying. “This first gift is temporary, I'm afraid. Part of the show. It was my grandmother's.”
He pulled out a diamond ring with a large stone circled by a dozen smaller ones. It was a more magnificent piece of jewelry than Jane had ever worn before. Her hand trembled as he slipped it onto her finger. She had to fight off tears in that moment. She had imagined since she was a young girl what it would be like when a man, a man she had hoped to love, would slip a ring onto her finger like that. Having it happen now, when it was a lie, made her feel like she was going to break down.
She took a deep breath to steady herself. “It's beautiful.”
Shea touched her cheek, smiling at her. He reached back into the box. “This,” he said, “is a gift. A token of my thanks for your help.”
He pulled out an emerald bracelet with a dozen large stones linked together by finely wrought gold. As he clasped it around her wrist, he said, “I hope you don't mind, I looked into your company records. Emeralds are your birthstone, correct?”
“May nineteenth,” she said, smiling at him. It was sort of sweet that he'd gone to that much trouble to find the right gift. She looked at the bracelet, remembering what her mother had once told her about emeralds. They were supposed to be a symbol of rebirth and good fortune. She wondered if she would still get good fortune when the “rebirth” she was going through today was all a lie.
Shea slipped her arm through his and led her outside to his Porsche. “We should go over a few things before we get to the party,” he said once they started to drive. “How we met, how long we've been together, that sort of thing.”
“I was thinking about that,” Jane said. “I wasn't sure where to begin. I mean, what's a normal way for someone like you to meet women? It's not like I can just say we met at a bar.”
“I was thinking a charity event,” he said. “The thing is, we need to keep this a bit simple. Anyone that decides to look you up after tonight will know your background. So I don't want to do anything foolish like passing you off as someone born to money. So we tell anyone who asks that we met at a fundraiser for the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. I was there a bit before Thanksgiving as a corporate sponsor. You were there as a volunteer.”
“Wait, so I was staff?” Jane asked, pouting. Shea's story was starting to burst her bubble a bit. She had been looking forward to playing the part of a high society girl.
“It's the most believable story,” Shea said. “There will be some talk among certain circles about someone from my station getting involved with someone from yours. No offense intended, of course, but that's simply how it will be. The women who come to these events love to gossip, and I expect to be the target of most of it after tonight.”
“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Jane asked. She leaned her elbow against the car door and touched her fingers to her lips. “I mean, aren't you supposed to be showing your grandfather that you can be this responsible, visionary person?”
“But that's the beautiful part, don't you see?” Shea smirked. “My grandfather married for love, when he was a young man still struggling to build a career for himself. And after my grandmother died, some years later he married his secretary. There's all kinds of talk about the supposed improprieties about such a thing, but the fact of the matter is, he loves her. She's more than twenty years his junior, but he's known her and worked with her longer than anyone else. She was the one who stood by his side after my grandmother died. She helped him take care of the funeral arrangements when he was too broken up to do it himself. And she supported him for years after that. It was natural that they would fall in love.”
“That's so sweet,” Jane said. She personally didn't care about any age difference. If two people were in love, and they were both adults, then age really didn't matter.
“Stuck up women from society's upper crust don't see it as sweet,” Shea said. “They see him as a cradle robber and her as a gold digger. Which is likely how they'll see us, even if we don't have anywhere near that big of an age difference. But the important part is how my grandfather will see it. He'll see this as proof that I'm marrying for love, not for wealth or beauty. Err, I didn't mean that the way it came out.”
“It's okay,” she said, patting his knee. “I've always been Plain Jane. I'm used to it.”
“My dear,” he said, looking her in the eye, “there's nothing plain about you tonight. Not at all.”
Jane blushed and looked away, watching the buildings pass by the car as they drove. For the rest of the drive they worked out the rest of the details of their story. How they started chatting at the charity event, then found out that, by alleged coincidence, they worked for the same company. And how they kept their relationship quiet for the first few weeks out of worry that it would be seen as inappropriate for a vice president to be dating someone who worked on the factory floor.
The story made a lot more sense than the ideas Jane had been tossing around all day. She wouldn't need to pretend to be someone she wasn't. People might look at her and see her as nothing more than a middle class woman in a fancy dress her fiance had paid for. But at least what they would be seeing would be the truth, except for the fiance part. She wouldn't even have to worry about fitting in or knowing which fork to use or any of that. If she made a mistake and it gave people more reason to whisper about her behind her back, it would only help support the story that much more.
They arrived at the office building, stopping out front. A valet came to take the car, and Shea led Jane inside. They took the elevator to the upper floors, where the Gordon Orthopedics offices had been decorated for the holiday party.
“You ready?” Shea asked as the elevator reached their destination.
“No,” Jane said. She clung to Shea's arm, trying to push away the sick feeling in her stomach. “But it's too late to turn back now.”
Chapter 12
The office looked almost like a ballroom with the fancy decorations. Silver and gold streamers lined the walls, and desks had been covered with silky white tablecloths and silver trays piled high with food. A catering staff moved throughout the crowd, carrying trays with wine glasses and appetizers. People in fancy clothes mingled throughout the office, making small talk and nibbling at the finger foods the staff offered them. Most of them women were in fancy dresses like Jane's, though a few wore simpler outfits. They looked like the sort of clothing she normally would have worn herself.
As Shea lead her into the room, she leaned close and whispered, “Am I over dressed?” She nodded towards a small group of women in casual clothes.
“Not at all,” Shea whispered back. “My grandfather makes a point to include everyone from the main office at these parties. That includes executives and their spouses,” he nodded towards a group of finely dressed individuals on one side of the room, “and secretaries, office workers, and their spouses,” he nodded towards the more casually dressed people on the other side of the room. Jane couldn't tell if the groups had segregated themselves out of a sense of disdain for each other, or if it was more simply a natural urge that led them to be more comfortable in their own groups. She knew she would have been more comfortable among the office workers, where she wouldn
't expect to be judged as much. But Shea steered her towards the group of executives.
She raised her chin, reminding herself why she was here. She needed to put on the show that she was romantically involved with an upper class man. She told herself not to worry about her discomfort. After all, her story with Shea was that she was just a factory worker who had someone snagged the attention of a man well above her station. The discomfort she was feeling fit perfectly well with the role she was supposed to put on.
They joined a group of men and women who were already deep in conversation. The chatting subsided when the group noticed them. One of the women, a stunning blonde in a long white dress that hugged her like a glove, looked them up and down. “Why, Shea!” she said, a beaming smile on her face that didn't touch her eyes. “So good to see you could make it. And I see you brought a date.” She studied Jane appraisingly, her eyes pausing on the emerald bracelet on Jane's wrist.
“This is Jane,” Shea said. Jane clung to his arm like he was her lifeline, and he patted her hand affectionately to comfort her. “My fiance.”
“Fiance?” the woman asked, giving Jane another look. “Wow. My, my, my, Shea, I didn't think you'd ever settle down.”
“I was just waiting to find the right woman.” Shea flashed an adoring smile at Jane. For a second, even she almost believed he really was in love with her.
“How did you two meet?” one of the men asked.
Shea launched into his story about the charity event. He went on and on about how Jane had caught his eye from across the room, and how he hadn't been able to think about anything else but how to find an excuse to go and talk to her. “Finally,” he said, “I realized I was going to have to make up a reason. Jane was taking donations at one of the tables, and even though I'd already made a sizable donation, I wrote another check on the spot just so I'd have an excuse to walk up to her table and start a conversation.”
Jane's face started to turn red. She kept her eyes down, not sure if she should add anything to the conversation or just let Shea spin his tale. She didn't want to risk contradicting anything in his story, so she kept quiet for a moment.
“Wait,” the woman in white asked, eyeing Jane again, “you were a volunteer?”
Jane looked to Shea, but he seemed to be waiting for her to speak. She stumbled over her words for a moment. “Oh, well, yes. I love volunteering. Giving back to the community, you know.”
The woman snorted. “I love giving back to the community too. With my checkbook.” The look in her eyes made it clear that she'd already sniffed Jane out and realized she didn't belong here.
Jane stood up a bit straighter. She decided to just be straightforward and not dance around the issue. “Well, I only make twelve dollars an hour, so my time is worth more than my checkbook.”
Everyone in the group gave Shea uncomfortable looks. No one said anything directly to Jane, but the chill in their gazes said enough. They all knew now. Their very body language shifted, everyone turning away from her just slightly, making it clear she was beneath them.
“That's nice, dear,” the woman in white said, giving Jane a fake smile. “What do you do for a living? Something in retail?”
Jane kept her chin up, refusing to let herself feel any shame for the work she did. “I work in one of the Gordon Orthopedics factories, actually. Shea and I had a laugh when we realized we both worked for the same company.”
The woman in white pursed her lips, giving Shea a devilish look. “It must be serendipity,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
They moved on and mingled with some more people Shea knew, though none of them really seemed like they were his friends. She wondered what it was like for him, coming to a party like this and knowing that there was no one here who you could consider to be a real friend. It was one thing for Jane to have no friends here. She didn't know a single person here anyway. But these people were Shea's coworkers, and their families, and yet there didn't seem to be any true warmth between any of them. Just a lot of posturing and judgment that seemed to be what passed for “being social” among the elite.
She felt an immense wave of relief when, almost an hour into the party, she saw a friendly face arrive. Emily stepped off the elevator with her husband, and as soon as she spotted Jane she smiled and waved. Jane excused herself from Shea's side—he was busy discussing business with another executive, and Jane had been tuning out the conversation for the last ten minutes—and she hurried over to greet Emily. “God, you look amazing,” Jane said, taking in Emily's hair and makeup. She leaned close and whispered, “I'm guessing you stayed at the spa after I left to get a little makeover of you're own.”
Emily laughed, leaning close to Jane to whisper, “Hey, as long as it was on the boss's dime, I was taking advantage of that.”
Emily patted her husband's arm. “Jane, you sort of met my husband earlier. David, doesn't Jane just look absolutely stunning?”
David smiled at Jane, extending his hand. “You really do look amazing. I almost didn't recognize you.”
Jane shook his hand. “I kind of feel overdressed. But I guess that's the point, right? Trying to make a good impression.”
“Have you met Jeb yet?” Emily asked.
Jane looked around the room. “Not yet. Is he here? I thought Shea would have introduced us by now.” She scanned the faces in the room, though she didn't really know what the elder Mr. Gordon looked like. None of the people she saw struck her as the right type to be the big boss.
“He always shows up a bit late,” Emily explained. “Here, let me introduce you to the girls. Shea probably already took you on the ice bitch tour. Now you should meet the people who actually do the real work around here.”
Emily took her over to meet the other secretaries and office workers, and Jane immediately hit it off with them. Unlike the stuck up people on the far side of the room, these women actually seemed friendly and welcoming.
“Oh my God, I love your dress,” one woman said. “Where did you get that? It looks so expensive.”
Jane tried to put on the “proud fiance” face. She gestured across the room to Shea. “My fiance bought it for me. Well, he paid for it anyway. Emily helped me pick it out.”
“And let me tell you,” Emily said, “I wish Shea would buy me something like that. That dress cost more than my Christmas bonus.”
“See, now I feel bad,” Jane said, wringing her hands. “I wish we could have picked something out for you when we went shopping.”
“Oh, honey, I'm just teasing,” Emily said, touching Jane's arm. “Besides, I could never own something that nice. My kids would spill chocolate milk on it and it would be ruined. Though on my budget, you know I'd still wear it, and I'd just try to find a nice scarf or something to cover up the stain.”
The other women in the group shared some stories about their own children's antics. It made Jane a little jealous. She had always wanted children of her own. A small family, maybe one or two kids. Enough to have some love in the house without it being too overwhelming. Her mother had come from a family of nine kids, and the idea of giving birth to that many children made her uterus want to run away and hide in the corner.
The conversations continued for awhile while Jane and the other women helped themselves to the free food. She had lost track of Shea, and she worried that she was doing a bad job playing the part of his fiance. But on the other hand, she told herself, this is exactly what she would do if she were here with a real fiance. Even if they had been here as a real couple, it wouldn't mean she had to hang on his arm every minute of the party. Even Emily's husband had wandered off to chat with the other secretaries' husbands. She didn't blame him. Most men she knew wouldn't want to spend a whole night chatting with a group of married women while they talked about their kids.
More than an hour had passed before Shea showed up at Jane's side. He touched her arm and leaned in close, whispering to her, “It's time to introduce you to my grandfather.”
Jane forced herse
lf to smile. She finished off her glass of wine, then set it down on the buffet table. “Wish me luck,” she told the other women.
“Good luck,” Emily said. “And remember what we talked about.”
“Right,” Jane said. As Shea led her off, she went over everything in her head once more. She had done a fine job so far convincing the rest of the office that she really was Shea's fiance. But now it was time to convince his grandfather.
Chapter 13
Shea's grandfather was nothing like Jane had expected. She'd been picturing a distinguished gentleman who fit the image of the corporate elite. Instead, he simply looked like...a grandfather.
Jebediah Gordon was gray and wrinkled, but the lines on his face looked like they'd been formed from years of smiles and laughter. His hair was thinning to the point of nearly being bald, but he didn't try to hide it under a comb over or toupee, instead opting to wear his age with dignity and pride. He was dressed comfortable, with a light gray shirt under a Christmas-red cardigan. And though the woman on his arm was young enough to be his daughter, he looked at her with such love and affection that Jane felt a surge of warmth pass through her. She wished for someone to look at her like that one day.
“Shea, my boy,” Jeb said, clapping his grandson on the shoulder. “I was wondering where you were. Is this that fiance you've been hiding from me?” He looked Jane over, smiling warmly at her.
“Hey, Pops. Yeah, this is Jane.” Shea put an arm around Jane's waist. She stepped closer to him, hoping there wouldn't be any awkwardness that revealed she wasn't really in love with Shea. But even though she didn't feel the affection she was portraying, it was easy to be close to him. His arm around her waist felt nice, and it felt natural to lean against him, like they were a real couple.
“Nice to meet you,” Jane said, smiling at Jeb and his wife.
“The pleasure is mine, I'm sure,” Jeb said, chuckling. “This is my wife, Anna. Sorry we're a bit late.” He leaned close and lowered his voice. “She had to give me my Christmas present early.”
