Average Jane

by Kristin Coley

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Average Jane

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  AVERAGE JANE

  First edition: March 24th, 2017

  Copyright © 2017 Kristin Coley

  Written by Kristin Coley

  Proofread by Carolyn at Particular Proofreading (hollycat50@gmail.com)

  For those who love a knight in slightly tarnished armor.

  Ian Wright was in exile.

  After the ninth (or was it the tenth?) university kicked him out, his parents washed their hands of him. No great loss there, but it meant he’d be spending the foreseeable future with his brother and bodyguard since being left to his own devices usually found him in a bar or behind bars. Quite often both in the same evening.

  Jane Andrews was in trouble.

  And it wasn’t even of her own making. It was bad enough her parents left the country the summer before she headed off to college but they also sent her to stay with a godfather she didn't know. All because respectable girls don’t spend the summer unsupervised. But when her godfather turns out to be her worst nightmare, she finds herself abandoned in a city better known for its sinners than its saints.

  Ian Wright was, without question, a sinner. A drunken playboy with a hair trigger temper, he would never be a saint. Tormented by betrayal, he considered all women to be deceptive creatures. A grasping, desperate and singularly interchangeable gender good for one thing only.

  Until Jane.

  Chapter One

  My parents were idiots.

  There was no other explanation.

  Not considering my current circumstances.

  I was stranded in an unfamiliar city, standing on a sidewalk in the rain with nowhere to go and very little money to my name. I couldn’t really blame the rain on my parents - they weren’t responsible for acts of nature after all - but it was making my situation even more uncomfortable.

  Everything else though I laid firmly at their feet.

  It wasn’t like I hadn’t voiced my objections to their plan.

  They’d just chosen to override them.

  “Mom, Dad. I’m eighteen. I don’t need to stay with some godparent I’ve never met.”

  “You’ve met him!” Mom interrupted, her light brown hair frizzing around her face as she looked up from the box she was packing.

  “When I was a baby. It doesn’t count. When was the last time you saw him?” I asked, arms crossed, eyebrow arched, already knowing it had been years, but wanting them to admit the fact. This plan had bad idea written all over it. What I couldn’t figure out was why they persisted with it. I was old enough to stay on my own.

  Heck, when college started in the fall I’d be living in the dorms on campus. It wasn’t exactly alone, but I would have to take care of myself. Something I was more than capable of after years of mission trips with my scatterbrained parents.

  If only my parents didn’t have such conservative ideas.

  “Your father has been friends with him since they were boys. We trust him, and you know we can’t leave you by yourself for months on end. It wouldn’t be seemly.” Mom stroked my hair back from face, but thankfully managed to refrain from telling me I needed a barrette. She had yet to resign herself to the fact that I was growing up, and could legally be considered an adult now.

  I bit back the urge to ask what was seemly about sending their eighteen year old daughter to stay with a strange man for three months. A man old enough to be her father, but who she didn’t know. Ever since they’d come up with the idea a month earlier, I’d been fighting it.

  There had to be a better option.

  “Mom. People live alone all the time. I’ll be on my own at the dorms. This would just be a few months earlier. I could take care of the house.”

  “Sweetie, we’ve rented the house. You know that. You can’t stay here.” She held up her hand before I started in on what I thought of that idea. Who rented their house out to perfect strangers for a year while they went on a mission trip? All while forgetting about their daughter. “I’ll admit we’ve made some booboos, but we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to go to Africa for a year and do God’s work. You know that.”

  “Yes, but sending me to live with a stranger until school starts isn’t the best idea either!”

  My dad walked in at that moment, determination written on his face.

  “Quit arguing with your mother. You’re making this harder than it needs to be. You’re going to stay with Dale and that’s final. He’s a good man who’s doing us a great favor by having you stay with him. We expect you to be respectful and follow his rules while you’re there.” Dad’s voice was firm, and I knew it was pointless to argue against the preacher tone. It didn’t seem to matter what I said, they didn’t get the same sketchy vibe I felt from Dale, ‘the childhood friend.’ As if childhood friends couldn’t grow up to be perverts.

  ***

  I blinked back the moisture in my eyes, telling myself it was the rain and not tears. Being right didn’t feel so great when I was essentially homeless and broke. I didn’t even have my clothes. The jerk had dumped me on the sidewalk, and I was lucky I’d managed to grab my purse as he shoved me out of the car. My luggage was a lost cause seeing as how it had been stowed in the trunk of his car.

  A glance around showed road construction on one side and the massive steel frame of a new building on the other. I started walking, grateful it was only drizzling, only to have it downpour seconds later. The drops were cold and hard against me, and in desperation I darted into the nearest building. The blast of air conditioning almost froze me on the spot, but it was still better than the drenching I would get outside.

  “Hey, it’s coming down out there. You want something to eat or just looking for a little shelter from the rain?”

  The waitress was friendly, and didn’t seem bothered by my sudden entrance as I realized I’d stepped into a restaurant. It was more along the lines of a dive, but I really couldn’t complain. The lady in front of me was nice, and I had nowhere to go but back out into the rain.

  “Both?” My reply was uncertain, but she just waved me to a table.

  “Have a seat. We’ll get you warmed up.” She noticed my shiver and shouted, “Bill, turn down the AC before our guest freezes.”

  My teeth chattered as I nodded in appreciation.

  “You need a bowl of gumbo. Perfect for this weather. It may be hot as hell here in the summer, but rain calls for gumbo.” She didn’t bother with a menu, satisfied with her decision, and I wasn’t going to complain. I’d never had gumbo before, but if it was warm that was all that mattered. I suspected my shivering wasn’t completely due to the rain and icy air conditioning, but more with the fear that was starting to set in.

  My parents were on their way to Africa, and I was on my own. My grandparents had died years ago, and I had no siblings. It had always been my parents and me. We’d spent summers and school holidays on mission trips together, and this was the first time they’d left me to go alone. Any of our church family that I would have normally called were off on trips of their own. It found me completely on my own for the first time in my life, and not for the first time I cursed my parent’s for putting me in this situation.

  “What about money? I don’t want to rely on this stranger for my necessities.” I demanded to know, resigned by this point that I had no choice
but to go. Yes, I was eighteen, but I had no money of my own since my parents didn’t believe I should work and go to school. I was dependent on them for everything, and for the first time it chaffed.

  “We’ve sent him a check for your room and board, and your allowance. He’ll give it to you once a week just like we do. He didn’t want to take it, but we insisted.” Dad told me with a frown. “And watch your tone, little lady. I can tell him to take that allowance away and it’ll be a very boring summer for you!”

  The idea that I would have to ask a stranger for money all summer sent a shudder through me. It didn’t matter what I said, I couldn’t make them understand not everyone was on the up and up. I did manage to get them to give me two weeks allowance in advance plus extra money for the trip. I’d argued it was in case of emergency, and at the moment I was supremely grateful for it.

  I counted the money in my purse, checking every pocket and even the change, and with a sick feeling I realized forty dollars was all I had to my name.

  I tucked the money deeper into my wallet and wondered if stopping in here to eat was a mistake. The rumble of my stomach told me to stay put, as did the gust of wind and rain that came in as the door swung open. Two men dashed inside, shaking the raindrops from their hair. I spared them a quick glance noticing they both appeared older than me, and lighthearted in spite of the rain.

  They sat down at the table next to me even though there were several other empty tables. A quick scan of the room revealed why. We were sitting in the brightest part of the building since it was by one of only two windows. The place was dark and narrow sandwiched as it was between two other buildings, with a scattering of wooden tables in the front, a bar in the middle, and a narrow hallway leading to a door out the back of the building.

  “Darling, I’ve heard you have the best po’boys in the city. Tell me, is it true?”

  It was the accent that drew my attention first. I wasn’t familiar with the city, but could tell he wasn’t a local. Everyone I’d heard so far had a soft drawl, but his words were clipped. I studied him and he definitely wasn’t my type. His dirty blonde hair was buzzed short, a golden stubble covered his jaw, but it was the fact that his profile reminded me vaguely of a monkey which sealed it.

  He smiled up at the waitress, dimples flashing and she wasn’t immune –to the dimples or to the accent I finally recognized as British.

  Now the guy who’d come in with him. He was a cutie. Dark hair, angular jaw and a serious expression.

  “Of course, we wouldn’t stay in business otherwise.” She gave him a flirtatious wink, her ample hip bumping against him, and the sight gave me the first smile I’d had all day. They were definitely not in my league, but the waitress was intrigued.

  “Forgive my brother, he can be insulting without even trying. What do you recommend?” Tall, dark and handsome broke in and drew my attention back to him. He had an accent too, which made sense since he’d called the blonde one brother. Their looks were so different though I wasn’t sure if it was an affection or they were actually brothers.

  “Do you like it hot?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I do believe we can handle the heat.” Monkey boy was back at it, and I couldn’t help but smile at his shameless flirting. They were charming, and listening to them distracted me from my current dire straits. After a few minutes of back and forth, they managed to order, and the waitress left. With their conversation no longer diverting my attention, I checked my phone - for what I wasn’t sure. I knew my parents wouldn’t be calling any time soon. We’d set up a weekly time to chat via video message, and I knew there would be no way to reach them until then. The cost of calling and using data in another country was ridiculously expensive, and they had a habit of turning their phones off until it was time to contact someone. Either way, they wouldn’t be landing anytime soon for me to even try. They believed I was safely taken care of, and would never think twice that I was anything but.

  A few minutes later the waitress slid a biscuit in front of me, piping hot with a honey glaze poured over it. I glanced up with a confused frown.

  “I didn’t….”

  “On the house. It doesn’t look like your day is going so well. Figured you could use a little sweetness to brighten it up.” She told me with a smile, her kindness bringing unwanted tears to my eyes. My clothes were clinging to me from the rain, the hem of my skirt was muddy, and the bruises on my arm where my godfather had grabbed me where starting to reveal themselves. All in all, this had been a rotten day.

  I managed a smile as I said, “Thank you.”

  “Enjoy.”

  I broke a piece off with my fork, relishing the sweetness all the more for the waitress’ kindness.

  “Dessert before dinner. A bold choice.”

  A sideways glance revealed Monkey boy staring at me along with his better-looking companion. I couldn’t help but smile, finding their accents ridiculously charming.

  “You should try it. You might be surprised.”

  “You know, you have a point, love. I really should try it.”

  “Ian.” The dark cutie had a warning in his voice as Monkey Boy took his fork and stole a piece of my biscuit. I now knew his name, and was also missing a large portion of my biscuit. I forced a frown to suppress my natural tendency to smile at his audacity. Mom always told me I encouraged inappropriate behavior when I smiled. He popped the entire bite in his mouth, a trickle of honey catching on the stubble by his lip. He licked it clean, and his eyes lowered as he gave me a considering nod.

  “There is something to be said for having dessert first.”

  I nodded, taking another bite as I propped my head on my hand and glanced at the dark haired one. He had a relaxed grin, shaking his head at his brother’s nerve, and looking surprised that I hadn’t stabbed my fork in his hand instead.

  “Would you like dessert first as well?” My question had him straightening, and Ian turned toward him, a petulant pout on his face at my singling out his companion.

  My question was a dare more than anything, and he seemed to realize it, granting me a small smile for my boldness. A tilt of his head had me pushing my plate closer and he reached over to take a piece. It wasn’t like me to encourage perfect strangers to eat off my plate, and I was sure my mother would be shocked by my behavior, but they seemed harmless and provided a much needed distraction from my problems.

  “Yes, a good choice.” He finally said, clearing his throat as the one called Ian looked between us with a smirk. The waitress brought out their po’boys then, and refilled my coke. I went back to my biscuit, finishing off what was left, as I heard an appreciative groan which sounded distinctly British.

  My gumbo came and I dove in, ignoring the waitress’s flirtations with the two next to me. I distracted myself with my phone as the gumbo slowly warmed me from the inside. A few minutes later I heard the scraping of chairs, and then a soft whisper against my ear caused me to shiver.

  “It was a pleasure, love.”

  I turned my head, but they were walking away, neither glancing back. The waitress let out an appreciative hum and I glanced at her. She gave me a small shrug and smiled.

  “I can appreciate those cuties. Who doesn’t love an accent?”

  “Do you know them?” My question was doubtful and she must have heard it, because she gave a slight frown. I tried to salvage the unintended insult. “I just meant they didn’t seem to know what to order and don’t seem like locals.”

  She must have forgiven me because she answered as she stacked their plates.

  “No, I don’t. They must have heard about us from someone. They can come back anytime.” She threw me a wink as she gathered their discarded plates. “They’re excellent tippers and not hard to look at.”

  My nod was slow as I looked out the window to the street. She was right, they were handsome, and friendly. I noticed the rain had slacked off, and decided I shouldn’t linger any longer. I needed to find a place to sleep tonight.

  The thought cross
ed my mind that I should go to the police and report my godfather. Maybe they’d even let me sleep in a jail cell. It was bound to be more comfortable than the street.

  “Can I get my check?” I asked, already dreading having to leave the comfort of her establishment.

  “It’s already taken care of.”

  I looked at her in surprise and she jerked a thumb to the door the men had vacated through, “They took care of it.”

  My mouth opened in surprise, curious why they’d paid for my lunch. I closed it and gathered my purse, exceptionally grateful for their generosity. “Well, that was kind of them.”

  She nodded, looking at me speculatively, no doubt wondering why those two would have bought me lunch. I was curious myself, since I could easily be described as average. I quickly decided it must have been the dark haired one, who felt bad for eating my biscuit, and made up for it by buying my lunch.

  “The blonde one insisted,” she said, interrupting my thoughts and in the process destroyed my speculations. I would not have pegged him as the one to buy me lunch.

  It peaked my curiosity. He’d seemed the more roguish of the two, a devil may care type. I’d gotten the distinct impression he was a bad boy, and not one to bother buying lunch for someone like me. It went to show I shouldn’t judge someone so quickly.

  “Can you tell me where I am? The street, I mean.” She was startled by my abrupt question, but answered me readily enough.

  “Tulane Avenue.”

  I debated my next question, but really, I had no other options.

  “Where’s the nearest police station?”

  She was a bit warier when I asked this, but it was the best idea I had come up with and the sooner I made my way there the better. I was on my own in a city I knew nothing about. The person who was supposed to help me had turned out to be my worst nightmare, and it left me with few options.

  “It’s a few blocks, but you could walk it. The sidewalk is all torn up further down, but you can still get to it. Go about seven blocks that way.” She pointed to the right. “You’ll see the courthouse first and the station is behind it. Someone will be able to help you.” Her gaze skimmed over me, picking up on the marks on my arms and the tear at the bottom of my shirt. “Do you need me to call the police to come here?”