Average Jane

by Kristin Coley

  “We informed the local police, and our presence needed explaining. We wished to keep you out of the business entirely, but we needed Buster.” I nodded, turning my face into Ian’s palm as his fingers gently massaged behind my ear. I bit my lip as a dizzying rush of relief coursed through me at how close of an escape I’d had.

  Ian rested his forehead against mine and whispered, “My little warrior.” The brush of his lips against my eyebrow sent electricity sparking through me. “You fought him, a fact for which I am abjectly grateful, and you’re safe with us now. We won’t allow any harm to come to you.”

  I tightened my fingers around his, meeting his eyes. “And no harm to you.” I turned my head, including Michael. “You either. Heck, let’s include Buster while we’re at it.” He smiled at me faintly, and I noticed even after the long day they’d had he remained ramrod straight and proper. Exhaustion tugged at me, the rollercoaster of emotions from the day sapping my strength worse than the workout Buster had put me through.

  “Love, go to bed. We’re here now. Safe and sound.” He tilted my head up and met my droopy eyes. “You’re falling asleep sitting here. Go.”

  I stood up, closing my eyes as the room swirled around me. Ian tightened his grip on my arm as I swayed.

  “It appears she’s drunk.” Michael observed helpfully.

  Ian turned to him with an exasperated expression. “One can only wonder why.” He studied me and with a sigh swung me into his arms.

  “Whoa.” I murmured as the movement worsened the spinning sensation in my head. I couldn’t summon the energy to protest so I rested my head against his shoulder instead. I caught sight of Michael’s amused grin and pointed at him. “You’re a bad influence.”

  “Now, there is a rare turn of events.” Ian remarked, shifting me closer to him. “I’m the good brother for once.” I nodded against his shoulder, his next words so low I wasn’t sure they weren’t a figment of my imagination. “I think I rather like it.”

  Chapter Six

  The next morning I stumbled from my room to see Michael seated at the table reading the paper. He tilted the paper down to observe me and I stared back at him in surprise. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock.

  “What are you doing here?” I finally asked, dropping down into the seat across from him. It was already nine o’clock and long past when Michael would normally leave. He poured me a glass of orange juice as he replied, “I wished to see you before I left for the day. I won’t be able to join you for dinner this evening, and wanted to assure myself you suffered no ill effects from yesterday.”

  “I didn’t get beat up yesterday. That was Ian.” I looked around inquiringly. “Where is he, by the way?”

  Michael smiled in response, his own gaze inquisitive as he studied me. “Your persistent affection for my brother surprises me.”

  “Why?” It seemed an odd comment for him to make. I’d witnessed his own devotion to Ian more than once and couldn’t comprehend why he’d think I’d feel any differently.

  “He’s a complicated soul. One might, daresay, lost. Demons haunt him.” My puzzled expression had him redirecting. “It is odd, that you haven’t had to bear witness to any of his tangents. The anger, rage truly, that appears at times. The fights and drunkenness, the utter lack of care he has for people, women especially.” I shook my head, not liking the fact that he was saying such things about Ian when he wasn’t here to defend himself. Michael understood my expression and raised his hand in entreaty. “Please, forgive me. You haven’t seen any of the things I’ve mentioned and I hope you never do, but whatever haunts my brother didn’t disappear with your arrival. It’s shifted, buried perhaps, but not gone. I only wish to warn you…should you see it. You are not the cause or reason for the demons that plague him. Do not take to heart his words or actions should he be beset by them at some point.”

  “You’re right. I haven’t witnessed any such behavior. Ian has been a gentleman. Kind, caring, attentive. All signs pointing to a good man.” My spurt of anger ran out as I saw the contrite expression on Michael’s face. “You’re his brother. You know him better than I do. I’ll take your words under consideration.”

  “You say that.” I raised a curious eyebrow. “That I know him better than you do. But I’m no longer certain of that fact. He is different with you, and perhaps my words this morning are presumptuous.” He paused, looking uncomfortable. “I only wished to warn you. I don’t wish to see you leave us and I didn’t want….” His words trailed off as I nodded.

  “I understand your intention, and rest easy, Michael. I will take care with my feelings.” I tapped my finger on the table then. “But I will judge him by his own actions and not your prior experiences.”

  “Fair enough.” He raised the teacup he was drinking from, tapping it against my orange juice glass. “He went to the gym downstairs this morning, ceding to my wish to speak with you privately.”

  “And did he know the topic of our conversation?” I bit out, the thought making me inexplicably angry. The brothers had their own relationship, one that had spanned a tumultuous childhood and I didn’t wish my presence in their life to drag up past issues.

  “More than likely.” Michael admitted with a puckered brow.

  “And do you think he’s okay with it?” I demanded with a frown. “That his brother is warning me of his problems? Problems I’ve yet to witness?” I met his eyes. “Does it ever occur to you that maybe this is part of said problem?”

  “You’re quite right. The past is not necessarily indicative of the future and I’ve seen him with you. The way he acts around you is quite refreshing.” He paused for a moment. “I love my brother dearly. I only seek to protect him.”

  “Then perhaps you should take better care with his feelings.” I replied, my own candor surprising me. “You see him as a troublemaker. A playboy. A man callous and dismissive of women. And I have no doubt he’s acted in such a way as to make you see him as such. Perhaps you even believe it means he has no feeling. But you’re wrong. He feels so deeply that he buries the emotions for fear they will overwhelm him. The attitude you describe is nothing more than a front. Remember that the next time you seek to judge him.”

  He appeared abashed at my reprimand and I glanced down at the table ashamed at my outburst.

  “It’s my turn to ask forgiveness.” His eyes narrowed on me curiously. “I sit here and tell you how to treat your brother, but I haven’t lived with him as you have. I don’t see him the same way you do, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have good reason for your caution. Thank you for the warning. I will consider it.”

  “Perhaps we both need to reflect on the words spoken today. You’ve opened my eyes and I thank you for that.” He gestured to the covered tray. “If I’m not mistaken I do believe I heard your stomach rumble as you sat down. Shall we eat?”

  “Yes,” I answered eagerly, scooping up an omelet. “So, why aren’t you eating dinner with us?” A faint flush appeared on his cheeks, intensifying my curiosity. “Michael, do you have a date?”

  “Dinner with a business associate.” He responded repressively.

  “A female associate?” I persisted, knowing I was right when the rosy color in his cheeks deepened. A laugh spilled out of me. “Try to relax. Actually, you know what. Be yourself. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

  “Well, thank you. I think.” He answered dryly. “But I assure you, it is purely professional. A new employee of the company. My parents sent her here to observe the process I use.”

  “Mmhmm.” He smirked and flicked his fingers at my plate. “Eat. I hear you have a big day ahead of you.” My forehead wrinkled and his smile widened. “Ian said you planned to tour the WWII museum today. A compromise, I believe?” I groaned as I remembered. I had promised him I would go to the WWII museum if he’d go to the convent with me. Michael laughed as I poked at my food, suddenly disinterested. “I take it that was his wish from your lack of enthusiasm.”

  “I thought we’d
go on a cemetery tour today.” I answered, forlorn at the unexpected change in my plans.

  “It is supposed to rain today so perhaps the museum is a better option.” He told me in an attempt to cheer me. “You know, I’ve never explored the city’s cemeteries.” I looked up at him wondering where this was going. “Perhaps we can go together this weekend. Ian mentioned you enjoyed the beignets at Café du Monde. We could stop there as well. You can witness me eat them with my fingers.”

  A wide smile crossed my face at the thought and he replied with a knowing smile of his own. “I had a feeling that would have those dimples flashing again.” He scooted back from the table and stood. “I need to go. I’m unbearably late.”

  “It was worth it.” I called out after him. He paused at the door, turning back toward me sharply. A tilt of his head acknowledged my words and he was gone.

  “Now that wasn’t so bad was it, love?” Ian asked me knowingly as we left the WWII museum. He took my hand and spun me around causing me to giggle. “Admit it. You liked it.”

  “Maybe. It wasn’t so bad.” I answered as he twirled me close and draped his arm around my shoulders. “The restoration exhibit was cool and the home front section. It’s interesting to see what life was like back then.” My arm was trapped between us and I debated if I should tuck it around his waist. Its current position was awkward, but I wasn’t sure if I was bold enough to make the move.

  “You would have fit in perfectly back then. You ever wonder if you were born in the wrong time?” He peered down at me and I smiled at him as I wrapped my arm around his waist.

  “Sometimes, but I know for sure Michael was.”

  He laughed loudly, startling a passersby. “You are correct about that.” He tugged me a tad closer as we strolled back to the car. “So what would you like for dinner since Michael won’t be joining us?”

  “Room service. I feel like yoga pants and being lazy.”

  “Sounds perfect, love.”

  An hour later I was curled up on the sofa wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt arguing over the last slice of pizza with Ian.

  “You ate most of it.” I reminded him holding the last piece. “And possession is nine tenths of the law.” I took a quick bite and he sprawled back on the sofa with a wide grin.

  “You have bested me.” He rested his hands on his flat stomach, his casual pose at direct odds with Michael’s normal posture. “I hope you enjoy it while I lay here starving to death.”

  “There’s always dessert.” I told him with an expectant smile. “You know you are vastly different from your brother. Why is that?”

  He snorted at my question, and shifted over so I could tuck my feet under me. “Because there couldn’t be two perfect children in my parents’ eyes?” I detected a note of bitterness in his voice, and hugged my knees. “I was a mistake. An accident. As I got older I was too loud, too needy, too talkative, too much of everything for them. They wanted to know why I couldn’t be more like Michael.” He gave me a rueful smile. “By all estimations I should truly hate my brother. I’ve spent my entire life in his shadow, never quite measuring up. But he never felt that way. He always treated me with respect. He enjoys my antics even though he will never admit it.” The idea made me smile because I could see the truth in it. Ian was brash, bold, and confident. Not that Michael wasn’t equally confident, but far more reserved in his approach.

  “You and Michael are opposite sides of the same coin. You each show a different face, but you have the same worth. It’s a shame your parents couldn’t see that.” His lips compressed as emotion tightened his face.

  “You have a generous heart, love. You can see beauty where there is none.”

  “There’s beauty in everything, Ian. You just need the right eyes to see it.”

  He stared at me with such intensity I forgot to breathe, and only when he leapt to his feet was I able to take a breath.

  “I do believe ice cream is in order.” He declared, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Ian dressed more casually than Michael, but that only meant he wore expensive slacks with t-shirts instead of three piece suits. The charcoal slacks he wore paired nicely with the black graphic tee, but it was a look only Ian could pull off. “Do you wish to come with me? Or would you rather wait here while I run out and get a few pints?”

  “Pints of ice cream, right? Not beer.”

  “Well, beer would go down nicely.” He replied with a wink.

  “Chocolate ice cream.”

  “And here I would have pegged you as a vanilla girl. You are full of surprises.”

  “And you are a properly improper fellow.” I replied in my best British accent to his delight.

  “That was actually quite good. A little work and we’ll unleash you on Michael.” I shook my head at the thought and grabbed the book I’d been reading. Ian demanded attention worse than a toddler so I hadn’t had much of a chance to read since I’d arrived. As the door shut behind him I realized it’d been almost a week, and tomorrow was the first call with my parents since they’d put me on the plane.

  I stared at the opened page blankly, lost in thought as I realized how different this summer was turning out to be from what I’d imagined. I chuckled to myself because never in my wildest imagination would I have thought to be spending it with Ian and Michael. I’d planned to play the tourist while I was here, but having Ian as a companion was an unexpected pleasure. Both of the brothers were gallant and fun to be around, but Ian drew me in a way I’d never experienced. Sometimes I wondered if it was the wounded air he had about him, the hurt of a lost child I saw in his eyes on occasion or maybe it was the wild zest for life, his eagerness for everything, even the seemingly mundane.

  I knew it was crazy, but I also knew I would stay. I suspected Michael was concerned I’d leave after talking to my parents, but I had no intention of leaving them, at least not until I’d explored my connection with Ian. My parents had spent my entire life sheltering me, imposing their thoughts and beliefs, and it was a relief to be free from it, to have the opportunity to decide for myself what I wanted.

  After I’d read a couple of chapters I realized Ian wasn’t back. A glance at the clock revealed he’d been gone an hour. I didn’t know where he’d planned to go, but I couldn’t shake the thought that he should have been back by now. I checked my phone, but there were no missed texts or calls. I set the phone back down, trying to reassure myself he’d be back in a few moments. I even opened my book again, but after rereading the same paragraph five times I gave up.

  I picked the phone back up, shooting him a quick text and waited. Five minutes went by with no response so I called him. After several rings, it went to voicemail. Maybe he lost his phone, I thought, or left it in the car while he ran into the store. Or he’s been in an accident and is dying, a tiny but loud part of me yelled.

  “He’s fine.” I spoke aloud and the words echoed oddly in the empty room. I tried calling him again and this time it went to voicemail after only a couple of rings. I left a message asking him to call me and that I was worried. By now I was pacing and wishing Michael was there. I debated calling him, but the memory of his flush when I teased him it was a date, stopped me. Michael deserved a bit of peace, and it dawned on me that he’d hired me to babysit Ian and I’d failed. I had no idea where he was right now, and the concern that Michael might have been right ate at me. He’d hired me for a reason, and though it had seemed like a joke at the time, now I wondered how much truth there was to it.

  I decided to try calling Ian one more time, but this time it went straight to voicemail like the phone was turned off. It had been an hour and half since he’d left and he wasn’t able to answer his phone.

  Or he’s ignoring you, I pushed the thought away, unwilling to consider it until I knew he was safe. I slid my shoes on, grabbing my purse as I headed to the door, determined to find him even though I didn’t have the slightest idea where he was. The ding of an incoming message froze me and I let out a shaky breath as I saw it wa
s from Ian.

  “I’m fine.”

  His response was eerily similar to the words I’d spoken aloud trying to convince myself of the same thing. My hand hovered on the doorknob, uncertain if I should go out and find him in spite of the text. Another ding had me swiping at my phone.

  “Read your book. You can handle being alone for a few hours, can’t you?”

  The words stung with their unexpectedness.

  If he was looking to hurt me he had succeeded with his casual taunt. I waited, staring at the phone expecting him to call and explain his text. He’d never been so abrupt and it felt wrong.

  I walked slowly back to the sofa. My purse slipped off my shoulder and I flung it across the room as it became apparent he wasn’t going to respond further.

  The next hour dragged by as I went over every word of the day’s conversations. His disappearing act made no sense. Nor did his text. It was as if he wanted to hurt me. Make me angry. But why?

  I paced, slowing as my anger dwindled. He’d ignored my phone call, intentionally sent me to voicemail because he didn’t want to speak to me.

  But then why text me?

  Because he didn’t want you to go out and find him, a voice whispered in my head and I knew it was true. It was late and the last thing he would want was for me to go out alone searching for him. It wouldn’t be safe. Or he just doesn’t want you to know what he’s up to. I disregarded the thought almost immediately. He may not want me to know what he was doing, but that wasn’t his reason for responding. He wanted me to remain safely in the hotel suite. My instinct told me that and I ignored the voice that whispered, or maybe you’re just desperate to believe it.